The Legacy of Two Gemini Knights

By Geoff Logan

Occasonally, a tale comes along that has been lost in the mists of time. Often the story starts out as just another mundane event in daily life until something else comes out from behind the shadows. And when it does, nobody can escape the fire storm that follows, especially when the masked one demands so much of our attention. Because in the end, the consequences of his actions eventually consume all of those in its path.

William McBride was such a person in the early 14th century, when he came in contact with the Logan brothers of Lanark, who were also known to the locals as the Gemini Knights. These brothers were Templar Knights of the Scottish Order and they carried out a number dangerous exploits in their time. And as William McBride found out in later life, the times he spent with the brothers would eventually place him on a path that could have a profound impact on the City of Jerusalem at the end time.

To some, this story may appear to be just another old wives tale, worthy of a good read and then placed on the book shelve to gather dust from now on. However, to others the story of the Gemini Knights has more than just a ring of truth to it in some kind of old fashioned way. Enough, to engage the mind in more than a simple observation of the material that William McBride collected over his life time.So, if you have an inquisitive mind and want to gain a glimpse into the future, the only question you have to ask yourself is. 'Do I have the courage to read the book and judge for myself?'

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491859001

Geoff Logan

Geoff Logan writes about the end time. This interest comes from his former Scottish ancestors who were Templar Knights of the old tradition. The knights were believed to have been chosen to build the last temple in Jerusalem and the author has spent much of his life researching their exploits. Geoff Logan enjoys travelling and exploring many of the historical places that the Knights Templar lived and played in during the medieval period. This book reflects many of those encounters and the author has attempted to place them in a modern context of today. So that the reader can explore for themselves if any of these truths have a place in the present social setting to help us negotiate the chaos of a future world.

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© 2014 by Geoff Logan. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/12/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-6404-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-6405-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-5900-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014902860

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Epilogue

About the Author

PROLOGUE

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M Y LEGS NO LONGER carry me along the sandy shores of Cardigan Bay in Wales. How I miss the water running through my feet in the coolness of the evening. Still age catches up with all of us in the end. If you ask me have I enjoyed my life over these past decades, the answer comes with some hesitation. Only recently have I gained some satisfaction from transcribing the story of my father, William McBride, who was born in Scotland and spent a number of his early years as an apprentice squire to two brothers, Sir Walter and Sir Robert Logan. To others, they were also known as the Gemini knights of Lanark and the adventures he undertook with them to Portugal and Spain as Templar knights, helped shape much of my father’s later life. And this in turn led to me his only daughter, Tywanedd, to finally live in this part of Britain.

If it had not been for this turn of events, I would have not met my future Welsh husband, a man with intense blue eyes whose presence always gave me the impression that he belonged to a different time and place in this world. He had met my father many years before and said that the Scotsman was an unsung hero of those who followed Arthur and the Celtic brotherhood that are still to come. Naturally, I was sceptical at first and only after reading his diaries that the former squire left me, does there appear to be something to what my husband said all those years ago. And who would have thought that a simple statue placed in my father’s care, known as the Cauldron of Diwrnach, could play such a significant part in the long march towards the end time. A period that would one day see the building of the third and last Temple on the Mount in Jerusalem and the return of the Messiah, Jesus Christ, to the Holy Land.

Sadly, because of my young age, I knew very little of the real man, William McBride. Only now through his writing have I come to appreciate him as someone close to my heart. So, perhaps after reading this manuscript you can judge for yourself if these facts warrant my husband’s praise.

CHAPTER ONE

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M Y FATHER’S STORY STARTS in 1325 AD. In that year, the winter was extremely cold and wet across the rolling hills of the Clydesdale farmlands. The icy winds swept in from the Atlantic Ocean and covered the Lowlands of Scotland with sleet and blankets of rolling fog. In the village of Lanark, farmers wondered about the effects of such ill weather on their sheep and cattle. Even the market gardeners became concerned for next year’s crop, as their vegetable patches became water logged with streams of thick sticky mud.

One of those families anxiously waiting events, were my grandparents. Known as the McBride’s, they lived on a small acreage at the village edge. A grey stoned out house with its thatched roof was home to Malcolm McBride, his wife Margaret and their three children William, Marion and Agnes. During these long winters, the family were very much confined to work on the farm allotment. The nearby town of Lanark was situated on the top of a large hill and the trek to and from the river valley below could be an arduous one for all those who had to make the journey. The family’s only relief from a cold days labour in the fields came from a log fire in the centre of the modestly furnished two-roomed house.

Like so many of the other market gardeners in Lanark, my grandparents struggled to make ends meet. Malcolm made extra pennies by carting cattle fodder for farmers in his horse and cart, while Margaret tilled our market garden along with the help of William, their seventeen year old son. As both toiled throughout the day, Nan would try and educate her son as best she could with stories and tales from the family’s ancient Celtic past. And after these lessons, Will would often dream at night of what it would be like to accompany the great mythical warrior, Cuchulainn, who protected the immortal souls of those Celtic peoples occupying the lands of Ulster against the evil kingdoms of Munster, Leinster and Connacht in the south of Ireland. Nan use to always say. ‘Those of the Celtic faith must always be prepared for the battles ahead. One day the Lion of Septebtrion, will come in the name of Cuchulainn and call on the faithful to follow his path to a better Celtic future.’

