Trail of Fate (17 page)

“I'm so sorry, Celia. I won't let any harm come to those innocent—”

Celia paid no attention and called sharply for Jean-Luc. When he appeared, she spoke to him quickly and he darted off.

“Come with me, all of you,” she said.

We climbed back up to the battlement above the main gate and surveyed the ground. Sir Hugh and the regimento of Templars were retreating just as he had promised. They had carried little equipment, and those who weren't already mounted were in the process of saddling their horses and moving out. Indeed, a line of them were already heading onto the trail and back down the mountain into the forest, toward the village.

Jean-Luc returned shortly with another one of the villagers, who carried a long horn made of brass. He put the horn to his lips and sounded several long, low notes through it. The sound echoed off the surrounding mountains.

“What is this? What are you doing?” I asked her.

She laughed. “Your Sir Hugh is in for a rude surprise. It is a signal to the people of the valley, those who were not able to come to Montségur and instead hid out on their farms and in the forest.”

“Most every place we passed through on the way here was deserted,” said Robard.

Celia nodded. “Yes, since we have become enemies of the church, we needed a way to sound the alarm when those who might do us harm draw near. It was Philippe's idea, actually. This horn has just warned everyone that trouble is coming. The message will be delivered up and down the valley. Sir Hugh will find no one in the village to murder.”

I laughed at the ingenuity of it. I could almost see the smile on Philippe's face, knowing his clever method had outwitted Sir Hugh.

“Are you positive it will work?” I wasn't sure.

“Certain,” she replied.

“Then I guess this settles it,” I said, gazing out at the mountains to the north.

“Settles what?” Maryam asked.

I looked at the faces of all my friends.

“I leave at first light.”

W
e had moved to an empty chamber room inside the keep. There was much I needed to tell my friends, and I didn't wish to be overheard. As always, Angel trotted along with us. Maryam still held the satchel tightly in her hands. She made no move to return it to me yet. In fact, she looked as if she would be more than happy to smack me with it. I smiled at her, but she frowned back, not in the mood for charm.

“I don't understand,” Robard said. “If Sir Hugh is gone, why don't we take to the woods and leave?”

“He'll be watching. And suppose Celia's warning doesn't reach everyone? He'll kill them. I cannot live with the risk. I need to go,” I said, removing the battle sword from my back and unhooking my belt, relieved to be free of the weapons. It was good to not be weighed down by all those things. At St. Alban's I never carried more than the shirt on my back and a hoe. Since leaving I was continuously weighted down by more things. The swords, the Grail, they all symbolized my obligations and my duty.

“I still think you're crazy,” Maryam huffed.

“Maybe I am.” I shrugged.

Twilight approached, and the interior of the keep was lit by torchlight and oil lamps. Now the time had come to tell my friends the truth, but I found the words stuck in my throat. In my mind's eye, the face of Sir Thomas implored me to keep the secret of what I carried, not only because it would make the Grail safer, but because it would be an unfair burden to put upon my friends. He didn't take lightly this duty he had given me. He trusted me to do the right thing. Now the right thing was to tell my friends for what they had risked their lives, and in Celia's case, the lives of her people.

“I don't carry dispatches or testimony for the Master of the Order,” I told them.

Maryam and Robard looked at each other.

“No surprise—we already guessed it had to be something more important,” Maryam said.

It was hard to say it. Though the moment was here, I couldn't help but feel I was still disappointing Sir Thomas. It was easier just to show them.

With trembling hands I opened the satchel. Removing all of my other gear, I flipped open the secret compartment and pulled out the Grail. I removed the linen covering, holding it out so they could see it. No one said anything, because they were unsure of exactly what I was showing them.

“You risked our lives for a vase?” Robard finally asked.

“It's not a vase, Robard.” I set it on the table next to the satchel.

“It looks like one,” he replied.

“Tristan, what is it? Why is it so important?” Celia asked.

