Knightfall (2017–…): Season 2, Episode 2 - The Devil Inside - full transcript

Landry continues his training in the Knights Templar Order under the harsh guidance of Talus, the battle-hardened Initiate master; DeNogaret implores King Philip to build a legal case against the Knights.

They attacked me.

The Templars took up
arms against my army.

The Paris Temple fell because of you.

I will not see the same happen here!

Landry is welcome back into our
sacred Order as an Initiate.

You disobeyed my direct order.

I came to offer you renewed purpose.

I'm not the greatest swordsman in Paris.

The greatest swordsman in all of France.

Pope Boniface is coming to Paris.

Louis!



Where's mother?

Why would he cut her open like this?

To remove the child.

The baby is alive.

Mama! Papa!

Have faith, my love!

Come back here, you little bastard!

No!

Mama! Papa!

Holy Father,
Thou just God of all good souls.

They are prepared, Father Benedetto.

Do you hear it, brothers and sisters?

These Cathars claim to be Christians,

yet even now, at their final judgment,



they choose to worship their false gods!

No! Mercy!

Please! I beg mercy!

Open your ears, boy!

They spurn mercy by refusing to repent.

Outside the church,
there can be no mercy or salvation.

Only punishment.

Now witness the eternal hellfire

to which God's infallible justice

condemns the souls of
these Cathar Heretics!

Mama!

Let us pray.

Mater noster, qui es in coelis,
sanctificatur nomen tuum...

Adveniat regnum tuum,

fiat voluntas tua,
sicut in caelo, et in Terra.

Mama!

S02E02
The Devil Inside

This is the worst stew I've ever had.

We eat for sustenance,
not pleasure, Quentin.

Pleasure?

Yeah, I think I remember her.

Lips as red as cherries.

Yeah, she was a peach.

What a "pear."

Remember, Initiates,

you are permitted seven chews per bite.

One each for the seven
gifts of the Holy Spirit...

Wisdom, understanding, counsel,

fortitude, knowledge,

piety, and awe.

Not gluttony!

Understood?

Yes, Master Talus, sir.

You should count your blessings.

When I first became a Templar,

you were only allowed
three chews and a swallow.

He reminds me of my father.

Mean as the devil, miserable prick.

I envy you, Quentin.

At least you knew your father.

Mine simply...
supplied the seed and wandered off.

Hold your envy.

You see, I'm the eldest son
of Baron Conon De Brienne,

a Knight of Ponthieu,

famous thereabout for making war

upon his neighbors while
they were off on crusade.

One of those neighbors,
Anselm De Charny,

returned home with a small army,

took me hostage,

and laid siege to my father's castle.

Under a white flag of truce,

De Charny approached the curtain wall,

held a sword to my neck,

and demanded my father's surrender,

in exchange for my life.

And my father emerged on the ramparts,

grabbed his crotch,
and yelled,

"Go ahead and slit the
little bugger's throat."

Nah,
still be better to raised by a bastard

than to be one, right?

Landry's right about that.

Ah? You, too, Kelton?

Yeah.

I was born a bastard,
and I'll die a bastard.

Well,
best to live life as a holy bastard, eh?

And what about you, Rhone?

Did someone try and kill you as a child?

That's why you're always praying?

No.

Not me.

I just did eight chews.

Seven chews.

No more. No less.

Landry.

I grant you the honor of cleaning up

after this brazen young fool.

You will do no such thing.

Do not presume to tell me

what I can and cannot do, boy.

Why are you here?

To mourn, of course.

And I have not been a boy
for a very long time, Father.

Yes, of course.

You loved her.

You should mourn her, my son.

As is right and proper.

And yet she betrayed you.

She betrayed all of us.

Yet she was still my mother,
and your wife.

The Queen of France.

The people still love her.

They know nothing of her impropriety.

They think she died trying
to bear you yet another heir.

You must allow her a
proper royal funeral.

I would sooner swear fealty
to the Mamluk Sultan.

