Keeper of the Grail tyt-1

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Keeper of the Grail tyt-1 Page 15

by Michael P. Spradlin


  Robard’s face clouded, and he moved until his face was just inches from hers. She did not flinch.

  “Excuse me for assaulting your tender sensibilities, but we only just met you. You tried to kill us. And I shot you,” he reminded her. “You could be setting us up…”

  Maryam’s anger flashed across her face. “It was a lucky shot!” she said.

  “It was not a lucky shot!” he shouted.

  I cut in. “Robard, it doesn’t matter anymore. There are Saracens within a few days’ ride of Tyre. If we wish to make our way home, we must get there quickly and find a ship before we are trapped.”

  “I still think she’s lying about something,” he said.

  “She isn’t,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Maryam looked at me in gratitude. I understood what she had done. She had promised to get us safely to Tyre. With the city under siege she knew we’d not be able to get home. She had shown me that her oath meant something to her.

  As we ran, I thought about how just a short while ago we were cowering in a thicket, a few feet away from a detachment of Saracens. Lying there exposed, outnumbered, with nowhere to run if we were discovered. She could have easily betrayed us, but she had kept her word.

  At least for now.

  THE CITY OF TYRE

  26

  We ran through the remaining night. As morning approached, the sun entered the eastern sky slowly, as if it were reluctant to start the day. Our course held us fast along the coast, and as we ran, we could still glimpse the sea below us. White shorebirds began their morning rituals, diving and floating above the gentle swells cresting along the shore. On the gusting wind, I occasionally heard their songs as they twisted and darted over the water. I felt I was running through Eden itself. Looking at the gorgeous land before me, the water a stunning blue against the morning sky, the cliffs so stark in their beauty, I could scarcely believe this place had seen so many centuries of war and unrest. It felt peaceful beyond compare.

  I had often wondered these past few months if all the fighting, killing and destruction had been worth it. Kings had been born and died here. Armies had fought here hundreds of years ago and fought again today. Battlefields had been taken and lost. Despite all that had happened in this place, the land itself was untouched by it. It remained peaceful and beautiful, as if it could speak to us. As if to say, “Fight on all you wish. I will not change. I am constant.”

  Two days of nearly constant running drew us ever closer to Tyre. As Maryam insisted, we ran through the daylight hours, and each morning as the sun took full effect and the temperature rose, I felt exposed, traveling out in the open as we were. I argued that we should move inland if we were to continue on this way. Maryam disagreed, countering that the woods were full of Saracens moving about and that we could stumble across a patrol or encampment at any moment. Running along the coast, at least we would see anyone coming from quite a way off. Then we could climb to the shore below us and hide among the rocks. This time Robard agreed with Maryam.

  So on we ran. I had no idea how close we were to Tyre, but I felt it couldn’t be much farther. If we had been traveling on the road, I think we would have begun seeing merchants and traders and other traffic heading to the city. Or perhaps the road would have been full of Saracens. Running on the open shoreline it felt as if we were the only people in the world. I knew that the nearer we drew to Tyre, the closer the main road would come to the shore, because the city sat right on the coast. At that point perhaps we would try to blend in with the traffic on the road and make our way to the city unnoticed.

  Not knowing what lay ahead, I suggested we stop for a moment to check over our weapons. Robard tended to his bow while I examined my swords. Given the fact that Maryam had remained truthful thus far, I decided to return her daggers. As I fished them from my bedroll, I noticed how beautiful they were. The blades were polished to a high sheen, and the hilts were made of gold and bejeweled. They must have been worth a great deal.

  I handed them to Maryam hilt first. She looked at them briefly, then, almost faster than I could see, flipped them around and secreted them in the sleeves of her tunic. Robard looked at me with wide eyes. I was glad Maryam was on our side. At least temporarily.