While Gramps had few expectations of his children, Nan was more ambitious. Often she would do extra housekeeping work on weekends for the more well-to-do families of the Clydesdale valley. As a maid at the many country house afternoon tea parties, Margaret often overheard stories of the outside world and the politics of the day. Many a gentleman farmer would talk of the benefits that Robert the Bruce had brought to the Lowlands since becoming king of an independent Scotland. For more than a decade now of his rule, the Borderlands between Edinburgh and Northumberland had been relatively free of invading English armies. And over these years, industry and trade had expanded between the Scottish towns on the plains below that in turn demanded an ever expanding civil service to keep pace with a bustling economy.

Nan firmly believed that the future of her son, Will, lay outside of having to work in a vegetable garden for the rest of his life and thought a job in the civil service might just be the answer. Some six months before, she had discussed this matter with the village priest. Father Byars was sympathetic and suggested that the young man begin his education by attending parish writing lessons every Tuesday and Thursday mornings. The priest explained to Margaret that all new employees of the nearby Sheriff Offices in Douglas and Hamilton had to count numbers and record their findings in ledger books. The writing classes for Will would be a good first step the priest said. At the beginning, Malcolm disagreed, strongly believing the boy would be more help to his mother on the land. However, Margaret persisted and eventually Gramps allowed Will a few hours a week to attend classes, providing all his chores at home were completed beforehand.

In his early years, according to all accounts, my father had been a rather sensitive and shy child. He spent little time with other boys of his age, instead enjoying his own company playing in the nearby forest. Will’s greatest pride and joy came from a slingshot that was made of animal skins. He practiced his shooting skills for hours on end in the forest and took the weapon everywhere he went. Over time, this trademark would come in very handy, particularly during spring time when it was necessary to scare away wild birds attempting to steal the growing vegetables at the back of the house.

At first, the young man found the writing classes difficult to master. He was conscious of his lowly status and found himself frequently competing against the sons of town merchants and traders. Often these lads had travelled with their fathers on business to other Scottish towns and cities and were more worldly than Will. They continually looked down on him and he felt isolated and disadvantaged for being just a farming boy. Will’s baggy farm pants, rough wavy hair and my grandmother’s home-sewn shirts set him aside from his more refined class mates. At times, the boy wished he could just leave, but decided to continue only out of fear of making his mother very angry and disappointed in him.

On those occasions when he wandered about the churchyard by himself during a break in classes, Will noticed a blacksmith shop opposite. The sign read GILMOUR: IRONMONGER & BLACKSMITH. Will loved the big brown and white horses that did so much of the back breaking work for farmers on the land. Often on his way back from the forest, he passed the majestic Clydesdales in the fields as they slowly ploughed the pastures for next years barley crop. The young lad often wondered how these horses could be so placid and content with their lives, when toiling so hard from sunrise to dusk.

Every now and then, when the horses were brought to the blacksmith shop for a new set of shoes, Will would inevitably sneak across the road and talk to each one of the horses as they waited patiently out the front. Alexander Gilmour, the owner of the business, noticed the young lad at various times and was impressed by his ability to calm a frisky animal with a single stroke of a horses nose. The blacksmith had been in the trade for twenty seven years and knew how difficult it was to find a handler that could work well with horses.

‘To have a natural affinity with animals is a rare quality to possess in any human being;’ he often said to the other workers.

Gilmour decided to test his curiosity out and waited for the right opportunity. This came sooner than expected. Another bout of influenza had swept through the village keeping a number of foundry hands away from work. This could not have come at a worse time for the blacksmith. As the winter thawed, farmers were beginning to stir into action and horses needed to be ready for a hard workdays ahead. In the workshop, tensions were rising as the backlog of incoming horses fell behind schedule. By that Thursday, the place was positively chaotic and Gilmour started hearing complaints from the frustrated foremen waiting outside. Drastic measures were now called for to deal with these difficult circumstances.

Around noon, the blacksmith kept a look out for Will and as soon as he came out of class, Gilmore called out to the lad across the road. ‘Young man, can you come here, I need you right away.’

Will at first looked bewildered, however, Gilmour kept waving at him to come. Recovering from the initial shock, the boy hesitantly made his way in the direction of the blacksmith thinking he had done something wrong. However, when he came face to face with Gilmour, the blacksmith said. ‘I am unable to explain right now, but can you bring the horses into the workshop when we ask you. Do you have the time?’

Without thinking Will said, ‘yes I can.’ Relieved, the blacksmith reassured the lad by saying. ‘Don’t worry, I will show you what to do,’ before immediately disappearing back inside the busy workshop.