There will be no funeral.

You failed!

No meals for the next two days!

The task is impossible!

The wall cannot be climbed in the rain!

Your turn!

Landry will fail, just like the others.

Ah!

Give thanks unto God,

for when he rains on us,
he rains on our enemies as well!

Now, look to Psalm 133 for guidance...

And climb that fucking wall!

You're a former Temple Master...
What's the trick?

Uh,
this trial wasn't part of my initiation.

I've never done it before.

What about Psalm 133?

What of it?

"Behold how good and pleasant it is

when brothers dwell together in unity."

Well, what are you waiting for...

Your balls to drop?!

Climb that wall, you pissant slugs!

Aah!

Aah!

Ohh. It's no use.

The stone is too slippery.

Say, Master High and Mighty,
what are you waiting for?

"When brothers dwell together in unity."

This trial is about brotherhood.

Teamwork.

What are you on about?

How the hell do we get to
the top without a rope?

Or a ladder?

We become the ladder.

Quentin, you brace yourself next to me.

He's lost his mind.

Each man climbs on the
shoulders of the next

until they reach the top,

then help pull their brothers up.

Ready?

I can't reach!

We need another man!

Climb. Be quick about it.

You sure?

No. But do it anyway.

Okay.

Come on!

Go!

Aah!

Quentin!

Quentin!

Quentin!

Sorry.

Got my bell rung.

Quentin, get up before my back breaks.

Master Talus, I request permission

to lower a rope and
help my brothers climb,

as they helped me!

Permission granted.

Progress, De Nogaret?

The hunt for Landry Du Lauzon closes in,
my liege.

It is only a matter of time
before his head is delivered

to the palace.

Care to wager on that?

If you lose, I'll be sure your
head's delivered in its place.

No doubt the Templars are
congratulating themselves

on having crept in like
thieves in the night

to steal away with their
secret cache of gold.

And yet they still
left you in possession

of their most valuable treasure of all,
my liege.

The Paris Temple itself.

It's yours, Louis.

Use it to launch a campaign
against the Templars.

Oh.

Sincere thanks for such a splendid gift,
Father.

From here, I will see to the complete

and utter destruction
of the Knights Templar

throughout all of France,

and forfeiture of their wealth
and property to the Crown.

I fully concur with these brilliant

and glorious objectives.

Yet I would be remiss in my duties

if I did not respectfully
ask Your Majesty to wait.

Wait for what?

For me to build an ironclad legal case

against the Templars on charges
of heresy and blasphemy.

These so-called "Soldiers of God"

still have the full support
of the pope and his church.

Their numbers are legion
throughout all of Europe.

And, sad as it is to say,

they are still widely
revered right here in France.

To move against them
without absolute proof

of their crimes will cause problems.

But I believe I have the solution.

Spit it out, De Nogaret.

Who better to detail the grievous crimes

of the Templars than a
former Templar himself?

See that it's done quickly.

Now leave us.

Of course, Your Majesty.

Your Grace.

To hell with De Nogaret and his schemes,
father.

Let me track down Landry.

I will make him suffer like
no man has ever suffered

for what he has done to our family.

No,
I have an even more vital task for you,

which no one else can be trusted with.

The Book of Isaiah tells us,

"The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,

and a child shall lead them."

Gather your wolves, my son.

There is prey to be hunted.

Hey, Rhone.

Rhone. Rhone!

You must commit those prayers to memory

and get rid of that thing
before it gets you into trouble.

But it was, um... It was a gift.

From my mother.

It doesn't matter if it was
from Master Talus himself.

Once you embrace the life of a Templar,

you must strip yourself of
all worldly possessions.

Past or otherwise.

Well, my mother, she, um...

She told me that if I
recite these prayers

each day for a year,

it'll add up to the exact
same number of blows

that Christ endured
before his Crucifixion.

She said that this would prevent me

from dying an unnatural death.

