Keeper of the Grail

by Michael P. Spradlin

  “Don’t worry, Sir Hugh,” I said. “There is still plenty of time for you to escape before the fighting starts.”

  Sir Hugh roared again, dragging me across the floor of the jail, then shoving me into the cell next to Robard. He glared at me and then straightened himself.

  “Of course,” he said to the newly arrived man. He pointed at the other two guards in the room. “Two of you stay here at all times. No one is to visit either of them. No one even enters this building without my orders. Understood?”

  With a backward glance at me, Sir Hugh turned. “I’ll return, squire,” he hissed. “And when I do, I think you will tell me everything I want to know.”

  With that Sir Hugh and his men departed, leaving just the two guards for Robard and myself. I had no idea how to get us out of this mess.

  To say Robard was in a state does not do justice to his mood. He paced back and forth in his cell like a caged beast, muttering and cursing. Finally he was quiet as he stared first at me, then at the men-at-arms sitting across the room.

  “Care to explain?” he asked in a low voice.

  I gave Robard a brief accounting of my history with Sir Hugh. “What I don’t understand is how he escaped from Acre. The city was surrounded and overrun. The knights were making a last stand at the Crusaders’ Palace,” I said. I told Robard nothing of what Sir Hugh had offered to tell me. No need to complicate things. Besides, I was sure he was lying anyway.

  “Well, I have to tell you, I did not count on landing in a jail when I met up with you in the woods. I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit,” he said. He was angry. I held out my hands, waving them down, nodding toward the guards, who sat on a bench against the far wall. They looked bored and disinterested, but I had no doubt they’d been instructed by Sir Hugh to listen carefully to any conversation that passed between us.

  “Robard, I am sorry you are caught up in this,” I said. “I never expected to find Sir Hugh here alive. If the Templars perished defending Acre, he should be dead. Yet here he is. He must have found a way to sneak out of the city or else he took the same route I did.”

  But I knew why Sir Hugh was here. He wanted the Grail, plain and simple. What I could not figure out yet was how he knew I had it. Sir Thomas said only a few of the knights in the entire Order even knew of the Grail. He was one of the few, and I could not imagine him sharing that knowledge with Sir Hugh, whom he held in such low regard. Unless Sir Hugh knew of the Grail’s existence before Sir Thomas did. Or had learned of its existence some other way and that Sir Thomas was the one who guarded it.

  Something told me this was not the case. I couldn’t imagine knowledge of something so valuable and rare being entrusted to such a liar and cheat. No doubt through villainous means, Sir Hugh had followed the trail that led to me. Now more than ever, I needed to find a way to get the Grail to safety.

  Robard continued pacing. I moved to the corner of my cell and sat slumped against the wall. Soon the shadows grew darker and twilight crept in. When darkness arrived, one of the men-at-arms lighted an oil lamp sitting on the table, filling the room with dim light. Robard and I were silent for a long time, thinking.

  “In the streets, as we were being led here, I thought I saw Maryam watching. Perhaps she’ll…”

  “Don’t even mention her name,” Robard interrupted. “She’s under no obligation to help us anymore, anyway. She’s long gone. If we’re going to get out of here, we’re going to have to do it on our own. We’ve seen the last of the Assassin.”

  With impeccable timing, Maryam’s face appeared in the window of Robard’s cell and she whispered quietly, “Hello, Archer. Did you miss me?”

  28

  The faint glow of the oil lamp gave us just enough light to see the dim outline of Maryam’s face in the window. I was nearly speechless, and Robard stood frozen in place as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “Don’t stop pacing, you idiot! Keep moving like you were before or the guards will grow suspicious,” she hissed.

  Startled as he was, Robard resumed pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. He threw a few curses and complaints at the guards for good measure.

  “Tristan, I am about to create a diversion. Be ready!” she whispered.

  “What? Wait…What are you going…?” But she was gone before the words were out of my mouth.