As each call came, Will brought one horse after another into the workshop. He held them by the tether while each was given a new set of iron shoes. For Will, the inside of a blacksmiths shop represented a very different experience to anything he had witnessed before. Hot kilns turned old scrap metal into liquid moulds of all shapes and sizes. Then, the blacksmiths would pound the moulds with hammers until they fitted perfectly the hooves of each individual horse. Fascinated, the boy tried to figure out how the blacksmiths could be so skilled at such a task. Towards the end of the afternoon, everyone grunted their thanks to him as weary workers headed for home. This just left Will time enough to pick up his belongings and make for the main road to the valley floor below.

Several days passed without any contact with Gilmore, until one morning after class, Will found the blacksmith waiting for him in the church yard. As they approached each other, he said. ‘Young man, I am sorry for not speaking to you earlier. We have been so busy over the last week that your help the other day slipped my mind.’

Will acknowledged the comments without saying anything.

Gilmour, then pulled from his jacket pocket a leather pouch and handed it to Will.

‘Something in appreciation for your efforts.’

At first the boy was not sure of what to make of the pouch until his visitor continued.

‘Go on, take it. I notice you always have a slingshot in your belt. That is no place to keep such a fine weapon. A warrior always needs to take good care of his life blood.’ Will was not sure what the blacksmith meant, but managed to say a thank you anyway.

Gilmore then asked. ‘Are you interested in horses? ‘I guess so,’ answered the boy. ‘Their grace and natural strength have always fascinated me in some way.’

As the exchange continued, Will became conscious for the first time of the man he was talking to for the last five minutes. Dressed in heavy workman’s boots and a full length leather apron, Gilmour, stood about five and a half foot tall, thick set with little hair on his scarred head. A ruddy face made him look around sixty years of age, but the boy thought he was probably younger. The result of someone who had spent most of his life sweating in a hot and dirty foundry, seemed the most likely explanation. Will, who was several inches taller and much thinner in build, looked down as the blacksmith said. ‘If you are interested, come over after class on Thursday and I will show you the way we do things in the work place.’

Gilmour had walked out of the churchyard before Will could even respond, leaving the boy to ponder the invitation over the next few days. As with most things, curiosity finally got the better of the boy and as expected he turned up at the workshop the following week. In between bringing the horses into the workshop, the blacksmith demonstrated to his eager pupil how to measure the thickness of a horseshoe and where to place the nails in order to secure a good fit on the hoof. As time went by and more visits to the workshop came and went, Will started to show an ability to use a rule and compass to measure different hoof prints. Then, after a month or two, he could identify what fittings were more suited for each breed of stallion and gelding.

Inevitably however, the workshop visits came to an abrupt end. Gramps had come to learn that his son was spending more time in the village than helping at home. This led to an angry exchange between the two men as the blacksmith tried to explain that his star pupil had a real talent for animal husbandry. And this could be where the boy’s future employment prospects lay. No matter the logic, all reasoning failed and Malcolm forbade Will to attend further church classes and meet with Gilmore again.

As spring turned into summer, the fear of many vegetable gardeners in Lanark became a reality. The heavy rains had washed away much of the topsoil. Next year’s crop would be a lean one. Will spent much of the following months, helping his father cart virgin soil from the countryside to their small farm in an effort to improve garden yields. Although he worked hard, Nan could see that the boy’s heart was elsewhere in the village. His mother fretted for Will’s future and wondered what would become of this lad without any real prospects.

Indeed, everyone in the McBride family had to take on extra work in the village over the coming months to make ends meet. This was not something everyone relished. The walk up the road to the village was a long and tiring one and Nan would only undertake the trek when absolutely necessary. As luck would have it, one morning Margaret came across Gilmore at the village meat market and they exchanged pleasantries. The blacksmith asked after Will’s wellbeing and Nan mentioned her concern for the boy’s future. Gilmore acknowledged the problem and said he even had to lay off several foundry hands at the workshop. Times were tough. However, before departing on their separate ways, the blacksmith said he would try and keep a lookout for any employment possibilities for Will and let Mrs McBride know if anything came along. Margaret thanked Gilmore for his interest in the boy.

It was not until a few weeks later when Father Byars was passing the farm that he called out to Margaret about a message from Gilmore to come and see him. She eventually caught up with the blacksmith one afternoon outside the front of the workshop. On the street veranda, he told her that a knight and local landowner was in need of a new squire to attend his stable of horses. According to Gilmore, the knight, a Sir Walter Logan, had been for some years the chief protector of the monastery at Balantradoch, near Rosslyn. The blacksmith had known the knight for many years and provided Sir Walter with advice on his farm animal needs. Perhaps, Will might be interested in the position.

‘He is a demanding… but, fair man,’ Gilmore told Margaret. ‘And William would have to apply himself to the task… however, the boy will learn a trade and the opportunity to gain further education… who knows what the possibilities may lead to,’ he said reassuringly.

