Hanno for some reason, and was fussing around us pressing us to have a morsel of cheese and to make ourselves free with the ale cask. I had often noted Hanno’s predilection for alewives – fat, thin, tall, short, he loved all women who brewed ale. This was no mystery, for I don’t think I have ever met a man who was more fond of drinking ale. He cared nothing for wine or mead – ale was his drink, his liquid love, and he would touch no other.
As we drank deeply of the alewife’s powerful brew, I reflected that I had been foolish to have been so concerned about my lord. When we arrived at Kirkton that morning, after many miles of hard riding, Robin had laughed – laughed out loud when I told him about the Templars and their specially sanctioned heresy inquisition on St Polycarpus’s Day.
‘I know all about that, Alan. I received a letter from the Master of the Temple himself inviting me to come and meekly put my head into his noose. I wrote back respectfully declining his invitation and suggesting – very politely – that he ask the huskier novices to refrain from buggering him for a few moments to allow him time to shove this inquisition up his fundament.’
I was shocked. I knew that Robin was fearless but to insult the Master of the Temple in such a crude way, a senior member of the most respected knightly order in the world …
‘But have you not made it worse?’ I asked. ‘Will they not now come and attack you here, at Kirkton?’
‘How could I make it worse? They have declared war against me personally, they are seeking to have me burnt alive at the stake – and it is not because they are concerned about some silly conjuring tricks in a petty Yorkshire skirmish or about the state of my immortal soul. Think, Alan. You know what this is really about …’
I knew exactly to what he referred: frankincense – the extremely lucrative trade in this incense, burnt in every major church in Christendom every day. This most precious commodity originated in southern Arabia and its trade had been a significant source of revenue for the Knights Templar and their associates in Outremer – until Robin had persuaded the Arabian frankincense merchants – none too gently, it has to be said – to trade with him instead. Robin’s friend Reuben, a tough and clever Jew, had remained in Outremer when most of the rest of us had returned to England and he was responsible for continuing the commerce in frankincense, acting on Robin’s behalf. And what lucrative trade! The little whitish-yellow crystals of frankincense, bought for pennies in the land of Al-Yaman at the foot of the Arabian peninsula, were worth more than their weight in gold in Europe. Reuben bought large quantities from the traders in Gaza for a modest amount of silver, and shipped the precious crumbs to Sicily where another of Robin’s confederates sold them on to Italy and the rest of Europe.
I did not know the full details of the trade, but I had seen its results. When we had arrived at Dover several months ago, we had been raggedy, seasick and exhausted, but also very, very rich. We had carried with us on our long journey home – in conditions of strictest secrecy, of course – several large chests of silver, thousands of pounds’ worth, which were now lodged in Robin’s strongly built counting house in the bailey of Kirkton Castle. And that was not the full extent of Robin’s fortune. Since we had returned from the East, two more shipments of silver had arrived at Kirkton with the compliments of Reuben and a letter assuring his friend that all was well in Gaza and that commerce was booming. The frankincense trade had made Robin a wealthy man and would continue to enrich him – unless the Master of the Knights Templar and His Holiness the Pope had their way.
This is what Robin was alluding to when he said that the Templars were not truly concerned with the state of his soul. They wanted to unseat him from his golden frankincense throne and recover the trade for themselves; doubtless His Holiness had been promised a fat slice of the pie as well.
‘It is just an opening move in a long, complicated game,’ Robin said. ‘They think I am vulnerable to their threats of excommunication. I am not; I care