Rhone,
as much as I love Christ our Savior,

when it comes to preventing me
from dying an unnatural death,

I'll choose a sword over
a prayer every time.

Look,
I don't know about the rest of you,

but I joined the Temple in
order to master the sword

and earn the title of Soldier of God,

not to fetch rocks like a mule

or count the chews on a crust of slop

or climb the walls like a squirrel.

It isn't about the wall

or the food or the rocks.

It's about discipline,
obedience, humility.

Following orders that you
think might mean nothing

without hesitation,

so that when orders
come when arrows fall

and hooves trample and blood flows,

you will do the same.

Without hesitation.

Trust me, Rhone.

Get rid of that thing.

You wanted to see me, Father.

You're burning Mother's clothes?

Your mother tears me
apart from the grave.

I wanted to tell you that the plans

for your marriage to
Edward have been finalized.

You will be wed soon

and begin your new life as his queen.

Mother would not have approved

of you sending me across the sea

to marry a notorious sodomite.

Your mother is dead.

And even while yet she lived,

it was I who made the
decisions about your future.

You will be Queen of England,

as your brother will be King of France.

I will have peace with England,

and you shall have a
husband and a crown.

That should be more than
enough to make you happy.

Thank you, Father.

Come.

Forgive me, Your Majesty.

Your Grace.

What now, De Nogaret?

Have you a head to deliver?

Only the head of the Catholic Church.

Pope Boniface has arrived in Paris

to pay his respects to
the late Queen Joan.

And to see you squirm.

The Bishop of Rome,
His Holiness, Pope Boniface.

Your Holiness.

Philip.

I know that the two of us have
had our differences of late.

You did, after all,
launch an attack on the Templars,

the most devoted of my Holy Knights.

But we must lay aside discord
on such a weighty occasion

and allow distrust to be
replaced by fellowship.

Allow me to offer my sincere condolences

on the untimely death of
our beloved Queen Joan.

To lose such a beautiful
and loving woman

must have been a terrible blow for you,

as it is to all of France.

Thank you, Your Holiness.

She was a... remarkable woman.

But enough of platitudes.

It has come to my attention
that Your Holiness

will soon issue a Papal Bull
concerning the relationship

between secular and spiritual authority.

As a good Christian,
I wish to know more.

I appreciate your interest
in this matter, Your Majesty,

but now is hardly the time nor the place

for such a discussion.

You're in the throne room

of the most Christian King of France.

Is there a better time or place?

Very well.

I will boil it down so that
even an ungodly sycophant

like your Minister De
Nogaret can comprehend.

As the Apostle said,
"There is no power but of God,

and the powers that be
are ordained of God."

And who is to speak for God, if not I,

His Vicar on Earth?

And so I declared that submission

on the part of every man,

be he serf or Royal Counselor or king...

Submission to the Bishop of Rome

is absolutely necessary
for his salvation.

To put it simply,

submit or be damned.

Initiates, assemble!

Each of you chose to give
up your worldly possessions

and turn your backs on who you were

before you entered our sacred house,
did you not?

Yes, Initiate Master.

Yet it appears one of you
has chosen differently.

Isn't that right, Initiate Rhone?

Strip!

Hmm...

But before we deal with this,

we must first reward the
source of this revelation.

Initiate Michael.

Get out of my sight.

What?

The Temple is no place for those

who would betray their brothers.

But, Master Talus...

Leave this Temple before
I beat you to death.

Hmm...

Master Talus,
it isn't Rhone's prayer scroll.

It's mine.

I hid it in his clothes
to escape punishment.

Do you take me for a fool, Landry?

No, sir.

I salute your attempt to spare Rhone

from my righteous wrath.

So instead of punishing him...

I'm punishing you all!

Strength training with sacks of rock

from now until sunset.

Landry, Rhone, Quentin, Kelton, Vasant.

Not you.

I have a different challenge
for you worthless pig-humpers.

Go into the forest, find a tree

suitable for our log physical training,

cut it down, debark it,

and bring it back here...

on foot.