Nan hesitated, for she knew Will would have to leave home and more importantly, what might Gramps think. That indeed would be a very big stumbling block to overcome. The blacksmith could see that Mrs McBride had many questions to consider and suggested she and her husband take some time to think about the offer. Nevertheless, the discussion had finally brought things to a head and the pressure was now on Nan to respond. Over the coming days, Margaret stewed on the proposition. As a result, she became very moody and not her usual self around the house. Everyone could see there was a problem brewing and eventually Malcolm insisted on an explanation. After a rather tense standoff, my grandmother finally gave in. At first Margaret was afraid of Malcolm’s reaction. He had not been consulted on William’s future and she thought her husband would take the situation very badly. Initially, Gramps was extremely angry at being kept in the dark and took some time to calm down. However, in the end, even Malcolm could see that Will’s future needed sorting out and a solution must be found as soon as possible.

At first, Gramps thought Rosslyn was too far away from Lanark, some forty five miles across the other side of the country, south of Edinburgh. The boy would not see his mother again for many months or even perhaps years. Will seemed to like the idea, although the prospect of being away from the family for the first time, made him anxious and uneasy. Eventually, Malcolm swallowed his pride and asked for a meeting with Gilmore. He told the blacksmith that the family was tentatively in favour of the proposal, but the boy and his mother were worried about being separated from each other.

Gilmore recognised Mrs McBride’s concern and after some thought on the problem, said to Malcolm. ‘There may be a way out of this dilemma for everyone. Sir Walter and his brother Sir Robert Logan, own lands south-west of here at Cumnock. They visit their Grugar Estates at least twice a year to supervise work requirements and attend local cattle sales. On these visits, Sir Walter may allow Will to accompany him as far as Lanark for a few days stay with the family. What do you think?’

The prospect of a possible compromise pleased Malcolm and he asked the blacksmith if Sir Walter would agree. Gilmore said he was due to visit Balantradoch in the next month to talk to the knight about the estate’s stable needs for the coming year and would raise the possibility with him if Gramps wished. In fact, the blacksmith thought it maybe a good idea for Will to accompany him to Balantradoch. Then, both parties could see if they were suitable to each other.

Malcolm believed this would be acceptable to Will and his mother and so, both men agreed to go ahead with planning the trip to Rosslyn.

CHAPTER TWO

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A S THE EXCITEMENT BUILT around everyone in the McBride family at Will’s journey to the east, a quiet resignation existed between my grandparents. Although nothing was ever said, both knew that Will would not make the return journey with the blacksmith. His future would now be at Balantradoch. At night, Nan busied herself making extra clothes for the boy, so his limited wardrobe could meet the requirements for the new times ahead.

Finally, the day came. Will could ride one of the horses from the blacksmith’s stable and Gilmore assured the McBride’s that they would be returning to Lanark in three weeks time. As his sisters, Marion and Agnes, gave Will their list of goodies to bring home, Malcolm advised his son to always look to the future and learn as much as he could from others, whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Gilmore had been through the awkwardness of goodbyes with families many times before and knew farewells needed to end quickly. After a lasting hug from his parents and sisters, the blacksmith gestured to the boy that they needed to leave and started out along the track towards the east. Will followed as everyone waved from the farmyard gate. In later years, my father said that the only lasting impression he had of the day was to see his mother anxiously walking down to the end of the property fence, to take one last look as the horses disappeared around the bend in the road.

The journey to Rosslyn usually took three days and Gilmore knew that the best way to keep the boy from becoming depressed about leaving home was to keep him busy. He asked Will to lead the pack horses during the day and make the log fire for the campsite at night. At first, there was little conversation between the pair. The boy felt intimated by the presence of a much more worldly blacksmith and seemed afraid to ask questions that would make him look foolish. However, such worries soon eased as the hours passed.

Over the campfire at night, Gilmore told Will of his experiences as a young man, learning to drive supply wagons for the defenders of Stirling Castle during the many sieges by invading English armies. In those days before Robert the Bruce, the Scottish Lowlands were always under threat from these foreigners. Villages such as Lanark, who supported Scottish independence, always took it upon themselves to provide the homeland armies with food and supplies in times of conflict. Often, they had to take long and dangerous routes to reach the defenders and Gilmore said these experiences were the best times of his life. ‘Duress is the only way to learn a trade quickly,’ he said. ‘And you only appreciate an animal like the horse, when your very life depends on them. That is why I decided to become a blacksmith.’

The boy just stacked the fire with more wood as Gilmore continued. ‘It was because of my trade, that I first met the Logan brothers in 1314. They were younger than me; however, we were all from Lanark in those days. Robert the Bruce had called for volunteers to help fight the English at Bannockburn. The Logan’s came as infantry fighters and I was a supply supervisor to the knights supporting the Bruce. We travelled together to the battlefield and became firm friends over that year. At Stirling Castle, I was assigned to one knight in particular and his entourage, a William Sinclair of Rosslyn. During the battle, both brothers fought bravely and after the defeat of the English army, the Bruce in gratitude, rewarded them with lands at Cumnock.’

After placing the frying pan on the embers to cook some meat, Gilmour further added. ‘This is when our commercial arrangements started together, on our way back home from Stirling. We travelled in the company of Sir William Sinclair, who at the time was looking for suitable young men to be initiated into the Order of the Knights Templar. I introduced the Logan’s to Sir William and he eventually offered them apprenticeships in the Order. You see, while they had been given land, both needed an income to upgrade the properties to their full potential. And that’s where the Templar’s came in handy.’

