Keeper of the Grail (22 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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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 sailors. 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

R
elief 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 overland 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.

I handed my short sword to Robard. “You might find this more useful than a bow or your dagger at close quarters,” I told him.

He held the sword out in front of him, as if I’d handed him a bouquet of flowers or a small kitten. “What are you going to use?”

“I still have the battle sword.” I adjusted it so that it lay across my back at a better angle, making it easier to draw.

Robard saw the logic of my suggestion and buckled my sword around his waist.

“Shall we?” I asked.

Entering The Dancing Fig we discovered that the inside looked even worse than the outside. The smell hit us like a punch in the face, an ugly combination of spilled ale, burned meat and unwashed men. My eyes began to water, and I waved my hand back and forth over my face for a few moments until I grew used to the odor.

It was dim inside, with light from a few oil lamps placed here and there along the walls. Some candles were lighted, placed on the few tables that took up the main part of the room. Along the back wall was a wooden bar with an open doorway behind it. A dark-haired man stood behind the bar, surveying us as we entered.

Most every table was occupied. A few of them held a single man drinking alone. Some of them were surrounded by small groups holding loud conversations. No one, except the man behind the bar, paid us any attention.

“Now what?” Robard whispered.

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