Master Talus,
it'll be night before we get back.

So it will.

You best take care not to chop off

each other's fingers
and toes in the dark.

The Baptismal Rolls, Your Grace?

I would have the most recent.

Every infant birth recorded
in the past three months.

Here you are.

Names, dates of baptism,

and places of residence for Paris

and the surrounding townships.

Excellent. And the others.

A...donation for the Cathedral.

With the greatest respect, Your Grace,

you cannot take those scrolls.

They are the only proof
those little Lambs of God

have undergone the
Sacrament of Holy Baptism,

thereby guaranteeing
them entry into heaven.

Furthermore, they are church property,

which even your father,
the king, has no claim over.

I was baptized.

Does that guarantee
me entry into heaven?

It does, Your Grace,

unless you commit a mortal sin,

in which case, you must,
of course, repent

and confess to gain absolution.

Of course.

But, uh, I won't be sinning today.

They will.

Nothing good happens
in the woods after dark.

They're filled with wolves,
boars, and bats.

Oh,
bats are the devil's familiars.

Witches use their blood to fly.

Seen lots of flying witches,
have you, brother?

I have it on good authority.

Bats aren't all bad.

My uncle says if you wash your hair

with powdered bat wings,
you'll never go bald.

Well, it's a bit too late for you,

isn't it, Vasant, you poor bastard?

This one.

Perfect.
We can take it down this ridge here.

Come on then, baldy.

Hello, Anne.

Mother Superior told me
you were still working.

Is that the new Bible?

- Aye.
- Mm.

Brother Angus'
handiwork of the past six years.

We will make a generous
donation to the convent

if you apply your
talents to this Good Book

and, uh, illuminate the manuscript.

I'd almost forgotten.

What?

How your eyes appear by candlelight.

It's like they're filled with fire.

Thank you, Tancrede.

I will begin work on it next week.

How is she?

Well, why not come see for yourself?

The wet nurse feeds her
three or four times a day.

The rest of the time, she mostly sleeps.

But I do take you out
on the grass once a day

to bathe in Our Lord's sunshine,
didn't I?

Ohh.

She almost never cries.

She takes after her father.

Hullo, Eve.

Whoa.

Hullo.

Hullo.

Hullo. How are we?

Do you hear that?

I didn't hear anything.

Shh, shh, shh!

Take the axes and the saw.

Douse your torches.

Follow me.

Dies irae,
dies Illa Solvet Saeclum.

Teste Satan cum Sibylla.

Quantos tremor est futurus,

Quando Vindex est venturus

Cuncta stricted discussurus.

Dies irae, dies Illa!

Veni,
omnipotens aeterne diabolus!

Luciferians.

Solvet Saeclum in favilla.

Teste Satan cum Sibylla.

Quantos tremor est futurus.

Veni,
omnipotens aeterne diabolus!

Trinity formation!

Aah!

Vasant, hold formation!

Help me, Rhone!

Quentin, Quentin.

Landry, help me! Quickly!

Over here! Help me!

Quentin! Quentin!

Stay with us, lad.

Come on. We need to go.

Back to the Temple. Come on!

Come on! Move!

Over there!

The woods!

I think I see them.

Somebody help!

Draper!

Bring me Draper!

Help us!

Somebody. Help us!

Save him, Draper.

Draper, please.

Please save him.

I can't.

Quentin's dead.

I'm sorry, Landry.

What happened?

We were attacked from the forest.

By Luciferians.

Devil worshipers.

Landry brought this upon us.

He's cursed.
He's brought the devil into our house!

Enough, Berenger!

Draper,
take an escort of Brother Knights

into the woods and send a rider back

as soon as you discover the location

of these Satan-worshipping heathens.

Yes, Grandmaster.

Bring him inside.

This is your doing, Landry.

Yours alone.

Give me a horse!

Give me a fucking horse!

Where do you think you're going?

I'm joining the scouting party.

You've done enough already.

