Knights And Maidens Pt. 04

I counted our prisoners as they filed past me into the woods, before taking up my position behind Olivia at the rear. There were fifty-two altogether. Some were from the Annexe, junior Maidens who had been staying overnight in the Maidenhall, for one reason or other. Outnumbering their escort by a dozen to one, even with their hands bound behind their backs the girls could have given us trouble. But their tether kept them in line, making escape into the forest virtually impossible, and thereby stifling any latent spirit of rebellion.

Of course, I was still concerned that one of the girls might suddenly decide on defiance and plant her backside on the path. This could then spread like a wave along the entire column. If I and my brother Knights tried to manhandle the recalcitrant back to her feet, that itself might precipitate rebellion. Yet nothing happened; and I actually felt some disillusionment at the lack of audacious spirit.

I moved up the line and snapped an order to Rick to speed up our progress. There was grumbling from a few of the women, because quickening the pace meant more onerous barefoot trudging on the narrow, uneven trail, more of the stinging swish of undergrowth against bare arms and legs, harder puffing and panting for those who were gagged. I told myself it was for their own good, given the pre-dawn chill and their general state of undress. Yet to be honest, and to my shame, I wanted to impress Alice with my command style. But she gave me another look, the only one we shared during the short trek through the woods, and her expression was ambiguous, one of both approval and reproach. And the fact is that I didn't feel pride, nor satisfaction nor conceit... rather, a sort of melancholy hollowness. Because from that moment, I knew that my relationship with Alice could never be the same.

Even as I was thinking this, the front of the column had emerged from the forest; and since the ground there was easier to cover, the line began to spread out, as far as their tether allowed. By the time I and the last women reached the cul-de-sac in front of the Temple, the first arrivals were already kneeling on the dew-damp grass on the far side, in a rough semicircle. But even before we had left the trees, a weird, almost creepy noise greeted our arrival -- a low-key, guttural rumble of voices every so often pierced by a high-pitched screeching laugh and now and then the harsh metallic squawk of a megaphone.

The sun was now sitting on the horizon, peering around the edge of the building and spreading its warming light across the south-eastern portion of the lawn but leaving the rest, including the front façade, in shadow. On the portico of the Temple, and spilling out onto the grass, all the Knights who had not been part of the raid on the Maidenhall were gathered. Collected at the entrance to the Annexe, but no lower than the bottom step, were fifty or more girls. I scanned the faces of the latter and recognized Sabrina and Lucy and Hannah and Rachel. Their expressions, for what I could see in the dull glow of the porch lights, were of curiosity mingled with disgust and arousal, as they witnessed their senior sisters being so humbled. I didn't spot Kate. She and many of the second- and third-year Maidens had chosen to stay in bed. They had viewed this spectacle before, or something like it, and were sure they would experience it themselves one day. Still, I felt a twinge of disappointment that not all were there to witness my triumphal advent.

The Knights assembled in front of the Temple began to clap and cheer with salutes and tributes, chants and whistles; but none ventured near the captives. Rick, Tom and Mike organized the last of the girls while the Senior Master, the only one besides us four resplendent in a scarlet cape, stepped out of the crowd, strode up to me and shook my hand.

"Congratulations," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "on a job well done. The successful completion of your mission is a fitting end to your apprenticeship."

I didn't bother to tell him how easy it had been made for us. He knew. But once again, like my admission to the Templars and my anointment to the Council, I felt that the credit belonged elsewhere.

"You have earned your place in the noble fraternity of Knights."

"Thanks," I mumbled. I didn't feel so noble... actually rather numb. It wasn't what I'd expected, not what I'd been told.

"Let's go inside," the Senior Master continued in a quieter voice, "and get out of these... costumes." It was the first time I had heard him refer to the habits and habiliments of the Templars without the de rigueur pomposity and solemnity. "Call your men."

"The prisoners..." I began to say.

He waved his hands dismissively, and for just an instant his face darkened.

"Not your... They'll be taken care of."

"Not your concern," he'd been about to say. "Taken care of" did not sound much better.