‘Seems like a good way of killing two birds with one stone,’ replied Will.

‘Oh yes, my young friend. The connection with the Order of the Knights Templar has indeed been very rewarding for both brothers over these past years. Sir William Sinclair is the Commander of the Order for the Scottish Lowlands and Rosslyn Castle has become the centre of their commercial interests in the region. During this time, Sir Walter stayed close to Sir William and now supervises the Templar trade activities around Edinburgh.’

Then, somewhat hesitantly the boy asked. ‘You mention Sir Walter all the time… what about Sir Robert Logan… is he not just as important?’

Gilmore laughed. ‘A good question. Sir Walter is the more out-going of the two brothers, I must say. He enjoys peoples company and a good fight. This knight is a very skilled horseman and not one to take on lightly in any theatre of combat. On the other hand, Sir Robert is rather on the retiring side. He has devoted much of his life to religious study and seeking spiritual guidance as a way of service. Sir Robert is the principle knight at St Anthony’s Preceptory in South Leith.’

‘So, is one a soldier and the other a monk?’ asked Will.

‘Not entirely. Both have been trained in the art of combat as the Templar’s are essentially a military order. However, in times of peace, members are allowed to select a way of devoting themselves more closely to the work of God. Spiritual devotion or working on the land may be acceptable paths for any knight to choose. Nevertheless, it is important to remember that if the Order is threatened in any way, every brother is expected to put their life on the line without hesitation. Both Sir Walter and Sir Robert would do so if need be. That I can assure you.’

At this point in the conversation, the blacksmith could see the lateness of the hour and decided enough was enough for the time being, before saying to Will. ‘Try not to worry about these things too much… all will be revealed as time goes by.’

If my father thought Balantradoch would be a haven of abundance from Gilmore’s description, then he was sadly mistaken a day or two later. As the monastery came into view, a series of shale stone buildings could be seen in the middle of a cattle field surrounded by the foothills of the South Esk River. Like all parts of the Lowlands that year, the impact of the previous rainy season could still be seen. The summer months had hardened the fields into mudpacks that prevented a good deal of the grass from growing into lush pastures. Now in the heat of the day, wind blew dust to all parts of the estate. Roads that had been cut in two by over flowing water months before were still not repaired and the monastery seemed in need of several months of restoration work.

The track took the visitors through the fields until they reached a rock fence that surrounded the main buildings. An open white gate led to a paved assembly area next to the chapel. On the other side, several steps welcomed visitors through two large arched wooden doors that led into a greeting room. Father Berry, the resident Abbot, met Gilmore on the steps and after they exchanged pleasantries, the monk also gestured to Will to join them indoors. The room had few furnishings apart from several chairs, a low table to serve visitors refreshments and an ornamental cross that stood against the back wall.

The blacksmith introduced the boy to Father Berry, although the monk only scarcely acknowledged his presence at the time. After pouring his guests a cool drink, the priest then left the room to inform Sir Walter of their arrival. A few minutes later, the knight entered the room and he and Gilmore spent some time exchanging the latest news and gossip from Lanark. Throughout their conversation, Will was pretty much ignored and left as the observer in one corner of the room.

Sir Walter seemed to enjoy a good story and laughed at the coming and goings of people he knew in the village. To the boy, the knight appeared to be in his middle thirties, dressed in brown pants and a white tunic with a red cross embroidered in the centre of the garment. His uncut ginger hair flowed back over his head that was tied in a knot at the base of the neck. Occasionally, the knight would stroke his trimmed beard as his attentive auburn eyes waited for the blacksmith to tell the next part of a tale.

Will thought. ‘Perhaps not a handsome knight, but certainly one with presence and an engaging charm.’

After some time, the discussion stopped and attention was turned to the boy. Sir Walter already seemed to know who he was and expressed the hope that an arrangement could be worked out during the visit. At that point, the knight suggested both be shown to their quarters in order to recover from such a tiring journey. Father Berry led Gilmore off to a small room in the main building and then came back for Will. He took the boy out through the dining room and back kitchen, across the yard to the hayshed. In the loft, a number of mats were spread out for farm workers and the priest directed Will to use the one at the end. As the Abbot left the young lad to unpack his few belongings, Father Berry said he would come back later and show him around the monastery.

For my father the shock of his new surroundings were just beginning to sink in. This was not like the comforts of home. ‘The next couple of weeks,’ he observed. ‘Would be hard going… but, fortunately I can go home with the blacksmith… all I have to do is make the most of things and time will pass quickly.’

After an hour or so, Father Berry returned and said. ‘Follow me.’ The priest was a man of few words. However, he did manage to explain that the centre of all activities in the monastery focused around the chapel.

‘We have five priests and friars who live on the property. Mass commences every morning at 5 am sharp and devotions are held after each meal time and twice daily on Sunday. Everyone is expected to attend including the two knights who are our protectors.’