  For several minutes nothing happened. Robard continued pacing, and I sat slumped in the corner as if I were about to drift off to sleep. The guards still sat on the bench across the room, talking quietly.

  The entrance to the jail had no door. It had either broken off or fallen into disrepair and been removed. A few minutes after Maryam appeared in our window, we watched a smoking bundle of dried rushes come flying through the entryway, landing in the center of the room. They must have been coated in grease and dunked in water or mud, for instead of bursting into flames they merely created smoke, which began to fill the room.

  The guards jumped to their feet, shouting. One ran to the center of the room, stomping at the bundle in an attempt to put out the sputtering flames. The smoke kept streaming off the rushes and he began coughing. Then two more torches flew in, landing at his feet. Smoke billowed up around him, and even in the dim light of the lamp he was almost invisible.

  Both men were yelling now as the smoke thickened. It would soon reach our cell and we would not be able to breathe. The lamp on the table was suddenly extinguished, plunging the room into darkness except for a few flickering shadows cast by the flames of the torches. I heard a muttered curse, and then one of the guards let out a pained scream. I heard a sword being drawn, then the clang of steel followed by more curses and shouts.

  Out of the commotion and noise, a shadowy figure appeared at my cell door, and a few seconds later it swung open. The figure moved to Robard’s cell and his door opened as well.

  “Come!” Maryam shouted. “This way!”

  “Wait!” I called after her. I needed to get the satchel and my swords.

  The smoke was disorienting, but I had a general sense of which direction to go. I couldn’t see Maryam or Robard, but heard them moving toward the door. I quickly crossed the room toward the table holding our weapons and supplies. Halfway to where I thought the table should be, I stumbled over something on the floor, falling hard to the ground. It was one of the guards. He didn’t move, and for a moment I worried that Maryam had killed him. But a groan escaped his lips and I realized he was only stunned. I scrambled to my feet, staggering the rest of the way across the room to the table. Feeling around with my hands, I grabbed the satchel, quickly throwing it over my shoulder.

  I ran my hand over the table, finding my swords and gathering them up. I started moving toward the door, then remembered Robard’s bow and wallet of arrows. Taking them as well as our bedrolls, I touched along the wall with my shoulder until I reached the door.

  Robard and Maryam stood waiting just outside the door. It was good to breathe the cool night air. I handed Robard his bow and arrows, and we wasted no time running away.

  Just a few yards down the street we heard the shouts of the guards as they emerged from the smoking jail. They hollered loudly, sounding the alarm, and we ran faster. Maryam led us down the street, turning at the first intersection. Sprinting until we reached the next alley we ran through it and then another, until the shouts of the guards faded away. Approaching the entrance to another street, we carefully peered out at a main thoroughfare lighted by torches every few yards. A few cooking fires still burned in the ovens and clay chimneys that stood in front of the buildings lining the street. We saw no one in either direction.

  Looping Sir Thomas’ battle sword over my back I hooked the short sword to my belt.

  “Robard, I am sorry for what happened. I never expected to find Sir Hugh in Tyre,” I said.

  “We’ll discuss it later. Let’s escape first,” he said.

  “Agreed. Let’s head for the docks. There will be taverns there, and where there are taverns there are sa
ilors. We should be able to find passage on a ship. Sir Thomas left me with some money, enough to get us back to England. Maryam, can you take us there?” I asked.

  “Yes, but we must hurry. Those guards will return to the Commandery and bring help. The docks are the first place they’ll look. The city gates are closed at night, so we can’t get out that way unless we climb the walls, which are guarded. Let’s go,” she said.

  Maryam started down the street.

  “Wait!” I yelled.

  She stopped.

  “I need to get something first. In the alley this afternoon I buried something. It’s quite valuable and I must retrieve it. Can you lead us back there first?”

  In the low light from the torches and fires I could see Robard’s eyes narrow.

  “I thought you told me you carried dispatches and orders for the Templars in Tyre,” he asked.