I thought of Alice and the other girls shivering in their skimpies on the lawn, their hands still bound behind their backs. Their ordeal was not yet over... far from it, I was certain. I pitied them, was worried for them. But there was something else, something that gnawed away at the self-satisfaction and self-importance I should have been feeling as I basked in my prestige.

So far, my experiences with the Order of the Temple had been perplexing. The more I thought I knew, the more I realized I didn't understand. Now, for really the first time, I began to peer past the curtain, to see what lay behind the illusion. For despite this moment of concocted glory I realized, with a startling and unnerving clarity, that the illusion was all there was. The Temple, for all its grandeur and grandiloquence, stood upon a foundation of sand.

***

Please bear with the (mercifully brief) history lesson.

In my account so far I have probably made it sound as if, in the weeks since I was inducted into the Order it was the centre of my existence. In reality, most of my time, energy and attention were devoted to my studies, and I rarely encountered my fellow Knights or any of the Maidens beyond the Temple precinct. The campus was large, with forty thousand students, and the Order was by that measure tiny. On the other hand, my social life, such as it was, did revolve around it, since these were the only people with whom I had regular contact outside of my classes. But most weekend activities were not as rambunctious as on that first Saturday night, which was a good thing.

I got to know a few of the Maidens. We never socialized in the Annexe, though not because it was out of bounds. It was the Temple proper which had the space and the amenities; and the women had free use of the facilities. I occasionally called on Kate; but sadly there was no repeat of that first-time spectacle. Nevertheless, her roommates treated me like visiting royalty, even if it was obvious that this was mainly teasing. Lucy remained her usual shy and retiring self.

Meanwhile, my friendship with Alice blossomed. She and I made it a habit to meet for coffee at least once each week, and as it was becoming the pivot of my campus life I began to research the history and traditions of the Temple. Alice was at first my prime source of information, but she did not make it easy. She volunteered almost nothing without prompting, leaving it for me to raise topics of interest. She wasn't necessarily being secretive or mysterious, but I detected a reticence about disclosing too much potentially sensitive information to a novice like myself. While her misgivings were understandable, I found her attitude rather irritating, and even a little insulting. However, it became a game, as I contrived ways of teasing as much knowledge as I could out of her.

Naturally I conducted my own, independent research. It was not an easy task to dig out the relevant facts, so the account which follows was pieced together after months of intensive effort. However, the problem was not that the Order was particularly secretive or sensitive about its origins and evolution. In fact, if anything there was too much material to digest. No one had bothered to organize it into a coherent, systematic record. It was therefore somewhat disillusioning to discover that most Templars -- Ben a good example -- were indifferent to the Order's fascinating backstory.

Its history dates to the founding of the university, more than a half-century ago. The Temple was the first official residence for male students. Its proper name, Temple Hall, was not derived from its imposing architecture but, more prosaically, honoured Professor Temple, the inaugural Principal of what was originally University College. Once a few years had passed, it was amalgamated with nearby Women's College, a move which ignited controversy at the time. Then, as the university grew and more residential houses were founded, the Temple was rechartered as a private institution, managed by a corporation of alumni and "friends" (supporters from the local business community). As a result of this historical role in the establishment of the university, its considerable resources and a fifty-year tradition of solidarity and self-reliance, the Temple has exercised, down to the present day, an influence in campus and extramural affairs disproportionate to its size.

Yet not everything ran smoothly. A major upheaval occurred ten years after the merger, and this set the direction which the Order has taken ever since. Never reconciled to their union with the Temple, the female residents finally rebelled against a host of stringently enforced, petty, restrictive and discriminatory rules and regulations that governed their lives and from which their male counterparts were exempt, like dress codes and curfews. Back when women were a minority on campus and knew their place, that would not have been much of an issue. But this was the age of liberation, and a sit-in protest which began over some minor incident escalated into a year-long confrontation. At first sympathetic and supportive, the males became alienated as the dispute dragged on and the adverse publicity began to take its toll. The stand-off eventually came to an end with intervention by campus security officers, the crushing of the revolt, numerous suspensions and expulsions of alleged ring-leaders. However, the embarrassment the affair had caused led to the dissolution of the corporation and the withdrawal of most of the business patronage. It took several years to rebuild.

