La Patera E-Book

Christian Berger

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 272

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Arnaud Calvez was born in Dinan in Brittany, the son of a spice merchant. But he longed for more than a quiet life in his father's footsteps: he wanted to see the Holy Land. So, at the age of sixteen, he joins the Christian order of the Knights Templar and follows their call to defend Jerusalem in 1185. In this exciting journey through the High Middle Ages, he not only finds a new faith, but also love and a bowl that would change the fate of mankind forever.

Leseprobe

Dedication

Foreword

"Dans les champs de l'observation, le hasard ne favorise que les esprits préparés."

Prologue

Arnaud took a good look at the wounded man's wound and saw that it had become infected. The man was badly injured and had been brought yesterday by some of his fellow believers to Montsegur Castle. He was barely conscious. Judging by his clothing, he was a "Perfectus" and apart from his injury, he was in good health. Arnaud had removed the blood-soaked bandage from his left thigh and seen the full extent of the injury. The sword blow had left a deep gash in the man's thigh, extending from the inside of the leg to the knee joint. Fresh blood seeped inexorably from the depth of the wound. After cleaning the wound and scabbing it with a branding iron, he had applied a fresh bandage and given the patient a decoction of willow bark. A deep red blister had now formed on the outside of the knee joint. The man was running a high fever. Arnaud took his knife, heated the blade over the fire and opened the joint with a targeted stab to the side of the kneecap. The injured man let out a deep groan and light brown pus oozed out of the stab wound. Now Arnaud took the fluff from the patera and carefully spread it over the wound. "Will he survive?" asked Bernadette, who had just entered the house. "That's in the hands of God. If the fever subsides in three days, then maybe." Arnaud gave the half-conscious man a drink and three small balls of beeswax, which he reluctantly swallowed. "Claire has finished eating," said Bernadette, "are you coming, Father?" Arnaud nodded and looked at his daughter. She had become a beautiful woman over the years. She had her mother's black hair and dark, kind eyes, but her face was rounder and sometimes he thought he recognizedhimself in her gaze in his youth. Arnaud picked up his cane and went out into the street towards the upper part of the castle.

The sun blinded him, as his eyesight was already dimmed. His joints sometimes let him down and his progress was slow. Claire was waiting for him at the front door. "And how is the injured man?" "I've done everything I can, all we can do is pray." The patera had served him well over the years, but in the end they were all in the hands of God. During the meal, Bernadette said: "Do you know that the bishop has arrived today?" "Guilhabert is here?" asked Arnaud with a look of astonishment. "Yes, he's come all the way from Pieusse." "I really must speak to him." He had barely spoken these words when the front door opened with a loud creak and Guilhabert de Castres(1)entered the room. "Arnaud, my old friend, how are you?" The bishop had grown older over the years, but his blue eyes had lost none of their radiance and the two embraced warmly. "Thank you, I'm happy, you know my wife Claire?" "Yes, of course, it's been a while. Good afternoon, Claire, and my God, is it you, Bernadette?" Bernadette gave the bishop a friendly look. Guilhabert had known her since childhood and was surprised to see a beautiful and obviously self-confident woman in front of him. "I see you have received the higher orders." "Yes, Brother Guilhabert," said Bernadette, dressed in the garb of a "perfecta". "That makes me very proud," replied the bishop, "let me embrace you." Guilhabert took off his white coat and sat down on the chair with an expression of relief. "I have sad news, my friends. Raymond of Toulouse has surrendered and the king will bring Occitania under his rule. The Holy Inquisition and the Dominican Order are hot on our heels." Claire and Bernadette covered their mouths in an expression of disbelief. For twenty years, Raymond of Toulouse had resisted the Pope's call for the extermination of the Albigensians and the crusade that followed. Even after his exile in England, he had returned to support the Cathars.

"What should we do now?" asked Arnaud. "I have agreed with Raymond de Pereille(2), your lord of the castle, to fortify Montsegur Castle more strongly. We have little support among the nobility, but there is still a safe haven in Queribus and Usson." Bernadette and Claire were shaken. "Enough politics," said the bishop. "Let's eat together!" Arnaud was inwardly agitated. Toulouse lost, the pope and the king would wipe the remnants of the Albigensian movement off the face of the earth. He urgently needed to talk to Guilhabert in private. After dinner, Arnaud motioned to his friend to come to his chamber. "I really need to talk to you, my friend," he said in a worried voice. Guilhabert apologized to Claire and Bernadette and followed Arnaud. "I need your help. This letter absolutely must find its addressee and I want you to put your episcopal seal on it." "Is it about the Patera?" asked Guilhabert. Arnaud nodded. "I'll help you, of course." Arnaud heated some sealing wax and dripped it onto an envelope that lay sealed on the table. Bishop Guilhabert de Castres pressed his signet ring into the still soft wax.

