00 - Templar's Acre (57 page)

‘The Sultan?’

‘No. He was doing what he had to. No, I meant Roger Flor, taking the ship and all the women. I’d bet he took all their money, too. I wonder what happened to that bastard. Where has
he gone?’

Roger Flor at that moment was sitting in a tavern.

Cyprus was an island he appreciated, and rarely more than now. He had a purse full of money, he had a ship, and he had enjoyed the affections of three ladies on the journey here. A man needed
such diversions.

‘So, do we sail for France?’ Bernat asked.

‘France . . . Yes, we could,’ Roger Flor said pensively.

‘We could go to the Temple. We do have a ship.’

‘Oh yes, we have a ship,’ Roger Flor agreed, and poured himself more wine. ‘We have a ship, and the ability to sail anywhere. Now that the Muslims have control of all the ports
and harbours off the Holy Land, there are ships full of valuables sailing from Cairo each and every day . . .’

‘You want to turn pirate?’

‘No. I want to turn
rich.’

Bernat stared, and gradually a smile broke out over his features. ‘I’m in too.’

Roger Flor grinned back and passed a cup to him, filling it.

‘A toast,’ Roger Flor said. ‘To the men of the Temple. They can survive in future without my aid.’