Under the new charter the alumni association, renamed the Guild, took full control of the Temple. It granted effective autonomy to a students' cooperative society which called itself, grandiloquently, the Order of the Temple. Yet the changes proved no more than cosmetic, and over the next half-decade the Order experienced severe financial difficulties. It was during this period that the Annexe was built, to serve as the new residence while the Temple itself was leased to a private consortium providing prestige on-campus accommodation. Such ignominy represented the nadir of the Order's fortunes.

What saved it was the dramatic growth of the university which took place during that time, and the resulting surge in demand for residential places. At the same time, the loss of outside patronage provided an incentive for the Temple to become entirely self-sufficient; and within a few years, through good management and some good luck, it had grown into a wealthy and powerful institution. By extracting a tithe from its members, the Guild was able to pay out the leaseholders and reclaim the main building for the Order. Thereafter it amassed the resources to provide free accommodation and tuition. The Templars themselves set up self-help and mentoring programs. Work duty rosters were introduced to save on the cost of housekeeping staff. This not only gave a boost to recruitment but also allowed the Order to be selective (one might say elitist) in its recruiting.

However, these reforms were nearly undone by the female secession.

A turning point had been reached when females began to outnumber men on the wider campus and women won seats on the Temple Council. It was no longer possible for the Order to ignore the needs and aspirations of half its members. Yet the leadership tried to do just that. Male residents established a fraternal organization known as the Knights of the Temple. They pledged to stand in solidarity against any reform agenda.

If there is what could be called a "secret history" of the Templars, the events of the next few years comprise it. Nothing has been censored or suppressed, but almost nobody I spoke with seemed to be aware that the radical changes which created the Order as we know it today were impelled by what has become known as the Schism. Most people I talked to had heard of it, but despite the comparatively recent occurrence they had satisfied themselves with just a vague understanding of what happened. Even Alice appeared reticent to delve.

Except for this gap, the revelations brought my research up to the present day. What I have presented here is the bare-bones version of the history of the Order of the Temple. There were a lot more mundane details. During this quest, Alice had been my most reliable source of information. It was not that she was privy to secrets hidden away in underground vaults, or encoded in cryptic documents, or anything like that. It was simply that, as a student of history with an inquisitive mind, she had been accumulating this material. It was not until our chance encounter that she found someone with a similar interest. Our mutual curiosity was not shared by most of our fellow members. But there was also a disinclination to pry too deeply into the past. This was that "don't look a gift horse in the mouth" syndrome to which even I had not been entirely immune.

For Alice there was also the concern that her investigations might be misinterpreted as an attempt to dig up skeletons that might be best left buried. At first I did not appreciate this. There were occasions when she was reluctant to continue, and once she even used the phrase "let sleeping dogs lie." That irritated me, and her response was shocking, because it was the closest she ever came to losing her temper.

"It's easy for you!" she snarled.

It took me a while to understand, but when I did I was suitably ashamed. Wrapped up in the Templar cocoon, it was so easy to take for granted the privileges of my gender.

In any case, as time passed and I settled into the routine of university life beyond the Order, I began to break out of my Templar-oriented existence. In the seventh week of the academic year, the real action on campus was not to be found in the classroom. Saint Patrick's Day is an especially prominent event on the calendar, partly because the local community has a large Irish component, but also because it provides such a worthy excuse -- if any is actually needed -- for ingesting copious amounts of alcohol and engaging in diverse public indiscretions. (Irish heritage is an advantage but by no means a requirement.) This year the seventeenth of March was mid-week, and the Templars celebrated with a gargantuan banquet. There was a larger than usual contingent of serving girls, and I was not surprised to see their dresses coloured emerald green, though offering no more comfort or covering than the conventional white.