But I'm the one who knows
their last location.

And I didn't break formation.

I held fast,
and I fought alongside my brothers.

And yet you still failed.

Quentin died out there, Landry.

On your watch.

Now you think if you go kill
some goat-faced heretics,

it'll make you feel better
about losing that boy.

But this is a task for Templars,

and you're not a Templar anymore.

You're an Initiate.

And I don't give a shit how you feel!

Hyah-hyah!

The Luciferians are said to
dwell within these woods.

Hyah!

Strip the bodies.

We could not
drive you out of our Temple.

So we'll burn the devil out of yours.

We drive you from us, unclean spirit,

satanic power, infernal invader.

May you be snatched away

and driven from the soul of this man,

Landry Du Lauzon,

made in the image of God

and redeemed by the blood of
our Blessed Lord and Savior,

Jesus Christ.

God the Father commands you.

God the Son commands you.

God the Holy Spirit commands you.

Landry?

Who did this to you?

I did it to myself.

Don't lie to me, brother.

Who committed this vile act?

There is no place in the Temple

for a man who would betray his brothers.

Alt! Chi Va Li?

Aah!

De Nogaret?

How in our Lord's Holy Name
did you get past my guards?

Capitano!

Capitano Malatesta!

No one will be coming to your
aid tonight, Your Holiness.

Surely, good King Philip can't condone

any harm befalling the Holy Father?

You told him to submit or be damned.

How did you think he would react?

Did you think he would
fall down on bended knee

and kiss your ring himself?

He misunderstood.

I meant that only with
regards to spiritual matters,

such as sacrament and liturgy.

Oh.

Well, what about matters of heresy,

torture,

and... execution?

Each time you visited Paris,

I hoped that somehow
you would recognize me.

Do you recall the town of
Saint-Félix-de-Caraman,

in the Occitan?

Do you remember a
Cathar husband and wife,

Antoine Gauthier and Florence De Béarn?

You lit the fire yourself...

The fire that burned them alive.

Don't you remember that,
Father Benedetto?

Mama! Papa!

I, uh...

I was just a child.

I went to church.

I prayed to the Lord.

I believed in everything the Bible

and men like you taught me.

And then you took it all away.

I tried to keep the faith.

I tried to keep believing that somehow,
some way,

I would come to understand
how a just and merciful God

could allow men such as you to inflict

such unjust suffering in His name.

But when you're ripped
from your mother's arms...

and made to watch her flesh sizzle

and... burn like... a pig on a spit,

all that is left to
believe in is the vagary

and brutality of life itself.

No God, no devil,

no heaven nor hell...

Other than the one wretched
men like you create.

After you killed them,
I was alone in the world,

living in the gutter,

fighting vermin for crumbs of bread.

Then my uncle found
me and taught me Latin

and the law for one purpose only...

So that I might free as much
of this world as possible

from false prophets such as you.

I believe...

I do remember your mother and father,
De Nogaret.

They were heretics and blasphemers,

and they deserved their fate.

What right have you to
judge me or my actions?

I am St. Peter's successor,

the Holy Father of the One True Church,

and you are just an errand
boy for a petty tyrant

who doesn't know his place in
the proper order of things.

Tell me, does His Majesty the King know

that you harbor such pagan thoughts?

Oh. Oh, no, no, of course not,

because if he did,
he'd have you flayed alive.

You can't even share with
your master your true beliefs.

No, I pity you, De Nogaret!

I pity you!

Aah!

I know you.

You're a Templar, a Soldier of God!

Defend me!

I was a Templar.

Not anymore.

King Philip demands
you vacate the Holy See

to make room for a more
blessed and reasonable pontiff.

But the means of your removal...

Well, he left that up to me.

You will be pleased to know
that after you are dead,

your earthly remains
will be bound together

with that of heretics.

What's that?

You beg for mercy?

Open your ears, old man!

You spurn mercy by refusing to repent!

The Pope is dead.

Long live the Pope.