  Well past noon we crested another ridge, and there in the distance lay Tyre. The sky was crystal clear, and I could see smoke from fires, ships moving in and out of the harbor, and all the other signs of life in a city. It was perhaps three leagues away, and indeed the main road emerged out of the hills to the south, leading straight to the city gates.

  I suggested that we cut inland to the road. We were less likely to be noticed than if we approached the city along the shore. Robard and Maryam agreed and we headed south. Before long we had reentered the woods and soon had the road in sight. We paused, hiding in the underbrush and watching what passed by before we continued. For all we knew, Tyre could already be under the Saladin’s control.

  For an hour we watched and observed. Traders and merchants passed. Goatherds and shepherds with flocks of sheep moved along the road. When at last a squad of soldiers rode by, clearly members of the King’s Army, we knew we were at least temporarily safe. As we had drawn nearer to Tyre, Maryam had restored her veil and turban. Moving from our hiding place she removed it. Her long black hair now cascaded down her shoulders and back. Robard and I were startled to see her like this again.

  “I think Al Hashshashin might not be welcome in Tyre,” she said. “It’s better if I look like a simple peasant girl on my way to the marketplace. Don’t you think?” She tucked in the hood of her tunic so it didn’t show. Without the hood, turban and veil, her tunic transformed her from a Hashshashin and she looked much less dangerous than she actually was.

  “A simple peasant girl with two Hashshashin daggers hidden in her sleeves who also happens to be a deadly killer. Sure,” said Robard.

  I expected Maryam to be angry, but instead she laughed. Again, her laughter was as joyous as the first time I’d heard it.

  We crept cautiously from our hiding place onto the road. With no one immediately about we began walking quickly toward the city, entering Tyre a short time later without incident.

  Tyre was bustling and loud, reminding me somewhat of Dover. But its marketplace was larger and more crowded, with a curious mix of new smells: cooking meat, the ocean, spices and incense, the earthy smells of camels and a thousand other scents I could not identify. It was hot in the afternoon sun, and the merchants and shopkeepers did everything they could to remain in the shade.

  “What now?” Robard asked.

  “I need to find the Templar Commandery immediately,” I answered. “Then locate the Marshal and deliv…and talk to him about what we’ve seen.” I glanced at Maryam, worried that I might have given something away, but her expression was blank. Although I felt at this point I could trust her, I did not wish to tempt her Hashshashin nature.

  “Well, how do we find the Commandery?” Robard asked.

  “I don’t know. It should be easy to spot. They’ll have the banner flying. There was supposed to be a large force here. Perhaps we should split-”

  Maryam interrupted me. “Oh, for the grace of Allah,” she snorted. “Why don’t you just ask for directions?” Rolling her eyes she stomped up to a vendor at a nearby stall, speaking to him in Arabic. He answered her, pointing over his shoulder.

  “This way,” she said.

  “Wait, Maryam,” I said. “You have delivered us safely to Tyre as promised. You’ve fulfilled your obligation. Robard and I can take it from here.”

  Maryam looked at me and then Robard. She studied his face for several seconds.

  “Well, I can accompany you to the Commandery at least. I don’t mind. Besides, you may need me to translate for you if you get lost,” she said.

  With no time to argue, I agreed.

  The marketplace at Tyre was a maze. The pathways through it twisted and turned, weaving through the rug merchants, food sellers and other stalls and shops.
At every one of them, someone hollered at us to purchase something. I stopped at one point to buy each of us a lamb skewer, which a man sold hot off the fire. We devoured the meat in an instant, as we had hardly had time to eat in the previous two days.

  Continuing to walk, I tried to organize my thoughts. I needed to inform the Templars of the impending attack. They would contact the King’s military advisers and formulate a strategy. I would also inform them of the fall of Acre, if they hadn’t already received word. Then I needed to find passage on a ship to England. But I must be careful. Sir Thomas had warned me that even Knights of the Temple had gone nearly mad trying to possess the Grail.

