avatarRené Beauchemin - [he/him]

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HISTORICAL FICTION — SPECULATIVE FICTION

Guillaume’s Son And The Templars

Chapter Seven — Lugh has a new name, Laurent

A gathering of Celts in the forest — image by author using Fotor AI

In the winter of 1129, Guillaume’s son, Guillaume de Fontaine, who was Lord of many villages along the Somme River, met with a small group of knights with the Templar cross emblazoned on their tunics, a symbol that had served to protect the Celtic peoples from the very Church that they served.

Guillaume was sixty years old and had inherited his father’s land and titles thirty-three years earlier. Guillaume was aware of his father’s involvement with the Templars and had been entrusted with safeguarding the unspoken secrets connecting the Templars with the Belgae, the Celtic tribes of Picardy, Flanders, and Belgica.

“Lord Guillaume, at present, only your estates now separate what is left of the old religion and the long arm of the Christian Church,” spoke André de Montbard. “Sir Hugues de Payens has instructed me to assist you in your task, I pray you will ask what is needed so 1it can be given.”

Lord André had been one of the nine men who had formed the central council of the Templars, men of the old faith who had crafted a disguise allowing them to hide from the very Church that would eradicate the last vestige of the ancient religion of the Celtic tribes who had ruled the land long before the birth of the Christian religion.

“The villages at the foot of every trail that leads to the treasure, have been disguised as Christian villages, within which even the small chapels and churches appear to be Christian. No one is allowed to remain, even one night in these villages who is authentically a Christian,” Guillaume explained to Lord André.

“The only exception being the inn for each village,” Guillaume informed his illustrious guest. “I have used my own resources to sustain these communities. It is there where I will need help, financial help. Without these villages protecting the paths, the sacred altar would be captured and destroyed.”

With a final word, Sir André counselled, “And so it shall be, not only for the villages, my brother in arms. Each one of us must continue living the art of hiding in plain sight.”

Sir André confirmed that the Templars would finance the protective forces and create diversionary strategies to have the villages remain off the maps and anonymous. For the world outside of the villages, the maps would simply show wild forests and swamplands.

With their meeting concluded, the Templars rode to the south, heading back to Spain and then on to resume their outer world role as Poor Soldiers of Christ.

Guillaume had sired a large family and had little need to appear at various gatherings of regional lords or fêtes. He had cultivated an identity of a reclusive family man, something easy to do when his family filled his heart.

He did, however, ride out with his two eldest sons, Louis and Georges, to visit the villages on his estates and hold meetings to discover those things that spoke of unnecessary hardship. Most problems had to do with boundary disputes, or family violence.

Guillaume took a firm hand in settling both types of issues. Stone markers were laid solving the land use problem, a solution well within his rights as the owner of all the lands on his estate. As for family violence, if the issue was between husband and wife, the man was awarded a public lashing.

If the violence was between brothers, they would be sent as common soldiers to serve the King. A calm village meant little to no unwarranted attention would fall on village. Of course, the priests were kept happy in their own way.

Guillaume and his sons also travelled to the outlying villages hiding the routes to the sacred altar. It was a responsibility held in highest regard which Guillaume knew he would have to pass on to his second son, Georges while Louis was to continue the stewardship of the family estate.

Both Louis and Georges had already joined in the brotherhood of the Templars. Georges was in charge of the Templar coffers, amassed and stored beneath the sacred altar.

“Guillaume, Louis, Georges,” called out a voice from the shade at the edge of the clearing within which a circle of stones marked the boundary of a sacred circle. A small number of dwellings made of the trunks of small trees, and branches, and thatch, stood outside the perimeter of stones with each house hiding a faint path leading away from the village. A man emerged from the shade. He was cloaked in a mottled robe that had blended with the leaves and branches. “I’ve been expecting you.”

A few of the villagers had gathered near the visitors to the glen, all eyes on Laurent rather than on Guillaume and his sons. They were familiar with the three of them who had made twice yearly journeys to the village.

“Laurent, I didn’t see you,” laughed Georges. “You appeared as if by magic. How did you do it?”

This was the second time the boys had met Laurent. The first time had been with their father in a small woodland near their estate by the river.

“Well, it certainly isn’t because I am dressed fashionably,” Laurent added with his typical dry humour. “You can do the same, Georges. It’s all in how you move through the forest. You need to be at one with the forest instead of someone who belongs someplace else.”

Guillaume bowed to Laurent, an act which caught both young men by surprise. After all, it was their father who was the noble, not Laurent.

“It is time, Laurent, to reveal the truth about our relationship.” Turning to face his sons whose attention he had gained with the comment, he continued. “Louis, Georges, Laurent isn’t just the forester he appears to be.”

The villagers formed a circle around the four men once they had approached the sacred stone. Standing beside the stone was a woman the young men had never seen before in the village. For a moment they began to worry that the secret of the village had been breached.

Then they saw their father make a deep bow to the woman. Louis and Georges, saw the woman begin to glow with a golden light with Laurent standing beside her also beginning to be surrounded by an aura of gold. As they stared in amazement, the light became so intense that they fell to their knees with heads bowed.

“Rise sons of Guillaume,” called out the woman’s pure voice.

“Rise sons of Guillaume,” echoed Laurent’s voice which had somehow become fuller and richer.

The boys dared to look up and felt the welcome of the eyes looking at them. They turned to see their father who stood proud beside them.

“It is time, Guillaume,” repeated Laurent.

“Sons,” Guillaume began, “I have told you of the old faith, and the ancient gods and goddesses of our ancestors. You are descendants of these gods and goddesses. Before you stand Brighid, goddess of the sun, and Lugh, god of the sun. We are in service to them, they are the inspiration that birthed the Templars.”

Previously

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