Jack Whyte - Order in Chaos

Praise for the Templar Trilogy

To read Jack Whyte is to surrender to a storyteller of the old school. His writing is firmly rooted in the basics of good storytelling: strong characterization, effective plotting, and excellent writing.

Quill & Quire

Whyte, a master at painting pictures on an epic-sized canvas, pulls the reader into the story with his usual deft combination of historical drama and old-fashioned adventure.

Booklist

It is here that the origin of the Knights Templar is revealed Taut and gripping.

The Vancouver Sun

Enough loose ends and cliff-hanging dramatic turns to guarantee an audience for volume two.

The Globe and Mail

Whytes Templar Trilogy finds the author in his top form. Few authors can match Whyte when it comes to epic battle scenes involving blazing heat, choking dust, rearing horses, and thousands of sword-wielding knights and Saracens locked in mortal combat.

Publishers Weekly

[Standard of Honors] quick rise to the upper reaches of the bestseller list, not to mention signs of strong word of mouth, suggest that Whytes star is rising even higher.

Quill & Quire

Whyte brings his Templar Trilogy to a rousing conclusion Readers are in for a thrilling, exhilarating ride. Theres a reason why Whytes historical novels are so popular: he adroitly juggles fact and fiction, using real events as a jumping-off point for stories that feel historically right. Fans of the previous two novels who have been clamoring for this one since 2007 will not be disappointed.

Booklist

ORDER IN

CHAOS

JACK WHYTE

To my wife, Beverley, mentor and care giver, who knows, invariably, when to leave me alone and when to haul me out of my hermitage and back into the light of lifeThank you yet again.

I will give them into the hands of their enemies and I will make [them] a desolation.

Jeremiah 34:1922

FRANCE

THE WOMAN AT THE GATES

ONE

Even a man with no eyes could have seen that something was wrong up ahead, and Tam Sinclairs eyes were perfect. His patience, however, was less so. The afternoon light was settling into dusk, and Tam was reduced to immobility after three days of hard traveling and within a half mile of his goal. The reins of his tired team now hung useless in his hands as a growing crowd of people backed up ahead of him, blocking his way and crowding close to his horses, making them snort and stomp and toss their heads nervously. Tam felt himself growing angry at the press around him. He did not like being among large numbers of people at the best of times, but when they were compressed together in a solid crowd, as they were now, the stink of their unwashed bodies deprived him of even the simple pleasure of taking a deep breath.

Ewan!

Aye! One of the two young men who had been lounging and talking to each other among the covered shapes of the wagons cargo pulled himself upright to where he could lean easily with braced arms on the high drivers bench. Whoa! Whats happening? Where did all these people come from all of a sudden?

If I knew that, I wouldnt have had to interrupt your debate wi your young friend. Tam glanced sideways at the other man, quirking his mouth, almost concealed by his grizzled beard, into what might have been a grin or a grimace of distaste. Go up there to the gates and find out whats going on and how long were to be stuck here. Maybe somebodys had a fit or dropped dead. If thats the case, Ill thank you to find us another gate close enough to reach afore curfew. My arse is sore and full o splinters from this damned seat and Im pining to hear the noisy clatter as we tip this load o rusty rubbish into the smelters yard. And be quick. I dont want to be sleepin outside these walls this night. Away wi ye now.

Right. Young Ewan placed a hand on the high side of the wagon and vaulted over it, dropping effortlessly to the cobbled roadway and pushing his way quickly into the crowd. La Rochelle was Frances greatest and busiest port, and the high, narrow gates of its southern entrance, directly ahead of him, were fronted by this wide approach that narrowed rapidly as it neared the check points manned by the city guards.

Tam watched the boy go and then swung himself down after him, albeit not quite so lithely. The wagon driver was a strong-looking man, still in the prime of life, but the ability to do everything his apprentices could do physically was something he had abandoned gladly years before. Glancing intolerantly now at the people closest to him, he made his way to a small oaken barrel securely fastened with hempen rope to the side of the wagon. He took the hanging dipper and raised the barrels loose-fitting lid, then brought the brimming ladle of cool water to his lips and held it there as he looked about him, seeing nothing out of place or anything that might explain the blockage ahead. He did notice a heavy presence of guards with crossbows lining the walkways above and on each side of the high gates, but none of them appeared to be particularly interested in anything happening below.

In the meantime, young Ewan had moved forward aggressively, anonymous among the crowd. He was soon aware that he was not the only one trying to find out what was happening, and as he drew closer to the gates he found it increasingly difficult to penetrate the noisy, neck-craning throng. He was eventually forced to use his wide shoulders to clear a passage for himself, elbowing his way single-mindedly towards the front, ignoring the deafening babble of shouting voices all around him. He was almost thereif he stood on his toes he could see the crested helmet of the Corporal of the Guardwhen he became aware of louder, shriller voices directly ahead. Three men came charging towards him, plowing through the crowd, pulling at people as they went, pushing and shoving and trying to run, wide eyed with fear. One of them shouldered Ewan aside as he surged by, but the young man regained his balance easily and swung around to watch the three of them scrambling into the throng behind him, dodging and weaving as they sought to lose themselves among the crush.

The crowd, like a living thing sensing the terror of the fleeing men, pulled itself away from them quickly, people pushing and pulling at their neighbors as they fought to keep clear of the fugitives, and in so doing exposing them to the guards in front of and on top of the gate towers.

The Corporal of the Guards single shout, ordering the fleeing men to halt, went unheeded, and almost before the word had left his lips the first crossbow bolt struck the cobblestones with a clanging impact that stunned the crowd into instant silence. Shot from high above the gates, and too hastily loosed, the steel projectile caromed off the worn cobblestone and was deflected upwards, hammering its point through the wooden water barrel from which Tam Sinclair was drinking, shattering the staves and drenching the man in a deluge of cold water that soaked his breeches and splashed loudly on the cobbles at his feet.

Cursing, Tam dropped down onto the wet stones, landing on all fours and rolling sideways to safety under the wagons bed as the air filled with the bowelloosening hiss and sickening thud of crossbow bolts. His other apprentice, Hamish, jumped from the wagon bed and dived behind the protection of a wheel hub, fighting off others who sought the same shelter.

None of the three fleeing men survived for long. The first was brought down by three bolts, all of which hit him at the same time, in the shoulder, the neck, and the right knee. He went flying and whirling like a touring mummer, blood arcing high above him from a jagged rip in his neck and raining back down and around him as he fell sprawling less than ten paces from where he had begun his flight. The second stopped running, almost in mid-stride, teetering for balance with windmilling arms, and turned back to face the city gates, raising his hands high above his head in surrender. For the space of a single heartbeat he stood there, and then a crossbow bolt smashed through his sternum, the meaty impact driving him backwards, his feet clear off the ground, to land hard on his backside before his lifeless body toppled over onto its side.