Tentatively, Will asked if the monastery was a dangerous place to live in.

‘At times we have problems with thieves and bandits. They usually hide in the Teviotdale Hills south of here and attack trade caravans that come from the English Midlands. If their raids are unsuccessful, sometimes the bandits will attack the settlements around here looking for food and wine.’

The priest could see the perplexed look on the boy’s face as he spoke.

‘However, this is not your concern. Sir William Sinclair, along with Sir Walter and Simon of Dalkeith are good defenders of the monastery. At any sign of trouble, the knights of Rosslyn Castle can also be called upon to protect us from these intruders.’

Somewhat irritated by this diversion, the priest redirected the conversation back to the monastery. ‘As you can see we have a meeting room, a kitchen and a large dining area. To the right are two study rooms, offices for the knights and a work cloister behind the chapel for our brothers to meditate and write religious works. On the other side of the chapel is an enclosed quadrangle with living quarters for our resident brethren and other travelling Templar knights who frequently come to the monastery.’

As the walk continued, Will was struck by the austere nature of the furnishings. Stone fireplaces and mantle pieces were only occasionally complimented with dark stained wooden chairs and tables. The coloured stained windows allowed some light into the rooms, although lighted candles were needed during the day to brighten the gloominess of the interior. Even the living quarters were only some eight feet by six feet and sparingly furnished with just a sleeping mat on the floor, a toilette bowl in the corner and a hanging cupboard for clothes and shoes. Everywhere, the smell of burnt candles pervaded the air as their flickering light played upon the white plaster walls and plain furnishings throughout the main building.

For the first time, the boy suddenly realised this was a man’s world he had now entered with not a woman’s touch in sight. Eventually, Will felt somewhat relieved as they emerged out into the yard at the back. However, Father Berry seemed to be a creature of the night and appeared annoyed by the sun interrupting his shadowy existence.

‘This part of the estate looks after the income we need in order to survive. The main crop is barley and raising cattle. Meat is sold to the towns people of Musselburgh and Portobello when needed. Over there are the blacksmith and machinery shops and beyond that the hay sheds and store rooms. Against the stone fence at the back are the horse stables and cow sheds,’ he said.

Intrigued by the mention of horses, Will looked around to see if he could spot any of the animals as the priest continued on. ‘We have a farm supervisor and half a dozen yard hands to do the work. They live in the loft and have an eating area in one of the storerooms. The only outsiders we employ are the cooks and cleaners that come in from Rosslyn village on a daily basis to provide our meals and laundry needs.’

Sensing the boy wanted to know more about where he fitted in, this rather distant and aloof Abbot finally came around to the concern at hand. ‘Unfortunately, the last squire Sir Walter hired died several months ago from dysentery. The knight spent the previous year training him for the position and the loss has been a great set back for Sir Walter. He now wants to make sure that the next squire is healthy enough, to at least care for the stable of horses here over the next two or three years. If you are suitable, this will be decided in the coming days.’

Will just nodded his understanding.

‘In the meantime, I have assigned you to cleaning duties in the chapel and assisting the cooks at meal time.’ Father Berry then readjusted his habit before returning to the main building.

Over the following week, the boy was left very much on his own devises. The other yard hands and kitchen assistants occasionally gave him directions, but generally paid little attention to the new helper. Every now and then, Will observed Gilmore working in the blacksmith shop, shoeing horses and having long conversations with Sir Walter. Eventually, one evening after cleaning the supper pots and plates, the boy was asked to join Sir Walter and Gilmore in the study. The blacksmith told Will they had both discussed the position of squire and thought he should be given the opportunity to undertake the apprenticeship.

Sir Walter said. ‘I have observed that you carry out your tasks without question and can take directions from others.’

‘I was brought up in a good family to do so, Sir,’ Will replied.

‘Yes I can see that,’ said the knight, ‘However, I am often away from the monastery for considerable periods of time and need someone that I can rely on to carry out my orders. This requires initiative and the ability to think ahead to all eventualities.’

Will was not sure of how to answer such a statement and looked at Gilmore for guidance.

The blacksmith said reassuringly. ‘These skills will come once you receive training from those here at the monastery… William… you are an intelligent lad and all you need is a positive attitude and a willingness to take up the challenge.’

The boy responded by saying that he was indeed interested, but Sir Walter detected a sense of reluctance still around the question of his length of service.

‘I know you are concerned about being away from home,’ said the knight. ‘Still, this decision would have been forced upon you sooner or later. And one that meant leaving Lanark to advance your career. The choice is yours and yours alone, but always remember, this life is hard and not for the faint hearted.’

In some way as the conversation progressed, Will sensed that both men were trying to find the best path for him. As they continued to talk, the lad came to realise that to stay at Balantradoch had more prospects than going back to work in the vegetable garden again. And besides, no other possibilities seemed to be on the horizon in Lanark either tomorrow or over the coming months. As the tension rose in the room for several minutes, Will finally drew in a large breath and whispered his decision to accept the apprenticeship.