  Passing through the marketplace we found a cobblestone street leading toward the eastern edge of the city. Maryam said the Commandery was not too far away now, and for some reason, the closer we got, the more nervous I became. As we passed an alleyway leading between two large buildings, I had a thought.

  “Can both of you wait here a moment?” I asked. “I need to find a place to, well, you know…”

  Robard laughed, and he and Maryam nodded. I headed down the alley. It wasn’t straight, curving back and forth the farther along it I went. Finally I reached a quiet spot, glancing around and seeing no one about. Above me clothing dried in the sun on a line tied between the two buildings. A few empty barrels were stacked next to a door that led into the rear of one of the structures. A small yellow dog lay in the brief shade of a doorway, but its eyes were mostly closed as it napped in the heat of the afternoon sun. The coast was clear.

  Moving several feet down the alley from the doorway, I found my spot. Kneeling in the dirt, I used the small knife from my satchel to make a footlong scratch in the side of the building, very near the ground. I rubbed a handful of sand over the fresh scratch so that it was still visible but did not look newly made. With my knife I scooped out a hole in the sand directly below the mark on the wall.

  I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should take Sir Thomas’ letter with me to the Commandery; I might need it to prove my identity. But I finally decided it was safer to keep it for some future point in my journey. It shouldn’t be that difficult to convince the local Commandery of my identity.

  I placed Sir Thomas’ letter and ring at the bottom, and after removing all my other possessions from the satchel, and double-checking to make sure that I was not being watched, I lifted out the Grail and set it gently in the hole. Then I covered it all with sand, smoothing it out with my hands. I repacked my possessions and stood up, walking back and forth over the spot numerous times, scuffing my feet. When I was finished, it looked like it had never been dug up at all.

  As I turned back, the small dog lifted its head to watch me. It yawned, stretching as I passed by, and I reached down to scratch it behind the ears. A scrawny dog, it appeared as if it hadn’t had much to eat recently. Inside my satchel I had a few dates I had saved, and I tore one into smaller pieces, holding them out for the dog to examine. She hungrily snatched them up. I gave her the rest of what I had, and the little mutt licked my hand before dropping her head back down and drifting off to sleep.

  Maryam and Robard were standing where I’d left them, fidgeting. I was sure they hadn’t spoken a word to each other since I’d been gone. Robard was doing everything in his power to look at anything but Maryam.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  We continued down the street, and before long, the Commandery appeared, a Templar banner hanging from the roof. The sight was comforting. I felt relieved to see something so familiar. The front gate to the grounds was guarded by a single sergeanto. Dust lined his face, and he sweated in the heat. His expression said he’d rather be anywhere but on guard duty.

  “Maryam,” I said. “I think this is where we should say good-bye.”

  Sadness flitted across her face, but then she nodded.

  “Thank you for guiding us here. I hope that you will make it safely to wherever you are going next,” I said.

  “Good-bye, Tristan. Good-bye, Archer. I hope our paths will cross again sometime,” she said.

  I felt like I should say more, but I had no idea what. She looked at me expectantly, but then turned her gaze on Robard. No matter what she was, I no longer felt like she was my enemy. And I don’t think Robard did either, although he was probably loath to admit it.

  “Yes. Well. Good-bye. Nice knowing you. Thanks for not killing us while our backs were turned,” he said.

  To my surprise Maryam laughed. Her hand darted out, and she briefly squeezed Robard on the forearm. Robard’s face turned red at her touch, and he was suddenly consumed by a coughing fit.

  With a smile Maryam turned and strolled off down the street.

  Robard and I watched her go, then turned toward the guard.

  “State your business,” he ordered as we approached.

  “I am Tristan of St. Alban’s, squire to Brother Knight Sir Thomas Leux of the Dover Commandery most recently deployed in Acre. I have a report for the Marshal,” I answered.

  “I know of Sir Thomas, but I don’t know you. Do you have proof of this?” he asked.

