The Orphan King by Sigmund Brouwer

circle. “Were your travels difficult?”
    “No, m’lord. Exile still provides the secrecy and refuge we cannot have here. And in the southern half of England, none questioned me.” William shrugged. “I knew, of course, as I traveled north that word of my arrival would reach the enemy. But also that it would reach you and that you would thus seek me, as you have. But this far from Magnus, I thought myself yet safe from the enemy.”
    Hawkwood spat. “Nowhere in England is now safe. The Templars have been destroyed, and all these years they have served as protection.”
    “With the gallows rope around my neck, the same thought occurred to me. I wondered if perhaps the plan we laid those years ago had failed, and that you might be dead by now.”
    Hawkwood spat again. “There have been moments, William. Their power grows. It was the play of a child for them to arrange the chalice in your horse’s saddlebag and to let it be known that you were a Templar and a heretic.”
    “And child’s play for you to arrange the time of the hanging?”
    Now Hawkwood laughed. “The years haven’t dulled you.”
    The knight sighed, recalling his fight with Thomas. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I find it difficult to believe that the eclipse occurred when it did because of happenstance or because of a divine miracle that presumes any importance for my scarred hide.”
    “Tut, tut, William. We are not without our allies among the powerful. As you surmised, I did indeed arrange the time of the hanging based on our ancient charts. But is it not God who arranges the stars? A century will pass before the sky darkens again. We could not have asked Him for more in the spring of this year.”
    William waved away the protest. “You would have found another method had there been no eclipse. That was you as the old man, correct? And Thomas as the specter?”
    “It was Thomas. Had he not appeared, I would have stepped forward anyway to use the eclipse as a way to save your life.” Hawkwood laughed. “Imagine how Thomas felt when the sun disappeared. I feel pity for how bewildered he must be at the way the event turned for him.” Hawkwood resumed his pacing. He stepped in and out of the shadows so that the dappled outlines of leaves appeared and reappeared across his lean face. “Sarah trained him well, did she not?”
    The knight nodded. “It took all my willpower to pretend surprise when he found me this afternoon. He has grown much since I last saw him. But I was unable to discover where Sarah raised him. Isn’t that irony? She thought we were dead. She was so skillful at hiding herself from the enemy that not even we could find her.”
    “You know my grief has been a difficult burden,” Hawkwood said. His voice became heavy, much heavier than his years. “Yes, against all odds, the boy has grown to manhood. We need what she has hidden, and surely Thomas knows where it is.”
    “The enemy wants it as desperately as we do.” William studied Hawkwood’s face. “We finally, however, have renewed hope. I have returned safely, you are here, the boy appeared as Sarah was instructed to teach him, and Magnus awaits its angel.”
    Hawkwood closed his eyes and winced. “But if Sarah were alive, we would not need to play this game. The books would be ours, and we would know whether to trust Thomas instead of wondering if they have planted him as elaborate bait for us.”
    “And if Sarah were alive, Thomas could take us both to her, and you would be reunited after all these years.” The knight placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. They remained in that silence for several moments before Hawkwood continued.
    “I repeat, William, without Sarah we cannot know if the enemy reached Thomas after her death and converted him to their cause.”
    William raised an index finger to emphasize his next words. “Is it not significant that he sought me out at the gallows? Only she would have instructed him to expect me.”
    “I have