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Brother Wilham de Juste (Squire)
"Greetings unto you servants of the most High One, the One who holds
my heart in His Hand! The night is as dark as the mourning in my
soul. Our Brothers in France and the Grandmaster of our order are
dead, murdered by a jealous and wicked King Phillip. Oh, my Lord
all is woe, all is lost! Is this the torment of the soul you
experienced in the Garden the night before you allowed your mortal
death? Is this my last night to suffer in this veil of tears? Is
this my Garden of suffering? On yon dawn will I soon see my battle
brethren in your golden halls? Lord, I would beg that you take this
cup from me if I did not know with all my heart that this in truth
is the cup I deserve. Here, I reap the foul harvest of my ...pain, thirst, and hunger are my lot. To me goes the scraps of the pig stye. Yet, the death I so much sought in France has eluded me these many days of flight. My head, in its fever, see the faire green hills of my mother Scotland! Oh the heather and the wind! Oh the sweet smell of the bire and the barn where my family lands do lie. Yea, my heart has hope for I hear that a few Brothers have found a sanctary in the Low Counties where the fair flowers grow. I write to you my Brethren to meet me on the feast day of St. Stephen the Martyr in the Towne where we dids't buy oats for our journey two years past. May you the servant of the Most High find peace and His peace I hope for always.
Greet the Day Good Brother! Deus Volts! But do it please you to join me and sundary other Brethren in our once lands known within our walls as Faires Lands Holdings? We gather there without habit to pray and fast for God's will and our jorney. Knight Brother Berold, Master of the Outlands Perceptory. Deus Volts!"
Report, Anno Societatis XLIV A report illuminated and scribed by his most Excellent Excellency’s most humble and un-named servant, the Chronicler of the Canton of Readstan. For the purposes of assessing taxes and tithes; In this year of Our Lord 1340, we beg to give notice of the owner and lord of a keep, as required. The Southernmost keep within the borders of the Canton of Readstan, in the Barony of Cearthe, on the King’s highway, on the side with the Mountains, is one of the fortified towers of that great house of Scotland, Clan Douglas. Within it dwells Lord Wilham de Juste. A poorly kept secret in that area is that Wilham is not his God given name. His God given name is William Lane Douglas the III. I say poorly because Wilham de Juste is Flemish for William the Just. Lord Wilham/William is a direct descendent through the Black Douglases, of that infamous Earl William of Douglas called the Bloody, and the Lane being a poor spelling job of his descent on his great grandmother’s side of clan Laing. Zealot fool that he is, according to the local priest, Lord Wilham has been known to wear his Templar habit and an old dented sword that he claims has killed infidels, despite the ban of that once sacred order these 28 years. He has been so bold as to wear it to Mass annually on October 13th and any other day that is a Friday and the 13th of the month. The local populace tolerates his eccentricities because of his good and faithful service in the wars of his liege Lord and as Seneschal of the Canton of Readstan. At least he loves God and is a daily communicant, if prone to temper and violence. His neighbors to the south, less popularly call him a “sheep stealer”, but never to his face! When confronted in the Towne square he did laugh and say that he and the Lords of Dragonspine do but gently pass back and forth the sheep in question, whose paternity he claims are in question. He had the audacity to claim that the sheep were the progeny of an Atenveldter! God’s teeth, does the man’s audacity know no limit? All that aside, I say herein your humble servant was rather well feted at his Lordship’s table. And I met his gracious and lovely wife, Milady Linda, of the Chamberlains of London. When asked by myself how a Templar had a wife, he reminded me sadly of the fact that the Poor Knights of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon were no more. When I pointed out that his oaths were forever, he threatened me with bodily harm! God’s beard, the glower and then the laugh! I think all of those old Crusaders are touched by the heat of the Holy Land. Lastly, as required I inspected the fortification and provisions for a siege. Both are in surprisingly good order. The only scandal worth mentioning is his Lordship’s insistence that all of his men-at-arms ride double. What on earth for? Lord Wilham de Juste, insisting on being noted as a Sergeant Brother of the Knights Templar, Of course now long gone, and the 6th squire of Viscount Sterling, and the Seneschal of your Excellency’s Canton of Readstan, and a husband, and a father of four, and a defender of those that need it, and a crusader, and… and … blah blah blah, and a braggart if you ask me. He holds the Towne of Lone Tree in Fee Simple from the Baron of Cearthe, having three large parks for the hunt and the sport, the Park Meadows Market, the intersection of the King’s Highway and the southern end of the Great Baronial Circle Road, and some 3,000 peoples, with sundry animals and fields as is proper, being an annual payment in gold of 1307 pieces, and in silver of 1307 pieces, (who knows why that number is soooo important to him) and a tithe of ten percent of same, and his lordship’s insistence that I note his inclusion of a pound of swine flesh, once again I suspect the heat of the desert sun. Below is my sketch of his fortified tower. Unto His most Excellent Excellency, Baron of Cearthe, do I, noted first above, your most humble of servants, and humble of scribes and illuminators, and, inspector, and counter of sheep, and most weary of feet, do herein subscribe with appropriate Jurat.
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©Delarosa Manor 2008 |
Fragments of letters found in the Abby of Sts. Peter and Paul,
Netherlands. They appear to be the letters of one Sergeant Brother
Wilham de Juste, Outlands Perceptory of the Knights Templar.
