The 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.
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.