Chapter 1

Chateau Gisors in 1183

Arnaud Calvez joined the Knights Templar at the age of eighteen. A week ago, he had sealed his fate by signing a declaration of intent. Against his father's wishes, he would take up work in the nearest castle of the lords of the order. Now, on the way to them, the sight of Gisors Castle took his breath away. The castle was situated on a hill and was surrounded by a round, meter-high wall. In the middle, a mighty donjon towered on the motte*. From the fortified tower, the surrounding countryside could be seen for miles around. Gisors Castle was located on the old Roman road that led from Paris to Normandy. "Come on, boy," said the old merchant from Dinan, who had taken him from his home town. Sitting on his oxcart, a bottle of wine in his hands and always a song on his lips, he was content with his life. Not so Arnaud. He wanted to get to know the world. To get out of his family's petty bourgeois life. He was determined not to follow in his father's footsteps as a spice merchant and had therefore opted for a life with the Templars. They had castles all over Europe and protected the pilgrimage routes to the Holy Land. His dream was to see the Holy Land.

* La Motte, Old French for lump of earth, is the mound of earth on which castles were built in the Middle Ages for better defense. Tapestry No. 19 of Bayeux describes the siege of Dinan by William the Conqueror(3).

On the outer wall of the castle hung the white shields with the red cross, the insignia of the Templars. After they had climbed the castle hill, they stood in front of the huge entrance gate, which was secured by two heavy oak doors rounded at the top. "Who wants to come in?" asked the guard. "Oh, it's you François," said the Templar after the merchant had revealed himself. "Who have you got in tow?" "A young lad from Dinan, he wants to join your service." "Let me see your papers!" the guard demanded. "Arnaud Calvez from Dinan," he mumbled. "All right, you can pass. Did you bring the good wine, François?" "Of course, two barrels." "And you, young man, report to the Drapier, you'll find him in the big house below the donjon right next to the iron door." Once Arnaud had passed the high walls of the castle, he was amazed by the hustle and bustle that went on behind them. The donjon and the inner circle of the castle were protected by another wall, which had only one entrance via a stone staircase and a large wrought-iron gate. Immediately in front of it, knights and squires were busy practising their swordplay. Instead of sharp blades, they were practising cover and fighting techniques with wooden swords, and it was not unusual for one of the practitioners to fall to the ground with a loud groan. Arnaud went to one of the fighters. "Where can I find the Drapier?" "Right in the house over there, which is by the wall to the donjon," the boy said in a broken voice. He was only slowly recovering from the blow he had just received on his back. Arnaud thanked him politely and crossed the training ground towards the large house. A corpulent man stood at the front door, watching the sword fights with a scrutinizing gaze. Arnaud approached him and showed him his papers. "From Dinan? Well, well. I am Richard de Delincourt, the draper of this commandery. If you have not learned discipline and godliness in your life so far, we will teach you," he saidwith a stern look. "Can you read and write?" "Yes, I spent three years with the Benedictines in Mont Saint Michel." "Then you should know Brother Phillipp, he's a good friend of mine and we've been in contact by letter for years." "He was my teacher," Arnaud replied with a broad grin. Arnaud remembered his time at the monastery rock. When his studies were finished, he had to sweep the portico next to the holy chapel every day. He loved the forecourt of the church, because from there you could see the sea in all directions. In the distance, he could see the ships sailing into St. Malo in the west. Their sails showed that they were heading for the harbor from distant lands. To the north was the open sea, but to the south, at low tide, you could see the sea retreating from the rocks and revealing the sandy bottom. It was an impressive spectacle of nature that took place twice a day. Only small streams of water meandered their way towards the mainland. Arnaud loved the smell of the sea, the mixture of decaying seaweed and the scent of shells. "Look around you," Brother Phillipp would say, "the world is yours, my boy." Arnaud was abruptly torn from his memories by the Drapier's brash words. "Well, we'll check that tomorrow. Your previous life ends here and now, you will never be the same again. Undress and take one of the brown coats. Follow me," he ordered, "I will commit you." Richard de Delincourt was of stocky build and had white, flowing hair and a chin beard that ended in a point at the front. He wore the white cloak of the Templars with a red cross and his features had a kindly air, except when he spoke with inherent authority. "Over there are the stables and right next to them is your sleeping quarters." Delincourt pointed to the buildings to the east of the castle. Arnaud followed him and looked at his new home. The squires' corridor was sparsely furnished, just a table in the middle with rickety chairs and a row of beds with straw mattresses. "You can have this bed. It belonged to Berengar, one of my servants. He died last month. If Brother Phillipp has done a good job with your upbringing, you will take his place. Holy Mass is said five times a day and attendance is compulsory. If you are unable to attend due to illness, you must pray thirteen Pater Noster. Do you understand?" Richard said with a serious face. "Very well, master." "If you need to relieve yourself, you'll find an abortuary on the outside of the walls. Come, Arnaud, I will show you our most sacred place." The castle chapel was as beautiful on the outside as it was on the inside. The multi-paned tracery windows lent the interior a bright atmosphere, coupled with almost endless reflections from the colorful windows. The builders wanted the colored windows, which consisted of thousands of panes of glass set in lead, to create a mystical space of color in which earthly existence merges. Arnaud was deeply impressed and completely overwhelmed by the aura that filled this room. "May I stay a little longer, Master?" he asked. "Of course, I'll see you at vespers." After the modest evening meal, during which all those present remained silent, Arnaud went to his lodgings. The squires and sergeants present paid him no attention and he crawled into his straw mat. Night had already fallen over the castle and Arnaud still lay awake, his head full of questions: "Was it the right decision to join the Templars? What will my life be like from now on?" "Are you still awake?" asked a voice from the bed next to him. "Yes," said Arnaud. "What's your name?"