“It's the Holy Grail,” I answered.

Robard burst out laughing, but Maryam's and Celia's faces turned to stone. Both of them studied the Grail intently while Robard continued to laugh.

“You're joking, right?” he finally asked when he had composed himself.

“No.”

“Well, the only problem is the Grail doesn't exist, so you
are
carrying a vase.” He laughed again, finding the whole idea amusing.

“Robard, it is
not
a vase. Sir Thomas gave it to me with strict instructions on its care. He wouldn't have sent me into this much danger unless it was really important,” I insisted.

“Not even to save your life? You were facing certain death if you remained in Acre—you said so yourself. What if he just wanted to get you to safety, so he concocted a story to remove you from peril?” he suggested.

“I . . . No . . . He did not
concoct
anything! This is
the
Holy Grail.
The Cup of Christ!
I've seen it do things with my own eyes!” I don't know why I was so frustrated. Why should Robard believe me? If I were in his position, I wouldn't believe me either. He helps rescue someone from bandits who just
happens
to be carrying the most sacred relic known to man? No wonder he was laughing.

“What can I do to convince you it's true?” I asked.

“I don't know. Wait. I've got it! Why don't you have it perform a miracle?” he joked.

“It already has,” I replied.

“When?”

“When you shot me in Outremer, the Grail stayed your arrow.” I fingered the still visible hole in the satchel. “The arrow entered here, right where I carried it. It should have shattered, but it didn't even leave a scratch.”

“Hold! You shot him too?” Maryam asked, a look of horror on her face.

“Yes. No. I mean, yes, I shot him, but it was an accident. I was trying to shoot you,” Robard stammered.

“What?!” Maryam nearly shouted. “But I don't understand. You shot me when we attacked the two of you outside of Tyre. I was wounded and defenseless after that. Are you saying that you tried to shoot me again?”

“It's not . . . I mean . . . He got in the way . . . I didn't know you . . . Things were different then!” Robard said.

“I was lying helpless on the ground and you were going to shoot me?” she went on.

“It's not like that! How was I to know you weren't still dangeous? You had daggers and had already tried to kill us once! Besides, Tristan got in the way and . . .”

“Enough!” I barked at them. “We don't have time for this. This is the Holy Grail. Sir Thomas told me it was, and I trust him. Besides, I've seen it do other things, things that can't be explained.”

Maryam and Robard stopped abruptly and both glanced at me. Celia, who had been silent during the exchange, looked at me, then down at the floor, as if she were trying to decide something very important.

“What things?” Robard said, his eyebrows knitted in disbelief.

“It's hard to explain.”

“Try.” Robard was resolute.

“Sometimes . . . it makes a noise when I am . . . when we are in danger,” I said.

“What kind of noise?” he scoffed.

Celia and Maryam both spoke at once.

“A low humming sound,” they said softly. Their voices were so quiet, they were barely heard.

Robard's head snapped around to look at them, and now it was my turn to stare in disbelief. If Maryam had heard it, why hadn't she said anything? Celia had mentioned it when she found me on the beach, but I'd ignored her and changed the subject.

“I've heard the sound,” Maryam said. “The first time was on the night when we attacked your camp. I had no idea what it was or what it meant. When I heard it, it was I who led my fellow Hashshashin to your camp, not my leader. It was almost like the sound drew me there. I told myself it was Allah's voice carrying me to my hidden enemies.”

Maryam was pacing now. She looked at the Grail. “Then when you survived the attack and nursed me back to health, I heard it in the underbrush as the Saracens searched for us. But I had no idea it was this holy object. All this time I thought it was you.”

“Maybe it is him,” Celia spoke up.

“What? What do you mean? What's so special about an orphaned squire to a Templar Knight?” Robard asked, clearly not believing or understanding anything we were saying.

