The Last Templar Read Online Free PDF

back and smiled, his dark brown eyes creasing in welcome after John’s eulogistic description of his younger friend, Simon could see the hurt there as well. It was a shock to see it, as if it was a blemish that should have been polished away long ago. But it was there, a melancholy that seemed as though it would never be able to leave, a depression that appeared to have taken such deep root that to exorcise it would remove the knight’s very soul, and Simon could feel the sympathy stirring in his breast at the sight.
    “Please, come and sit. You were travelling very late, sir. Please sit and rest,” he said, shoving Hugh to make more space on the bench.
    The knight bowed slightly and his mouth twitched in a half smile as Hugh sulkily moved farther up the bench away from the flames.
    “Thank you. But there is space for me here,” he said, indicating John’s trestle and slowly easing himself down onto it, sighing as his muscles relaxed. He gratefully accepted a cup of wine from John and took a long, contented draught. “Ah, that’s good.” His servant stood behind him, as if waiting to be given an order - or was it that he was standing ready to defend his master? “Edgar, you can sit as well.”
    Simon glanced up at the servant as he moved round to sit, and was vaguely disturbed by the expression of wary distrust he could see in the dark features, as if he was being weighed up, measured and assessed in comparison with other potential dangers. Then, to Simon’s vague annoyance, this arrogant servant seemed to decide that the bailiff was no risk, as if he was not of enough significance to merit being classified as a threat. Edgar glanced down and seated himself, staring around the room, his eyes occasionally lighting briefly on the other people present. He seemed a distrustful man, Simon felt - even when seated he seemed to be glowering, as if doubting his, and his master’s, safety.
    The bailiff shrugged and looked over at the knight, who was happily accepting more wine from John. “Why are you travelling so late at night, sir?” he asked, watching as the knight stretched his legs slowly and started to rub at them, pulling his mail aside - Baldwin raised his eyebrows as he stared back, a hint of sardonic humour showing in his dark eyes. He seemed to be close to laughing at himself ironically.
    “It’s been a long time since I travelled these roads. I am the new master of Furnshill Manor, as John said, and I’m on my way there, but I was held up today, in my pride and foolishness. I had a wish to see some of the old views, but it has been many years since I came along these roads and I forgot my way too often and… well, I got lost. It took me a lot longer than I expected to find the right roads.” His head rose and he gazed straight into Simon’s eyes as he gave a sudden smile. “Have I broken the law in being out so late, bailiff?”
    Laughing, Simon happily took another cup of wine from John. “No. No, I’m just naturally inquisitive. So are you on your way to Furnshill now?”
    “Yes. I understand my brother died some time ago, so the manor becomes mine. I came as soon as I heard he was dead. I was going to continue tonight, but if I can get lost so easily during daylight, what hope is there that I can find my way in the dark? No, if John could allow me… ?” He finished with an interrogatively raised eyebrow as he peered over at the older man beside him.
    “Of course, of course, Sir Baldwin. You must rest here the night.”
    Simon studied the knight carefully. Now he could see the man’s features more clearly as the firelight and candles caught his face, and he could see the family resemblance. Sir Reynald had been known to be a kindly master, and Simon found himself hoping that his brother Baldwin would be too. A cruel man in an important manor could be disruptive to an area. “Your brother was a good man, always ready to help another in need and was known to be good to his people,” he said