"I'm Arnaud Calvez from Dinan. Who are you?" "My name is Simon Faiblos. Don't worry, it's always like that on the first day. I've been here almost all my life, you'll like it. Sleep well Arnaud."

The next morning, Arnaud was abruptly woken from his dreams by a violent shaking. "Arnaud, get up, we have to go to mass!" "What, already? It's still dark outside." "Come on!" Simon replied impatiently and the two of them made their way to the chapel. Arnaud noticed that Simon was limping on his left leg and that his foot was a funny shape. "What's wrong with your leg?" "I've had it since I was born, my foot is lumpy, the monks call it 'pied bot'. It doesn't hurt, but I'm not fit for service with a weapon."

Everyone had already gathered in the chapel for morning prayers and Richard de Delincourt gave the two young squires a serious look. The mass began with the psalm "Venite" and ended, as did the matins, with the "Gloria patri" to the glory of the Trinity. Only when the Grand Master and the celebrating chaplains had stood up were the sergeants and squires also allowed to stand up and leave the chapel. After mass, a modest breakfast of bread and soup was served. Arnaud had just finished his meal when his name was called. "Arnaud Calvez, you are to report to the Drapier immediately!" a sergeant shouted. "Yes, brother," he replied and went to Richard's house unawares. "Now, my son, let's see what Brother Phillipp has taught you." There was a bundle of papers on the table. "These are the bills for food and the orders for clothing for this week. I want you to make a list and work out what you need. Are you familiar with the abacus?" "Yes, my lord," replied Arnaud. The abacus was an indispensable tool in a merchant's house and Arnaud had learned to use it as a child. The board with the rings made it possible to add and subtract numbers in a short space of time. "I'll be back at lunchtime and expect a complete list!" With these words, Delincourt closed the heavy door and Arnaud set about deciphering the individual papers. He struggled at first, as he was unfamiliar withthe writing, but once he had overcome this obstacle, the work progressed quickly. When the Grand Drapier returned at lunchtime, as announced, a careful list of the required documents and the corresponding calculation of the costs were on the table. Richard sat down and went through what he had written point by point, pursing his lips again and again with a scrutinizing expression on his face. "Bien joué, mon fils," he said at the end. "You will be one of my secretaries. Tonight you will take the oath to the temple!"

