Keeper of the Grail (21 page)

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Authors: Michael P. Spradlin

Tags: #Medieval, #Action & Adventure, #Juvenile Fiction, #Orphans & Foster Homes, #Fiction, #Knights and Knighthood, #Royalty, #Family, #Historical, #Grail, #General, #Middle Ages

BOOK: Keeper of the Grail
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Brother Lewis shouted out a command, and I heard the corridor behind me fill with men-at-arms.

“What?” Robard yelled. “You’ll not lock me away!”

He began pushing his way down the hallway, but the men-at-arms blocked his path.

I turned back to Marshal Curesco.

“Marshal Curesco! You cannot do this. I am telling you the truth! Please!” I pleaded.

“That may be. But I cannot discount the word of another Marshal of the Order. I promise you that you will be held there only until I return from conference with the King. We must attend to this news of the Saracens. Then we will sort out the facts of your story,” he said.

Sir Hugh glared at me, but his lips curled into a self-satisfied smile. I knew we would never see Marshal Curesco again if Sir Hugh had his way.

The men-at-arms led Robard out of the hallway. They had relieved him of his bow and wallet. Two others entered the room and relieved me of my short sword, each taking an arm and leading me toward the corridor.

“Sire, please!” I shouted, struggling against their grip. But Marshal Curesco was already talking busily with Brother Lewis. He gave me a dismissive wave.

We were led out of the main hall and through the gates of the Commandery past the startled guard who had let us enter only moments before. Robard was shouting and cursing, making a very big commotion, but with no weapon there was little he could do. The men-at-arms ignored him.

“So, it would appear that your protector has abandoned you,” Sir Hugh said tauntingly.

“Sir Thomas has likely died a hero’s death, fighting with his comrades to the end. Unlike you, who seem to have made a very convenient escape from an embattled and surrounded city. How did you do it? How did you flee Acre?” I asked.

“My activities are no concern of yours,” he said. “I can’t tell you how it pleases me to see your fall from grace. Sir Thomas was an officious, pompous fool. Countermanding my orders in front of the men, doing anything he could to undermine and embarrass me…”

“You don’t need anyone’s help to embarrass yourself,” I interrupted. Sir Hugh reacted by angrily shoving me forward into the street. I staggered but didn’t fall.

“Well, it appears he misplaced his faith in you. Look at you now. A failure easily captured and likely to hang, if I have anything to say about it. Which I will,” he said.

I didn’t respond, though I would certainly have voted against being hanged.

As we were dragged along toward the jail, small crowds of people formed in the streets to watch us pass by. For a moment I thought I saw Maryam. Here and there I caught a glimpse of a black tunic, but then I wasn’t sure. It could have been anyone.

The jail was perhaps a half league from the Commandery, and shortly we entered a large earthen building. Inside was a single room holding a table and bench along the far wall to the right. Along the back wall were the cells—three of them built like cages in the room, each enclosed by iron bars, with a small barred window.

Our weapons were laid on the table. Robard was taken to the far left cell. The men-at-arms pushed him inside, shutting the door with a clang. Robard turned at the sound, spitting at them, cursing in very specific ways about what he thought of them and their mothers, but they paid him no mind.

“Now, young squire, you will answer my questions or you will spend the rest of your days in there,” Sir Hugh said, pointing to the cell next to Robard. “Where is it? Do you have it with you?”

“Where is what?” I asked.

“Don’t toy with me, squire,” Sir Hugh said. “I give you marks for bravery, but now, tell me!” He ripped the blanket and satchel from around my shoulder. He walked to the table in the middle of the room, shaking out the blanket and dumping the contents of the satchel on the table.

“Where is it?” he snarled.

“I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Do you think I’m joking, squire?” he sneered. His fist flew out and backhanded me across the face. I tasted blood in my mouth, but did not cry out.

Rubbing the blood from my lip, I vowed not to allow him to gain any advantage over me.