  “I do. I carry his sword,” I said, turning so the sergeanto could see the battle sword that I carried across my back. I also showed him the Templar seal carved into the hilt of my short sword. The sergeanto nodded but wasn’t completely satisfied.

  “Who is this?” he asked, pointing to Robard.

  “This is Robard Hode, formerly of the King’s Archers. He has accompanied me from Acre. Please, sergeanto, we saw Saracen patrols not more than a day away. I have urgent news for the Marshal. May we enter?”

  His eyes flew open when I mentioned the nearby Saracens. He considered us a moment longer, then stepped aside and opened the gate.

  “You will find the Marshal in the office off the meeting room in the main hall,” he said.

  This Commandery was quite similar to the one in Dover, with only minor differences in the construction of the buildings. It was made of mud bricks and once inside smelled like wet dirt, but the layout was almost identical.

  Entering the main hall, it felt unusually quiet. I was used to the hubbub of the barracks and grounds in Acre, but perhaps the knights were off on patrols or performing other duties. A squire sitting at a table mending a harness directed us to the Marshal. He pointed to the left where a corridor led away from the main hall.

  There was a small room at the end of the corridor, and as we approached, I could see through the doorway a man, dressed in a Marshal’s tunic, sitting at a wooden table writing on parchment. A sergeanto stood next to him holding several more sheets, waiting for the Marshal’s signature.

  I knocked on the doorway.

  “Sire, I beg your pardon for the disturbance, but I bring news from Acre and the knights there,” I said.

  Both men looked up. The Marshal studied me for a moment. He was a small man, balding and round faced. His eyes were dark, and it looked like a permanent frown was etched on his face. As he regarded me, his face was expressionless, but I could see cunning in his eyes. Something told me to be careful with what I said.

  “You may enter,” he said.

  Stepping before his desk, I was about to begin my report when a voice from the corner of the room interrupted me. “I was wondering when you would show up.”

  A voice, contemptuous and full of hate, that I would know anywhere. My knees trembled and the blood rushed through my ears, and for a moment I thought I might faint.

  My eyes needed to see to be sure that my ears did not deceive me, so I turned to look and there he was, standing in the corner, near a window that bathed the room in soft light.

  Sir Hugh.

  27

  This is the one I spoke of, Marshal Curesco,” Sir Hugh said. His smile told me all I needed to know. It was a spider’s smile, if spiders were to actually smile. He could barely contain his glee at finding me here. But how could this be? How could he have escaped from Acre? And more important, did he know what I carried h
ere?

  Sir Hugh’s tunic looked freshly cleaned. He appeared fit and rested. True, he hadn’t done much fighting in Acre, but now to see him up close, I was astounded to find him free of any signs of warfare or battle. No wounds or scars. Not a bruise to be seen. Just his pinched face and that same scraggly beard.

  The Marshal looked at Sir Hugh, then at me. “Is that so?” he said.

  “This one has been nothing but trouble since he joined the order. He has no doubt deserted his post in Acre, and it appears he has stolen Templar property.”

  “What? I have not stolen anything,” I protested loudly.

  “Then how do you explain this sword?” Sir Hugh strode across the room, drawing the sword that hung across my back. “This sword belonged to Sir Thomas Leux of my regimento. I would like to know how this boy has possession of it,” he said.

  Marshal Curesco looked at me, waiting for an answer.

  “This is Sir Thomas’ sword, that is true. But he gave it to me when I left Acre. Under his orders.” I turned, staring directly at Sir Hugh when I spoke. He didn’t hold my gaze, walking around behind the table to stand at Marshal Curesco’s side, opposite the other knight.

  “And why did he order you away from Acre, exactly?” the Marshal asked.

  “The Saladin’s forces breached the city walls. We fought hand to hand through the city. The knights prepared to make a last stand in the Crusaders’ Palace. There is a secret passage there. Sir Thomas sent me through it with orders to travel to Tyre as quickly as I could and deliver the news. I met up with Robard a few days’ journey from Tyre and we traveled here together,” I told him.

 

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