The chapel was filled to capacity. Arnaud knelt in his assigned place in front of the altar. After those present had sung the opening chorale, the Master, Almarich de Villefort, stood up and approached him, looking deep into his eyes. He spoke in a solemn voice: "Do you wish to become a squire of our honorable order?" Arnaud replied, "Yes, I do." "So now raise your sword rights to the oath and repeat after me: 'I have appeared here to pledge allegiance to our honorable order and the noble Grand Master. I will always strive to conscientiously fulfill my duties and strive for the office of a knight! This I vow.'" When Arnaud had spoken these words, de Villefort raised his head and continued: "We have heard your word and so we accept you as a squire in our order. Just know that taking a true vow only befits a true man!" After a short pause, during which his words reverberated in the chapel, he said: "But be aware, if you should break the vow lightly, your name will be extinguished in the annals of our order, just as we extinguish this candle!" With a swift movement of his right hand, the Grand Master extinguished the candle on the altar and motioned to Arnaud to bow his head. "Take this as a sign of your allegiance." It was a wooden Templar cross with his initials, the name of his tribal commandery and the year he had joined in elaborate lettering on the back. De Villefort then instructedArnaud to rise and return to his seat. The assembled Templars intoned the "Gloria patri". Only now did Arnaud realize what had just happened. He had spoken the words as if in a trance and now he was actually a member of the Knights Templar.

The next morning, the restraint of the other squires and sergeants at the breakfast table had also disappeared. Arnaud was welcomed into their circle with a firm tap on the shoulder from those present. Simon Faiblos joined him. "Now that you are one of us, you shall also be initiated into our rules. What is our motto?" On the first day, Arnaud had already memorized the words that would mean his life from now on. With a proud voice, he replied: "Non nobis Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam", not us, O Lord, not us, but give glory to your name. Simon nodded with satisfaction. "What do you know about our comrades?" he asked. "Each commandery is led by a master." "Yes, Almarich de Villefort is our master, but he is assisted by the commander, the marshal and the draper. You already know Richard de Delincourt. Our commander and chief tressler is Jacques de Montalban and I would advise you to keep as far away from him as possible. Unlike Richard, he is suspicious to the core and is prone to fits of rage at the slightest inconsistency in his finances," said Simon with a broad grin. "Marshal Guy de Toroge is in charge of weapons and defense. His brother Arnaud(4)has held the office of Grand Master of the Temple* in Paris for four years and is therefore the supreme master of our order. He has excellent contacts with the royal court. Have you memorized all the names?" "Of course, but can we finally eat something? I'm dying of hunger."

* The Knights Templar were founded in 1118 to protect the pilgrimage routes to Jerusalem via Jaffa and Ramla. The founding members were Hugh of Payns(5), Gottfried Saint-Omer(6)and Andreasof Montbard(7). The latter was an uncle of Bernard de Clairvaux(8), one of the most important Cistercians and scholastics of the High Middle Ages. Bernard de Clairvaux published fervent appeals for the Crusades and repeatedly called on people to join the Knights Templar.

Weapons drills were held every day after breakfast. Simon was exempt due to his mutilation and Arnaud didn't really enjoy them either. He was of medium height and had a sinewy body. His long, brown hair had fallen victim to the rule of the order and he felt somehow naked on his head, especially when the wind blew around his ears. He had his mother's green eyes and an even face with a thin nose. He could defend himself well with his shield in swordplay and quickly dodge attacks from his opponent, but he felt no desire to inflict pain on another person. "What about you, Brother Calvez?" asked Marshal de Toroge, who was supervising the combat exercises. "You must make your opponent feel your superiority and attack him!" Arnaud had no real answer to the request. "Well, you obviously weren't born to fight, but I hear Richard de Delincourt has a use for you," de Toroge ordered Arnaud.