“What I
think
is that a nun hits harder than you. Other than that, I have no idea what you are talking about.” Seeing Sir Hugh had started a fire in me again. I thought of Sir Thomas dying at his post. Then I saw this coward standing before me. He had slunk away before the last fight began, most likely. I could not bear it. Quincy and Sir Basil, some of the bravest men I knew, were likely dead, and this vermin thought he would break me? I swore that no matter what he did to me, I would tell this man nothing.

Sir Hugh’s eyes bored into me, but I held his gaze, determined not to blink.

“You will tell me where it is. Now,” he said.

“Sir Hugh, Sir Thomas sent me here to warn the Commandery that Acre had fallen. As I explained to the Marshal…”

Sir Hugh grabbed me by the tunic, pulling my face close to his. His voice was a whisper of barely contained rage.

“You have it. The Grail. Sir Thomas had it. He would not have left it in Acre. So he must have given it to you. I tell you so you understand me.
I
will have it! Now you will tell me where it is, do you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I said to Sir Hugh, my face only inches from his mouth. His fist drew back again, but he stopped himself, releasing his grip on me as if some outside force had suddenly caused him to regain his composure. He rubbed his hands over his face, pacing back and forth before me a few times.

“All right, squire. You win. You have what I want. But I believe I possess something you will find far more valuable than the Grail.”

“You have nothing I need, Sir Hugh,” I said.

“Don’t be so quick to judge, boy,” he said.

He looked at me, his face almost gleeful, taking great joy in drawing out the moment. I waited, silent, determined not to let him bait me.

“I know who you are, where you were born, your parents, everything.”

I tried not to let my face show anything, but failed miserably. I felt as if I’d been punched solidly in the stomach. My vision narrowed, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Then I remembered who I was dealing with.

“Liar. You lie,” I said.

“No, I really don’t,” he said, his voice low enough so that only I could hear him. “I know everything, you see. We suspected you had been left at an abbey or a nunnery as a babe but weren’t sure which one. We searched and searched for you for months after your birth, but the monks did a good job of keeping you hidden. Isn’t it rich that I just stumbled across you fifteen years later? It was Sir Thomas who insisted that we stop at St. Alban’s that night as we rode toward Dover. I thought nothing of it at first, but when you injured my horse and he took such an immediate interest in you, it aroused my suspicions.

“Interested now?” he asked, his face still only inches from mine. I said nothing.

“It took me a while, but I pieced it all together. I followed you to the stables that night intending to give you the thrashing you deserved. But that stupid monk showed up. Lucky for you. Then Sir Thomas invited you along with us and I knew there was more to you than met the eye. Sir Thomas would never take on such a doltish, incompetent squire.

“The next day I sent riders to the abbey. And I learned some interesting things,” he gloated. I remembered seeing Sir Hugh with the King’s Guards outside the Commandery gates. He had sent his men to the abbey? For what purpose?

“I learned a great many things. It’s interesting what men will tell you when their fingers are being broken. Now I know everything, and I’ll tell you everything. You just tell me where you’ve hidden the Grail. The knight you swore allegiance to has played you for a fool.”

I felt dizzy and disoriented. I couldn’t breathe. Sir Hugh had sent riders to the abbey to torture the monks and question them about me? Why? How could I possibly be that important? Now he claimed to have knowledge of the one thing I’d wished to know my entire life. Then Sir Thomas’ words came back to me and I remembered the cretin who stood in front of me. A liar, a coward and a cheat. Even if I told him what he wanted, he would kill me anyway. I would need to find my answers elsewhere. He was probably lying about everything.

“No,” I said. “I came here carrying news of Acre—”

Before I could finish, Sir Hugh bellowed in rage, grabbing my tunic in his fist and drawing his other hand back to strike me. Just then another man-at-arms burst into the room, saving me from another blow.

“Sir Hugh, Marshal Curesco has requested your presence at the King’s headquarters. We have other confirmed reports of Saracen patrols in the surrounding countryside. Battle orders are being drawn as we speak!” he said.

Sir Hugh’s face paled at the mention of the Saracen patrols, his cowardice revealing itself again.

“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

T
he 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.

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