“What is so special about a squire, you ask? Wasn't a simple carpenter from Nazareth chosen by your God for greatness? And wasn't a common merchant chosen by God to lead Maryam's people? Look at who was given this duty: someone who is kind and good and loyal, and puts the lives of others above his own. Why Tristan? Why
not
Tristan?” Celia said, never taking her eyes away from mine.

I felt the heat rise to my face. Try as I might, I could not keep my chest from swelling. The sounds of the world stopped and everything was quiet. Maryam and Robard and even Angel melted away, and for a moment it was only the two of us. She thought this of me? Would I ever be able to live up to her?

“I heard the same sound Maryam describes as we rode along the beach,” she went on. “When I asked Tristan if he'd heard it as well, he changed the subject. He knew what I was talking about—I could see it in his eyes. He didn't want to tell me, and now I understand why. I think it was the Grail leading me to him. We Cathars do not believe the way your church does, Tristan. We do not believe in things like divinity or saints or miracles. And yet I heard this sound. And so did Maryam. So I must pray for understanding, because it seems clear you are carrying a miracle.”

“What? I'm not much for church, God knows, but even I know blasphemy when I hear it! God would never allow something so sacred to be used in such a frivolous manner,” Robard said. “Assuming this is the Holy Grail, which it's not! I've been with Tristan the whole time and I haven't heard anything. Nothing at all! I don't believe there even
is
a Holy Grail.”

“There is.” I shrugged. There was no way to easily convince Robard. “This is it.”

“So what do we do now?” Maryam asked.

“I have to do my duty. Sir Thomas ordered me to get to Scotland and make sure it is safe,” I said.

“I understand,” said Celia. “And I would go with you if I could. But I have a responsibility to my people.”

“Yes, I know,” I said, surprised at how much the news disappointed me. I knew she couldn't go, but still wanted her to. What was wrong with me?

“I'm with you,” Maryam said. “I will do all I can to help you finish this. I will help you keep the prophet's cup safe.”

I smiled my thanks at her and looked at Robard.

“What?” he asked, surprised. “Did I not tell you earlier I was in this to the end? Nothing has changed. I still don't believe it. But I knew you just weren't carrying papers. I thought maybe you'd stolen something, like gold, and was going to tell you to just give it back, whatever it was. Then we met Sir Hugh, and I realized that whatever you had of his, he probably didn't deserve it anyway. But I didn't think you thought you were carrying a priceless relic. I still don't. It looks like a vase to me!”

Despite myself I couldn't help laughing, and for the briefest instant I wondered what I had ever done to deserve friends like these. I was no longer angry with Sir Thomas for the burden he'd given me, for without it I would never have met these three. That could not be measured.

“There is something else I need to tell you,” I said.

Robard looked at Maryam. “You realize he's probably going to tell us his tunic is made from the Virgin Mother's veil or something.”

“Robard!” Maryam said, shocked at his blasphemy.

“What?” He threw up his arms and shrugged, feigning innoceNce.

“That's not it. I carry only one relic. As far as I know. The way my luck is going, Sir Thomas' battle sword could belong to King Arthur. But there is something else you should know.” And I told them all about my encounters with King Richard and his guards. Every detail. I wanted to cleanse my soul of all my secrets, and once I got going, I couldn't stop.

Robard pursed his lips. “If I didn't know better”—he stopped and walked to the window and spat—“I would think the Lionheart wants you dead.”

“I know,” I said.

“But why?” Maryam nearly shouted. “What interest could he possibly have in you?”

I shrugged, for I had no answer. “I just wanted you all to know everything. Before our next step. If you want out, I understand.”

Robard and Maryam didn't hesitate. “We're in,” he said. “I don't expect to have to have this conversation again.” He clapped me on the shoulder. Maryam and Celia smiled.

Angel gave a happy yip, which a moment later became a low growl. Stopping to listen, we heard the rising shouts of alarm and general commotion coming from outside. Just then Jean-Luc knocked at the doorway and threw the door open. He spoke quickly to Celia, then rushed away.