Arnaud quickly got used to the daily routine in the castle. It was only the fasting that he found difficult to come to terms with. The Templars fasted from All Saints' Day to Easter, which meant that they only ate vegetables, pulses, soup and bread during this time. There were two meals a day and Arnaud was always hungry. After Easter, fish and poultry were served on Fridays and there was always a meat dish on Sundays. Only in February were the Templars allowed to break their fast and eat meat for seventeen days. This period was known as "carne val" after the Latin expression for "farewell, meat". When Arnaud was not busy working for the Drapier, he mostlymet up with Simon. They became best friends over time. One day, they walked past the stables where the squires were busy harnessing the horses. "Why are there so many horses here?" asked Arnaud. "The castle was home to twenty knights and ten chaplains, but they were exempt from worldly activities. Well, each knight needs three horses. A warhorse, usually a stallion, a riding horse, which is a mare or gelding, and a packhorse. Even before joining, the future Templar must have received a knighthood and therefore be of high birth." "Make way!" shouted one of the knights and rode past them at a gallop. The stables were bustling with activity. The departure of Grand Master de Villefort was imminent. Together with ten knights, he would set off for the temple in Paris tomorrow to attend the general chapter of the order. This was held once a year in Paris and all the provincial masters took part. In his role as Provincial Master, De Villefort was also authorized to elect a new Grand Master. "Rumor has it that our current Grand Master Arnaud de Toroge is suffering from a serious illness," said Simon. "I wouldn't be surprised if his succession is arranged in the next few days. Come on, let's go to the library, I have something to show you." Arnaud followed his friend up the stone staircase through the heavy iron gate to the top building of the castle, which was directly adjacent to the donjon. The defense tower was reserved for the chaplains and knights, but the adjoining house was open to all members. As they entered the library, they were greeted by the scent of parchment and leather. Simon was not the castle's only scribe and archivist. "Each of the five scribes and copyists has their own table with documents they need to create or duplicate," Simon explained. They were alone and after they had taken their seats, he said, "As you know, I'm also responsible for the commandery's letters of credit."

"Yes, but I've always wondered how it's possible to leave gold ducats in one place and receive the same value thousands of kilometers away just by showing a document." "We Templars have branches all over Europe and in the Holy Land. We have developed a system of promissory bills to make it easier to transfer the money we earn without risk. "Look here," Simon said, handing the document to Arnaud. "Each letter of credit bears our seal at the top, the text reads: SIGILLUM MILITUM CHRISTI DE TEMPLO.

The document is sealed with the sealing wax of the issuing commandery. When a commandery receives a letter of credit, it is checked for authenticity. As additional protection against forgers, the issuer writes a password on the top right-hand side of the letter using colorless vinegar. During drying, the water evaporates from the vinegar, while the acetic acid remains on the paper. This writing only becomes visible as reddish-purple letters after treatment with red cabbage water." Simon dripped some red cabbage water onto the letter of credit and the words "obedientia et pudicitia" actually became visible. "Obedience and chastity, the maxim of the Templars," Arnaud managed to say. Simon grinned. "Only if the owner of the letter also knows this password will the guaranteed sum be paid out." Arnaud couldn't hide his astonishment. Simon smiled at him and said: "You see, even without a sword, I'm not completely powerless." "May I ask you a personal question, Simon?" "Yes, go ahead." "How long have you been in Gisors and who are your parents?" Simon's smile froze from one moment to the next. "I'm a foundling," Simon said in a saddened voice. "I was found outside the castle gates. Obviously my mother didn't want to keep me, as my left foot is crippled. The monks didn't know what to do with me and put me in the care of François, the merchant. I think you know him, don't you?" "Yes, of course, he was kind enough to take me here." "François and Nathalie already had four children and were willing to bring me up. When I was eight, they handed me back to the Templars, who gave me a thorough education. One day I will be the chief archivist of this castle," said Simon, who had now found his smile again.

Arnaud looked at his reflection in the water of the fountain. He saw that the fuzz of youth had now given way to a handsome full beard. He had come to Gisors two years ago and was now a sergeant and Richard de Delincourt's right-hand man. Life at the castle and the duties associated with it had taken up all his time, but every now and then he still thought about his dream of a trip to the Holy Land. Especially when Simon told stories about the events in the Kingdom of Jerusalem. They met secretly in the castle archives and Simon showed him his true passion, calligraphy. On his writing desk were dozens of small jars of the most beautiful colors that nature had to offer. He explained to him that blue paint was made from lapis lazuli and that red came from madder mixed with alum. Simon made copies of the Holy Scriptures with color illustrations of the miracles of Jesus Christ. He was particularly impressed by the healing of the sick. His favorite legend was the healing of Lazarus.* "His relics are in Autun Cathedral. Did you know that?" "In Burgundy?" "Yes, they came into the possession of the bishop in a roundabout way." Simon spent whole days painting the pictures in the most beautiful colors. "Look, Arnaud, this is our Lord Jesus raising Lazarus." "Wonderful, that's how I always dreamed it would be. You are a master of your craft."

