Knight of the Realm; Sebastian (of) Gloucester
Knight of the Thorn; Thomas Childe

We stand the border wall. We guard the long seas between the stars.
Ours is the long watch, the vigilant eye.
We bear the shield to be struck. We raise the sword to strike.
For Bretonia, Carina Regina, and Saint George.

The Way of Life of the Knights Templar

First, Christ's knights have discipline and never disdain obedience, for as Scripture attests, the undisciplined son will perish, 'restiveness is as the sin of witchcraft and refusal to acquiesce is like the crime of idolatry.' They come and go at the will of their superior, wear what he has given them, and take clothing and nourishment from nowhere else. They are wary of all excesses in food and dress; they concern themselves only with necessities. They have a joyous and sober life in their community, without women and without children.

That they might lack no evangelical perfection, they live without private property, in one house, in one way, eager to safeguard spiritual oneness within the bounds of their peace. You could say that all their multitude has but one heart and one spirit, to such an extent does each of them strive, not to fulfill his private desires, but rather to obey his master. At no time do they sit at leisure or wander adventurously; rather on those rare occasions when they are not engaged, they repair the wear and tear that their clothes and armor have suffered, bring things to order, and generally see to whatever their master's will and communal necessity dictate, in order to earn their keep.

Rank is not recognized among them at all; pride of place is alotted better, not nobler men. They rival one another in honor; they bear one another's burdens, so fulfilling Christ's injunction. The insolent word, the profitless deed, improvident laughter, even the least murmur or whisper does not go unrepaired when perceived properly. They swear off dice and gaming; they detest hunting, and take no pleasure in the absurd cruelty of falconry, as it is practiced. They renounce and abominate mimes and magicians and romanciers, bawdy songs and the spectacle of the joust as vanity and dangerous folly. They keep their hair short, having learned from the Apostle that it is shameful for a man to wear his hair like a woman. Never do they set and rarely do they wash their hair, preferring to go about dishevelled and unkempt, covered in dust and blackened by the sun and their armor.

When battle is at hand, they arm themselves with faith within and steel without, rather than with gold, so that when armed, rather than prettified, they instill fear in their adversaries rather than incite their greed. They choose to have horses that are strong and quick, rather than showy or well-dressed. They attend to battle rather than display, to victory rather than glory, and concern themselves to inspire fear rather than wonder. They are not unstable or impetuous, and do not behave as if driven headlong by heedlessness; rather, they order themselves and dispose their forces for battle considerately and with every caution and provision, as we read that the Fathers did. True Israelites go forth to war at peace. But when they have come to the point of battle, it is as if they say: 'Should I not hate those who hate you, Lord, and be disgusted with your enemies?'; they fling themselves against their foes and treat their adversaries like sheep, ever fearless alike, however few in number they may be, of barbarous savagery and the numberless horde.

Moreover, they know better than to presume upon their own strength, and prefer to hope for victory through the virtue of the Lord of Sabaoth, for whom they believe it to be a simple thing, as the sentence of Maccabees states: 'Many can be closed in the hands of a few, and in the sight of heaven's God there is no difference between bringing freedom by means of many and few, for victory in battle comes not of a multitude of armies, and might is cue gift of heaven.' They have in fact experienced this quite often, that a single one of them can hunt down practically a thousand and two can put ten thousand to flight.

Finally, then, they are both gentler than lambs and fiercer than lions, in such a wonderful and peculiar way that I am very nearly incapable of deciding what I think they should rather be called, monks or knights, unless I should perhaps more appropriately name them both, since they apparently lack neither, neither the monk's gentle disposition nor the knight's fierce strength.