Anyhow, a couple of days earlier, I had been leaving one of my lectures when I heard a familiar voice.

"Hey bro, got time for a beer?"

A lanky, dishevelled form pushed through the crowd.

"Hi, Perry. Good to see you... but not now I'm afraid. Got a class to get to."

"Fair ʼnuff. So how's it hangin'?"

"It's... hangin' just fine. Thanks for asking. And yours?"

"Outstanding!"

I didn't need that imagery.

"So, you still living in that dump?"

"The boarding house? No, I'm with my sister." Well, in a way it was true. I did not really need a cover story, but I had heard, albeit from not disinterested sources, that there was bad blood between the Templars and the Communards (as the denizens of the Commune styled themselves).

"How's life where you are?"

Perry grinned and slapped his thigh. "The parties, man! The chicks, man!" A couple of months of university were not enough to change him.

"Well, must go," I said. "I've got a class starting... You do know what classes are?"

He gave me a puzzled look. "I've heard of 'em. I try not to get too close."

"That's the spirit. See you around?"

"Yeah, bro. Here, take this. See ya."

"Cheers."

Then he was gone. I studied the leaflet he had thrust into my hand. It was a strange piece of artwork, ornately decorated with shamrocks and faux-Celtic runes that spelt out a day (Friday), a time (after five o'clock) and a place (Richmond Hall). The centrepiece was very odd, a picture of a lecherous-looking leprechaun wielding a shillelagh and riding a cow.

Mystified, I showed it to Alice. If anyone could decipher it for me, being an archaeologist it was she. Indeed, she took one look at the sheet, giggled and shook her head.

"This confirms everything I already knew, all you need to know, about those guys in Richmond Hall."

"Eh?" As much as I liked being around her, sometimes she made me feel so mentally challenged.

"The cow," she explained, "is part of the iconography of Saint Brigid. She's..."

"Yeah," I interrupted. "This I know. Irish saint, patroness of poets and blacksmiths, the female version of Saint Patrick..." I trailed off as I thought about the shillelagh, a symbol of manhood and fertility. Templar symbology had at least some subtlety. "Hey, that's blasphemous!"

"It's well known that hanging around those guys will rot your brain, ruin your liver and blight your soul."

"And despoil your womenfolk," I added.

"So naturally you will be going."

"Of course. Where there's womenfolk to be despoiled, there you will find me."

"Good luck with the hellfire."

I was almost tempted to ask Alice to accompany me, except that (firstly) I had already felt her vicious right jab; and (secondly) I had someone else in mind.

By this time any fantasies I'd entertained of being with Sabrina had evaporated; but that was all they had ever been, fantasies. I did get to see her when she was serving dinner and doing our laundry, and I encountered her in the Annexe a few times; but that was as far as it went.

However, I had begun to get close to a girl in one of my regular classes. Her name was Sarah, and she was a "townie" -- a local girl who lived at home, off-campus. She was quiet, sweet-natured and very pretty. We were not yet boy- and girlfriend, but we were "study buddies" and the relationship was evolving quickly. I had not told her about the Temple. She knew of its existence, of course, but not my involvement. I somehow managed to avoid revealing my place of residence.

I was reluctant at first to show her the profane pamphlet, she being a good Catholic girl; but she laughed, then shrugged it off with an Alice-like invocation. "Richmond Hall? More like Richmond Hell." And thus we entered the Inferno. However, hopes of winning my fair lady's heart by saving her from being ravished by the drunken hordes were dashed; not because she was indeed carried off and ravished, but because the party was almost tame by the standard set by the myth, even in comparison with that first Saturday evening in the Temple. Indeed, I began to suspect that the popular perception of Richmond Hall, as a pit of perdition seething with satyrs and satanists, was more figment than reality. I also began to doubt the alleged enmity because I saw several of the Templars, and even Maidens (undefiled) enjoying the hospitality of the Communards.

After that, our bond developed to the point that I spent her birthday with Sarah and her parents on the weekend before Easter. I then went home to my parents for the holiday. Kate was off somewhere with her boyfriend.