Sir Walter seemed especially relieved as he said. ‘Will, try not to worry about seeing your family again soon. I am planning to visit Cumnock in a next few months and later next year. If our arrangement works out, then you can accompany me on those occasions and visit with your mother.’

The prospect of seeing Lanark again in the not so distant future, helped cheer him up and the atmosphere in the room became more relaxed. The lad could also see that Gilmore was clearly pleased with the outcome as Sir Walter outlined his plans. ‘To begin… you will work with the Sergeant at Arms here… Simon is from the neighbouring town of Dalkeith and has been part of Balantradoch for the past twenty years.’

Will wondered to himself who this knight might be that Sir Walter kept referring to.

‘He knows all the ropes around the place and has an expert knowledge of our stable of horses. After making satisfactory progress with the Sergeant, you will then come to me to learn more about how to be of service to a Templar knight. Your training is to commence next week, once Simon comes back from the cattle sales at Penicuik.’

As the boy lay on the straw mat in the loft that night, he was still not sure of what all this meant for the future. However, the prospect of being around real fighting knights did stir up a flutter of excitement in the stomach. And so, my father would spend the next few days learning how the monastery functioned from the other work hands that shared the loft in the hay shed. This sense of eager anticipation lasted only until he heard that Gilmore was about to return to Lanark. The blacksmith could sense the boy’s anxiety at losing his protector and attempted to reassure him about things ahead.

‘Look Will, this is probably the best opportunity you will have in life. A trade and good earning prospects for the future. Give yourself a chance and take it with both hands. And besides your mother and father will understand. You can tell them all about it when you visit soon.’

The last statement did encourage Will somewhat. ‘The weeks will go fast,’ he said to himself. ‘And I will be home again in no time.’

Then, before the blacksmith left the monastery, Will asked Gilmore about something that had been troubling him for a while.

‘I know this may sound strange… but, you said to me once… that a warrior’s life blood depends on him keeping his weapon in a safe place. What did you mean?’

As if anticipating the question, the blacksmith replied. ‘Will, in this age of uncertainty, staying alive is always difficult and often dangerous. Every person takes with them on their journey through life, something that helps them to be brave and secure. Sometimes it is a cross or a family heirloom. Yours is the slingshot. The pouch I have given you will help protect the very thing that is going to be of most value to yourself in times ahead.’

Seeing the rather distressed look upon the boy’s face, Gilmore tried to finish on a more positive note. ‘However, we should always look on the bright side and hope the weapon never has to be used in anger. So, keep the pouch by your side and just think of it as a trusty companion that you can always call on in times of trouble.’

With that said, the blacksmith embraced the lad and lovingly commented. ‘Now… grow up into a fine young man and may the grace of the Lord go with you for ever.’

The days ahead were indeed lonely for the boy. And as Will watched Gilmore ride alone back towards Lanark from his new home in the loft, the young lad did not know on that morning that this was the last time he would ever see the blacksmith again.

CHAPTER THREE

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A FTER FINISHING HIS MORNING chores, Father Berry sent the boy to the fields with the rest of the farm workers. This was back breaking work. Wagon tracks had to be repaired and new grazing fences erected. Pounding thicket posts into the hard ground hour after hour made Will very tired at night as he fell asleep from exhaustion soon after cleaning up at supper.

Then, one afternoon, while shovelling dirt on the main road to the monastery, a horse drawn wagon came into view. One of the yard hands looked up and said that Simon had returned. As the cart passed the workers, Will could see a thickly set middle aged man at the reins. Although he had a white tunic with a red cross emblazoned upon it, this knight appeared to be more like a farmer from all intents and purposes. Heavy overalls and a patched up shirt seemed to give the impression that he was more at home on the land than chasing roughens across the glens of the county side. Simon acknowledged the welcome of the workers and headed for the main buildings whilst leading a number of cattle and horses purchased from the recent sales.

At the evening dinner table, Will was introduced to Simon. The knight expressed his relief that a new trainee squire had been found and commented on the fact that since the death of the previous lad, the riding horses in the stables had become very neglected. Simon asked the boy a few questions about his knowledge of horses and said. ‘Be ready at dawn to start our work.’

Next morning the knight explained to Will why a strict routine needed to be established with riding horses. ‘They are different from farm horses,’ said Simon. ‘Farm animals know what is expected of them day in and day out. Routine will keep them going. However, the fighting horse is different.’

For the boy, he was now starting to learn something new and the prospect intrigued him. ‘The riding horse can go for weeks without travelling long distances or needing to be driven fast in the pursuit of bandits. However, these animals need to be kept at peek condition, so when they are called upon to perform, this can be done immediately. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ said Will, as he waited for further instructions.

‘The trick is to keep them exercised at all times. After early morning prayers and something to eat, your job will be to feed the seven horses in our keep and take them for a fast gallop. We have a track over the other side of the Esk River Glen. Here the horses can stretch themselves out to their limit and learn to overcome such obstacles as jumping farm fences. Once they complete each task, you will then bring them back through the glen trails. Each horse needs to be able to walk along the steep and narrow paths of a valley side while keeping a rider safely on board.’

