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Whether they were members of the same squad that had just ridden through town, or another stationed here at Dover, I could not tell, but Sir Hugh was talking to them anxiously, as if agitated about something.
    They stood off to the side of the gate in the falling shadows and leaned close to one another, making sure they could not be overheard.
    I did not want Sir Hugh to see me. Before he could glance in my direction, I dodged behind a wagon that stood parked in the street, peering around the side while the conversation went on.
    After watching for a moment more and still unable to hear, I saw Sir Hugh reach into his belt and remove a scrap of parchment, which he handed to one of the guards. He also handed them a small pouch that I assumed contained coins. Some agreement reached, the guards nodded, mounted their horses and rode off in the opposite direction. Not toward the castle where the other guards had escorted the King, but west as if they were leaving town.
    Sir Hugh watched them until they rode out of sight. He said something to the other Templar, who nodded, and together they disappeared through the gate of the Commandery. I waited a few minutes more, making sure he did not suddenly reappear, then moved from behind the wagon.
    Quickly, I entered the compound, wondering what to do with this knowledge. Instinct told me that Sir Hugh was up to something. Then again, he was the Marshal of the Regimento. Surely he could have legitimate business with the King’s Guards. Perhaps they were discussing military strategy, or the need for provisions or supplies of some sort.
    If I told Sir Thomas what I had seen, would he think me foolish? That I had been spying on his brothers, assuming an interest in something that was none of my business?
    Entering the main hall I was greeted by the sounds of the evening meal in progress. The Templars were a much louder crowd than the monks, and the tables were full of noise and conversation. Sir Thomas was seated at the far wall with Sir Basil and some others, so I made my way there.
    “Tristan! There you are,” Sir Thomas said when he saw my approach. “I was wondering what took you so long.”
    “He had to give that old plow horse a kiss good-bye!” Sir Basil said, and the table of knights erupted in laughter as I turned red.
    “Go easy on the boy, Basil,” Sir Thomas said. “Give him a day or two to get his bearings before you unleash that wit of yours.”
    “Sir Thomas, I wanted to tell you…” I started to report what I had seen in the street outside, but before I could get the words out, he interrupted me.
    “You’ll need to fill a plate and eat quickly—we have important business ahead of us tonight, and not much time,” he said. From the seat next to him Sir Thomas picked up a brown garment and handed it to me.
    “Once you’ve finished eating, change into this. It is a servante’s tunic. You will wear it from now on as a member of the Order.”
    “Certainly, sire, and there will be chores, I assume?” I asked.
    “No chores tonight, boy; there’ll be time for that tomorrow. But eat and change quickly. You’ll want to be presentable for an audience with the King.”
    I looked up from my study of the garment at his face. He had that twinkle in his eye, but I could tell he was serious.
    “Excuse me, Sir Thomas. But did you just say ‘an audience with the King’?”
    “Indeed I did, lad. You aren’t hard of hearing, are you? I could have the physician examine your ears if you’d like,” he said with mock concern.
    “No, sire, not necessary—my ears are fine,” I said. But I stood there holding my tunic with what I’m sure was a dazed expression on my face.
    “Tristan?” Sir Thomas said.
    “Yes, sire?”
    “Your meal? Change? There’s not much time. The King expects us shortly,” he said.
    Sir Thomas smiled at me. Sir Basil appeared next to me with a plate heaped with food. He placed it at an open seat at the table and beckoned me to sit.
    In all the