when their use is fulfilled, I’ll set them free.”
“And their use is to hunt?”
“Actually, to intercept.” He carefully latched the cage. “Saladin and a few Frank commanders use carrier pigeons to carry orders to their troops. Ware decided we should use falcons to make sure the pigeons never reach their destination.”
Though Kadar had spoken casually, almost indifferently, Thea shivered. She had a sudden, vivid picture of fierce Eleanor savagely plucking a pigeon out of the sky.
“Life is always a battle. You can’t stop it; you can only choose the battleground,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “If a pigeon reaches its target, men die. If a falcon stops the pigeon, different men die.”
There was no savagery in his voice. Yet she was suddenly seeing a harder, darker side of Kadar. “And you choose Lord Ware’s battleground.”
“For the time being.” He chuckled. “It’s my bane for saving his life. Now I find I cannot bear to see him destroyed.”
“How did you save his life?”
“I found him wounded and near death. He had fled to the Old Man of the Mountain for safety but didn’t reach him in time.”
“Old Man of the Mountain?”
“Sheikh Rashid ed-Din Sinan. He is the King of Assassins. It was a clever move on Ware’s part. No one ventures into Sinan’s domain without invitation.”
“Then what were you doing there?”
“Knowledge.” He smiled. “One must know the dark paths as well as the bright. But sometimes there’s such a thing as learning too much, of delving too deeply. I was becoming lost and was ready to return to Damascus when I found Ware on the path. I nursed him back to health and took him to Sinan’s fortress.”
“From whom was he running?”
He hesitated and then shrugged. “I reveal nothing that everyone in this land doesn’t know when I tell you that he was running from the Knights Templar. What do you know of them?”
“What everyone knows—that the Knights Templar is an order of warrior monks. They’re the finest soldiers in Christendom and the wealthiest. They sell their services both to merchants and to royalty for vast sums. Nicholas paid them once to guard a caravan he was sending to Cairo.” Her brow wrinkled in thought as she tried to remember anything else she had heard. “A goodly portion of their fees go to the Pope, but some of their gold is said to be kept in their own storehouses.”
“Ah, yes, and you can see why the Pope has such affection for the order.” He stroked the falcon’s feathers with a gentle forefinger. “And gave them such power that they are feared more than Saladin.”
“Why were they pursuing Lord Ware?”
“Unfortunately, they have no fondness for prodigal sons. They wished to wipe him from the face of the earth.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Ware was a Knights Templar, perhaps the greatest warrior in the order. When he was cast out, the Grand Master issued an order that he be killed.”
She stared at him, stunned. “He was a
monk
?”
Kadar burst out laughing. “I found it surprising, too, until I came to know him. He has many more sides to his character than you would think.”
A vision of Ware sitting in that firelit room while Tasza caressed him with her mouth came back to her. “A monk?” she repeated.
“I’m told sometimes a battle can be as stirring as a woman, and the Knights Templar are a special breed.”
“Why did they cast him out?”
His smile faded. “You will have to ask him.”
“I don’t have to ask.” Sensuality breathed in every line of Ware of Dundragon’s body. He would not have been able to bear abstinence. “He is no monk.”
“Not now.” Kadar tilted his head. “I’ve told you what danger Ware was fleeing. What are you running from, Thea of Dimas?”
She stiffened at the sudden attack. She had been so absorbed in unraveling the complex personality of Kadar and trying to comprehend the astonishing truth he had told her
“And their use is to hunt?”
“Actually, to intercept.” He carefully latched the cage. “Saladin and a few Frank commanders use carrier pigeons to carry orders to their troops. Ware decided we should use falcons to make sure the pigeons never reach their destination.”
Though Kadar had spoken casually, almost indifferently, Thea shivered. She had a sudden, vivid picture of fierce Eleanor savagely plucking a pigeon out of the sky.
“Life is always a battle. You can’t stop it; you can only choose the battleground,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “If a pigeon reaches its target, men die. If a falcon stops the pigeon, different men die.”
There was no savagery in his voice. Yet she was suddenly seeing a harder, darker side of Kadar. “And you choose Lord Ware’s battleground.”
“For the time being.” He chuckled. “It’s my bane for saving his life. Now I find I cannot bear to see him destroyed.”
“How did you save his life?”
“I found him wounded and near death. He had fled to the Old Man of the Mountain for safety but didn’t reach him in time.”
“Old Man of the Mountain?”
“Sheikh Rashid ed-Din Sinan. He is the King of Assassins. It was a clever move on Ware’s part. No one ventures into Sinan’s domain without invitation.”
“Then what were you doing there?”
“Knowledge.” He smiled. “One must know the dark paths as well as the bright. But sometimes there’s such a thing as learning too much, of delving too deeply. I was becoming lost and was ready to return to Damascus when I found Ware on the path. I nursed him back to health and took him to Sinan’s fortress.”
“From whom was he running?”
He hesitated and then shrugged. “I reveal nothing that everyone in this land doesn’t know when I tell you that he was running from the Knights Templar. What do you know of them?”
“What everyone knows—that the Knights Templar is an order of warrior monks. They’re the finest soldiers in Christendom and the wealthiest. They sell their services both to merchants and to royalty for vast sums. Nicholas paid them once to guard a caravan he was sending to Cairo.” Her brow wrinkled in thought as she tried to remember anything else she had heard. “A goodly portion of their fees go to the Pope, but some of their gold is said to be kept in their own storehouses.”
“Ah, yes, and you can see why the Pope has such affection for the order.” He stroked the falcon’s feathers with a gentle forefinger. “And gave them such power that they are feared more than Saladin.”
“Why were they pursuing Lord Ware?”
“Unfortunately, they have no fondness for prodigal sons. They wished to wipe him from the face of the earth.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Ware was a Knights Templar, perhaps the greatest warrior in the order. When he was cast out, the Grand Master issued an order that he be killed.”
She stared at him, stunned. “He was a
monk
?”
Kadar burst out laughing. “I found it surprising, too, until I came to know him. He has many more sides to his character than you would think.”
A vision of Ware sitting in that firelit room while Tasza caressed him with her mouth came back to her. “A monk?” she repeated.
“I’m told sometimes a battle can be as stirring as a woman, and the Knights Templar are a special breed.”
“Why did they cast him out?”
His smile faded. “You will have to ask him.”
“I don’t have to ask.” Sensuality breathed in every line of Ware of Dundragon’s body. He would not have been able to bear abstinence. “He is no monk.”
“Not now.” Kadar tilted his head. “I’ve told you what danger Ware was fleeing. What are you running from, Thea of Dimas?”
She stiffened at the sudden attack. She had been so absorbed in unraveling the complex personality of Kadar and trying to comprehend the astonishing truth he had told her
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