The last comment in someway raised the young man’s interest as the knight continued. ‘Sir Walter often leads trading caravans to different parts of the country for Sir William Sinclair. And they often take back trails, so the horses must be able to negotiate inhospitable terrain at all times.’

The answer surprised Will somewhat. Why such talk of clandestine caravans all of a sudden? To date, the Knights Templar seemed just like any other religious order of monks. ‘Could there be something else to this place than meets the eye?’ he thought.

Will nearly asked the obvious question, when Simon’s body language indicated that this was perhaps a line of questioning not to follow for now. So, the boy just held his breath as the knight finished his instructions. ‘Once you have reached the bottom of the valley trails, you must take the animals down stream to where there is a natural pool in the river basin. Water and bathe the horses before bringing them back to the stables at sunset for their feed.’

‘Of course,’ said the older man. ‘We will do this together for some time until you feel confident about managing the horses by yourself. In the meantime, I will inform Father Berry that your services are needed elsewhere from now on.’

Over the coming weeks, Will and Simon followed the same daily routine. At first the horses were sluggish and showed their neglect from the past six months of inactivity. In response to this situation, the Sergeant at Arms decided to set out a new track in the fields that would bring them back to fitness more quickly. One that made the horses gallop first at full pace, then climb the hill slopes to strengthen their leg muscles and finally down the other side to check the riders balance at speed. Simon gave the boy the task of riding each animal during the morning sessions.

At the beginning, Will thought this would be fun until reality set in. A fighting horse was much more frisky and unpredictable than any farm animals he had known in Lanark. They frequently did as they wished, like going in different directions without letting the rider know their intentions. Often Will was thrown onto the muddy fields only to have the same thing happen again a few minutes later. Most evenings, he was left battered and bruised from such activities. This state of affairs seemed not to concern Simon at all. As Will eventually learnt to stay upright in the saddle, the knight showed him how to maintain greater control of a horse by using the reins and whip at his disposal.

‘You are the master. The horse needs direction. Be firm, but not cruel,’ Simon always repeated.

As time went by, the older knight eventually suggested to the boy that he leave the hayshed and sleep in the stable with the horses. ‘One of the crucial aspects of gaining the trust of fighting horses is knowing their strength and weaknesses… and you can only understand this aspect once you live with them,’ he said to the lad.

The shift to the stable also turned out to be a good move for Will. He felt responsibility for the horses at night and so gained a sense of pride at being left in charge. Although the boy did not realise it at the time, Simon had started testing his ability to make independent decisions and act accordingly.

During this time, Sir Walter and Simon made two journeys away from Balantradoch. Little was said of their destinations nor of what they were doing during the several weeks both remained away from the monastery. Will continued caring for the remaining horses left behind and other duties assigned to him by Father Berry. However, these times were not easy for my father. He often felt the priest used the occasions to force him to do extra work. And for whatever reason, Will started to believe that Father Berry had it in for him by gaining some sort of pleasure from making his life miserable.

The training sessions with the horses also proved to be eventful during this period. One afternoon while at the watering pool the horses became frightened. A strange quietness came over the glen as the shadows from the setting sun played their sinister way through the tree branches. Will had been warned that beggars and thieves often used the valley as a hiding place to steal horses if they could. The eerie silence finally spooked the horses and Will took some two hours to catch them before returning to the stables after dark.

At supper the boy told the others of his experience at saving the horses. Everyone agreed that he deserved praise for his efforts until Brother Fraser spoke up. ‘In fact you were probably lucky to escape with your very life I would think.’ Looking in his direction, Will listened rather nervously as the brother continued. ‘Don’t you know that part of the glen has a fearsome reputation for hiding the living dead. They are the ones who have sinned against the Church and cannot enter heaven. Instead, these ghosts are forced to wander the earth eating the flesh of beasts and men forever to survive. My feeling is that they were very close by and you just got out of the valley in the nick of time.’

The boy suddenly felt a deep sense of sickness rising in his stomach and stammered to make any response. The terrified look on his face made everyone in the room burst into laughter. Before Will could recover sufficiently, the joke had already taken effect and all he could do was return to the stables, humiliated. Even the knights on their return found the story amusing. And for days afterwards, he had to put up with the yard hands endlessly making howling noises behind his back, whenever, they passed by. Eventually, his wounded pride became less raw to the nerve and the boy brushed off the teasing as best he could.

Over these first few months at the monastery, Will’s relationship with Simon developed into one of grudging respect rather than genuine affection as had been the case with Gilmore. This somewhat indecisive and bumbling man really did seem uncomfortable in a knights realm. He often looked more at home on the training field and definitely someone you would not want to rely on in a crisis. Nevertheless, Simon’s quiet manner and ability to explain things simply had brought the best out in Will. And in doing so, the boy gained a good understanding of the fighting horse and how they must be trained for military service.

Only every now and then would the two have a serious discussion together and this remained so until the training period came to an end. And then the Sergeant at Arms had no choice but to inform the