* The name "Lazarus" is derived from the ancient Hebrew "El Azar" and means "God has helped". The relics of St. Lazarus originally came from Larnaca in Cyprus. They arrived in the Cathedral of St. Lazarus in Autun via Constantinople and Marseille. In 1146, they were transferred to the newly built three-nave basilica.

Arnaud asked if there was any news from the Holy Land yet. "As you know, Arnaud de Toroge died in September last year. At the following General Chapter, Gerard de Ridefort(9)was appointed the new Grand Master of the Templars. Sadly, the Kingdom of Jerusalem is now threatened by Saladin's troops from both the north and the south and is short of knights and foot soldiers," Simon said in a thoughtful voice. "Do you remember Montgisard?" "Yes," replied Arnaud, "how could I not? You know that the Holy Land is the goal of my dreams." "The victory under Baudoin IV(10)at the Battle of Montgisard eight years ago only gave the Kingdom of Jerusalem a brief respite," said Simon in a depressed voice. Arnaud was full of admiration for the courage and tactics of the Knights Templar. Despite their numerical inferiority, they had succeeded in defeating Saladin, the ruler of the Saracens. Under the leadership of Odo Saint-Amand(11), the Grand Master of Jerusalem, a phalanx of only eighty-four knights had hit Saladin's troops like a hammer, breaking their ranks and clearing the way for the royal troops under Baudoin. Saladin(12)himself had been shaken by the force of the attack.

* This battle tactic was a novelty in medieval warfare and was called eschielle, after the French word for "squadron". In principle, it was a tightly packed squadron of Templars, riding so close saddle to saddle that not even an apple fell between the horses. In contrast to regular troops, who never achieved such a high degree of perfection in their attacks, the Templars explicitly trained the Eschielle.

"Gerard de Ridefort canvassed all the commanderies for volunteers to serve in the Holy Land."

Arnaud looked into his friend's eyes and knew from that moment that he would take up the cross. The next day, he reported for duty in the Holy Land. He had lain awake all night. His friendship with Simon meant a great deal to him and Gisors Castle had also become a second home to him. But it had been decided that he would travel to Jerusalem togetherwith five knights from the castle. Arnaud finished his morning ablutions and sought out Simon in the library. "How are you, my brother?" Simon looked up briefly from his copy and replied: "Fine, even if it saddens me that we will part ways tomorrow." Arnaud looked at him in dismay. "Simon, you are like a brother to me and I will always carry you in my heart. I'll write to you as often as I can, let me give you a hug." He approached Simon and embraced him from the depths of his soul and said: "I must go my way, take care of yourself, my brother."

The next day, Arnaud left Gisors Castle for Paris with five knights under the leadership of Roger de Granville. De Granville was taking up the cross for the second time and had only returned from the Holy Land the previous year. Simon stood on the wall of the castle and Arnaud gave his friend one last look before the Templars set off. They took the old Roman road towards Cergy, but their progress was slow due to the bad weather. The ground was deep and the constant rain was hard on both the riders and the horses. The nights were still far too cold for March, so they could only ride during the day. After just under a week, they could finally see Paris in the distance and rode from the west towards the Marais. The city was larger than Arnaud had expected and its smell made Arnaud deeply uncomfortable. The population defecated in the open streets and sewage was poured out of the windows of the houses, causing small stinking streams to make their way through the streets and on to the nearby river. They rode along the Seine to the Ile de Cite. They could see Notre Dame Cathedral under construction from afar. Arnaud was overwhelmed by the sheer size of the building. "They've been building it for twenty years," said Roger de Granville. "When it's finished, it will be the most imposing building in Christendom and a tribute from all the French to our God, the Creator." The north tower had already been completed and rose so high into the cloudsthat it almost merged with the sky. They crossed the Seine via the Pont Notre Dame and finally arrived at the temple in Paris. This was located in the Marais, a former swamp. Like all Templar castles, it was well fortified and extended over several buildings. Directly in front of the gate was the accommodation of the Sisters of St. Elizabeth. As friars who had taken up the cross, they were received personally by Gerard de Ridefort*.

* Gerard de Ridefort did not receive the call to serve as a member of the Order until late in his life. He was originally supposed to receive lands under Raymond III of Tripoli(13)through marriage to Lucia of Batrun, but the count had betrayed him and so he joined the Knights Templar in 1174 and was their Grand Master from 1184 until his death outside Acre in 1189.