every doorway, rooftop and potential hiding place, but I could see nothing or no one in evidence. For a moment I wished Angel were with me, for her nose and hearing would have been a keen advantage.
Not willing to rush headlong into a trap, I took another circuitous route back to the wall where my scaling ladder lay hidden. Making sure no one was following or lying in wait to ambush me, I replaced the log against the wall and climbed over and down the other side. I had used up most of the night, and light was gathering in the east. It was going to be a bitterly cold day, but I hardly noticed the falling temperature.
As fast as I could, I worked my way back up to the camp where I had left Maryam and Robard. With Father William dead, I had no idea what to do with the Grail. But I would worry about it later. Getting away from here was my first priority.
When I reached the point where I could look down on the village, I was shocked to see that the knights guarding the entrance had vanished. All that remained were their tents and cook fires. Where had they gone?
As the sun rose, snowflakes drifted out of the sky. The wind picked up, and my face and hands grew cold. A feeling of dread came over me as I approached the copse of trees where I’d left Maryam and Robard. Where was Angel? She would have smelled me coming and should have burst to my side in greeting. Something was very, very wrong.
For a moment, the woods thickened and I thought perhaps I was lost. Then I heard a familiar snort and burst through a clump of underbrush to find Charlemagne tethered to a tree. He nickered at my approach and I patted him on the withers. He was saddled and ready to ride, but the bags of food Tuck had packed for us, as well as the bundle of arrows that I’d carried lashed to the back of my saddle, were gone.
Had Robard and Maryam taken my words to heart? Perhaps I had spent too much time in Rosslyn and they assumed I’d been captured, and had followed my instructions to escape. No. That couldn’t be it. Robard and Maryam would never follow my instructions. They would have come to find me if they were able. Something must have spooked them. I was no tracker but would have to see if I could find where they had gone.
I climbed into the saddle and was about to spur Charlemagne away when I spotted one of Robard’s arrows lying on the ground, just outside our camp. I could have easily missed it, but I stopped and studied it for a moment. It was not stuck in the ground, point first. It was lying flat, pointing to the south, back in the direction we had come the day before.
The arrow gave me pause. It might have accidentally fallen from one of the bundles they carried on their saddles. Or perhaps it had tumbled unexpectedly from their wallets as they mounted their horses.
But I was sure it hadn’t. Robard treated his shafts like gold. He would not be so careless. The arrow was a signal. They had headed south.
I steered Charlemagne through the woods, and the sun was coming up, but the snow fell more heavily. I pulled my cowl up around my neck and rode on.
I approached the promontory we had climbed the day before where the River Esk ran below. The wind picked up and the snow stung my face, but as I drew closer to the high ridge, I spied a small group of figures on horseback in front of me. I reined Charlemagne to a halt a few paces away.
Before me Sir Hugh sat mounted in the center of a line of knights. On either side of him, still on their horses, were Robard and Maryam, with their hands bound behind their backs.
33
'Squire,” Sir Hugh said hatefully.
“Sir Hugh. What brings you to these parts?” I struggled to keep my voice calm.
A vision of the crosses lining the lane at St. Alban’s appeared in my mind. The image of poor Brother Tuck alone in the woods nearby, left without the only home he’d ever known. All of the horror visited on the world because of this vile, evil excuse for a man churned through me.
Robard and Maryam both looked crestfallen. I mouthed the word
The mounted knights sat six to a side beside the prisoners. Some of them carried lances, and most held swords across the pommel of their saddles. They blockaded the path leading from the high ridge down to the river. There was no escape for me. This was the end.
And in truth, I was ready for it. Sir Thomas could ask no more of me. He had given me an order and I had followed it as best I could. I would not let Sir Hugh kill my friends. Not for anything. But I also would not give up without a fight.
“Where is it, boy?” Sir Hugh asked.
“Where is what?” I replied.
Sir Hugh drew his sword with blinding speed and held it out so it sat poised, just inches from Maryam’s neck.
“Who dies first?” He smirked. God himself could not imagine how sick I was of his face. How I wished to crush it beneath my boot.
“Don’t tell him, Tristan,” Maryam said. “You can’t let this swine-” Her words were cut off by Sir Hugh deftly slashing at her with his blade. A small cut opened on her neck. Maryam did not flinch, but Robard went mad. He shouted and tried to dismount his horse, and the knight next to him clubbed him hard across the face. Robard rocked back, nearly tumbling from the saddle, but remained upright, stunned but still cursing.
“Leave them alone, you miserable wretch,” I said. I dropped Charlemagne’s reins and grasped the strap of the satchel in my right hand. If ever I needed the power of the Grail, it was now. But there was no hum, no vibration or song that I had come to recognize in times of danger. Somewhere along the way I must have sinned, and God had deserted me.
Slowly and with great deliberation, I dismounted. Sir Hugh sat still on his horse, watching me intently, but with a small measure of confusion in his eyes.
“All right, Sir Hugh,” I said as I removed Sir Thomas’ battle sword from its familiar place across my back and tossed it aside. Never tearing my eyes from him, I drew my own sword. “Let’s end this.” I took my stance and waited.
Sir Hugh’s eyes grew wide first in fascination, then amusement.
“Tristan, no!” Maryam shouted as Sir Hugh leapt from his horse.
The knights moved from their straight line facing me to form a crude circle around us, with two of them remaining beside Robard and Maryam. I never took my eyes off Sir Hugh, ignoring the wind and snow beating at my face. My hand gripped the hilt so tightly that I thought it would burst. Rage boiled in my stomach as I stared at Sir Hugh like a hawk might study a field mouse. Be ready, I told myself.
“This must be my lucky day,” Sir Hugh taunted me. “I get to kill you, and your friends,
“Tell me, squire,” he said. “How does it feel to come all this way, to get so close only to fail? I find it quite humorous. Sir Thomas should have been more careful picking his squires.”
“Are you hoping to talk me to death?” I asked. “Or are you going to fight?”
Sir Hugh’s face turned crimson and he attacked with fury. He swung his sword in a vicious downward arc. His blade crashed into mine and sparks flew into the winter air as our blades locked together momentarily. The force of his blow nearly drove me to my knees, but I managed to push back and gain space between us.
Bad enough I was dueling a superior swordsman, but as the snow gathered at our feet, the ground was becoming wet and slippery. Sir Hugh lunged with the point of his sword coming straight at my chest. I pushed it to the side and dodged away.
“You can’t win, squire,” he sneered at me, plunging forward again. I blocked, but he was too strong, and his blade grazed my sword arm where it met the shoulder. I felt nothing for a brief second, and then pain raged through me. He laughed as blood darkened my tunic. Some inner will prevented me from showing my anguish. He would get no satisfaction from me.
We traded blows and I swung savagely. I knew I should remain calm, but I was finding it more difficult to