  “I did. I do. I am. Or was,” I said. I had hoped he would not ask these questions.

  “You gave nothing to the Marshal. Did you bury the orders? What did you have that you didn’t want the Templars here to see?” he asked.

  “It is a long story. Full of intrigue, with many layers,” I exaggerated. “For now, let’s just say that I was following orders. At the first opportunity I will explain everything. Now, however, I would suggest more escaping.” I hoped I sounded convincing, but I also hoped Robard would forget that I would explain later. I had promised Sir Thomas I would tell no one.

  Robard’s face held its puzzled expression, but then he shrugged.

  “In case I haven’t mentioned it, we need to hurry!” Maryam cut in. “If you wish to return to that alley, it’s this way.”

  We set off at a brisk walk. Running would only attract attention, and we wished to be invisible. Crossing back through the now mostly deserted marketplace, I soon recognized the street we’d traveled along on the way to the Commandery earlier that day. We walked carefully through the stalls and carts, pausing now and then to make sure there were no men-at-arms or guards in the area. All was quiet.

  A few minutes later we stood at the entrance to the alley.

  “This is it,” Maryam said.

  The alley ran between two large stone buildings. Affixed to the wall of each building was a burning torch, giving light to the street where we stood. I took one of the torches and, holding it high in front of me, started off down the alley.

  Everything seemed different in the darkness. The torch cast flickering shadows on the walls, and for a moment I was convinced that I was in the wrong place. At last I spotted the mark I’d scratched into the side of the building. I knelt, sticking the end of the torch into the ground, scooping away at the sand with my hands.

  A few inches down, I uncovered the ring and Sir Thomas’ letter. I stuffed them in the satchel and kept digging. Shoveling out more sand, then more, a sinking feeling began growing in the center of my gut. Frantically I clawed at the sand until I had made a very large hole. The Grail was gone.

  Sitting back on my knees, I felt sick and light-headed. As impossible as it seemed, someone had found where I had hidden the Grail. But it made no sense. If they had taken the Grail, if they considered it valuable, why not take the ring as well? It would also fetch a handsome price. I was sure I’d placed the Grail on top of the ring and letter. Or had I? In a frenzy, I dug again at the hole, but it was no use. It was gone.

  I sat there too stunned to move, realizing that I must have been followed. Or someone must have seen me in the alley. However it happened, I had been spotted burying the Grail, and someone had dug it up and it was gone forever. I had failed. I had given Sir Thomas my promise and I had failed.

  Then I heard a growling sound behind me. It was a soft low sound, and it startled me. I grabbed the torch with one hand and jumped to my feet. My other hand flew to the sword at my belt. I turned around to see what else could go wrong in this truly remarkably bad day I was having.

  A dog, the dog I had seen that afternoon, small and golden, stood in the alley. In its mouth it held the Grail still wrapped in linen. As I reached for it, the dog backed away, growling.

  “Good girl. Nice dog. Give me the Grail, please?” I pleaded. I reached again, and the dog inched backward. I was running out of time. No matter what I tried, the dog refused to give up its prize. In desperation, I felt inside my satchel. In the bottom I found a piece of date that I’d missed earlier when I’d treated the dog. I pulled it out and offered it.

  It slowly stepped forward and placed the Grail gently at my feet, swallowing the date in a single gulp.

  29

  Relief washed over me as I reached down and clutched the Grail with both hands. The dog slowly rolled over on its back, its paws in the air, giving a small yip. I was nearly in tears, but I gave her a rub on the belly. I unwrapped the linen covering to make sure it was the same Grail I had seen a few nights ago, and offered up a prayer of thanks.

  “Good girl,” I said. The dog snorted and huffed, but clearly loved the belly rub. “Good girl.” She licked my hand, then stood looking at me expectantly.

  Dumping out the contents of the satchel I placed the Grail in the secret compartment. Scooping everything back inside, I grabbed the torch, heading back the way I’d come. The dog fell into step alongside me. I stopped.

  “Stay, girl. You can’t come with me.”

  The dog sat on its haunches looking at me expectantly. Her face was a mass of fluffy golden hair. Her kind, intelligent eyes were dark brown and never wavered from my own.

  “I can’t take you along, pup,” I said.

  I started up the alley and once more the dog trailed right along beside me. I stopped again and she promptly sat. I started. So did the dog.

  “Girl, stay!” I said, trying to keep my voice down, but growing a little impatient.

  I broke into a trot up the alley and she loped easily along at my side. Nothing I tried worked. It looked like I had gained another companion.

  Robard and Maryam were right where I had left them, standing on either side of the alley, keeping an eye on the street. They both looked at me as I approached the alley entrance. Robard spotted the dog first.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “A dog.”

  “I can see that! What are you doing with it?” he said.

  “I believe it is more what she is doing with me,” I answered. “I tried to get her to stay, but she seems convinced that she needs to come with us.”

  Robard snorted, but Maryam knelt, scratching the mutt behind the ears and laughing as the dog jumped at her, licking her face. It was the first time I had heard Maryam giggle like that.

  “Any sign of Sir Hugh’s men?” I asked.

  “None,” Robard replied.

  “Let’s get moving. We need to get to the docks,” I said.

  Maryam rose, and with no one in sight we moved out of the alley. She led us down a cobblestone pathway where we cut through another alley. Moving back and forth through the twisting, turning streets it was not long before I was horribly lost. The whole time the dog trotted along beside us, perfectly content to be in our company.

  The city was quiet at night, but I heard the sounds of people as we passed by taverns and houses. Laughter and shouts escaped into the darkness, mixing with the spicy smells of cooking fires. It was a pleasant contrast to the busy activity during the daylight hours.

  Finally we exited an alley and before us lay the waterfront. It was a shabby-looking place with a few decrepit buildings running directly along the shore. A long wooden dock jutted out into the water perpendicular to the street. A single longboat was moored to it. Out in the bay I saw several ships lying at anchor, bobbing gently in the moonlit waves.

  Flashing back to my first sea voyage to Outremer, I did not relish getting on a ship again. My stomach lurched at the thought. But a ship would get me home faster and relieve me of the Grail. Taking the overland route would take months and was rife with danger. Added to that was the fact that I had no idea how to even find the o
verland route and my options were limited. I needed a ship.

  “What now?” asked Maryam.

  In reality, I had no idea. I had hoped to find the waterfront in the daylight hours. Then I could have taken a careful assessment of the ships in the harbor, asking people on the docks who might provide us with a good vessel at a fair price. Now our situation was more desperate. Undoubtedly we had Sir Hugh and his men-at-arms searching the city for us. It was imperative to find a ship that could leave immediately.

  “We’ll need to find a captain. My guess would be that we look there first.” I pointed to a run-down, dilapidated old building standing a few yards away. Light came through the windows, and I heard the buzz of voices rising and falling inside. A sign hanging above the door said “The Dancing Fig” in English with some Arabic words written underneath. It did not look inviting. The door burst open and a man staggered out, stumbling a few steps before falling face-first in the dirt. He lay there moaning a few moments, then clambered to his feet. Letting out a mighty belch he wandered off down the street.

  Robard and Maryam looked at the building, then at each other, then at me. The dog gave out a low whine and flattened itself to the ground, whimpering and growling.

  “You’re going to go in there?” Robard asked.

  “Yes.”

  Robard shook his head and chuckled.

  “Don’t laugh. You’re coming in with me.” I had no intention of entering that place without someone to watch my back.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he said.

  “Maryam, would you kindly wait here and keep watch? Give a shout if anyone shows up. Besides, I don’t think The Dancing Fig is any place for a…well…let’s just say it’s probably best that Robard and I go in alone.”

  Maryam smiled and agreed to wait. Moving a few steps away she took a position inside the doorway of a building, giving her a good view of the street in both directions. The dog followed along and curled up at her feet.