I am closer now, Sir Thomas.
Wherever you are, I believe you watch over me. And if such a thing is true, then you know how far I’ve come. Though I cannot claim it was all my doing. My friends Robard and Maryam have remained steadfast, and in their own way they have carried the Grail as well. I know you ordered me to tell not a soul, but I could no longer let them risk their lives without knowing why. And I found, in their friendship and fierce loyalty, a much lighter step along a very perilous path.
I am tired.
More tired than I have ever been. So weary my bones ache at the very thought of moving. When we stood in the Knights Hall, back in Acre, and you handed me this leather satchel, which never leaves my side, you gave me no indication of how far I would travel. Back to England, yes, but a much longer journey for my soul.
I have seen things, Sir Thomas.
Death and pain and love and joy. And more than once I have wanted to curse your name. To throw my arms to heaven and ask,
“Why me?” Who is this Tristan of St. Alban’s that made a Knight of the Temple believe he was ever capable of so grave a duty?
I still carry your sword, sire.
And, I am ashamed to say, I will one day stand before my maker and tell him I have wielded it in anger. With it, I have taken the lives of other men. Those who wished to kill me, no doubt, but the truth of it brings me no peace.
I will carry on, my liege.
Like the monks who raised me, I cannot bear the thought of disappointing you. Your face haunts my dreams. You trained me well, sire. But many times I worry you did not train me well enough.
I know the power of the Grail, Sir Thomas.
In battle, or in danger, when all around me appears about to fall, I hear its song. Does it sound because I am righteous? Or does it seek to guide me down a path I am incapable of finding-too weak to find-on my own?
Where are you, Sir Thomas?
If you are watching over me, you see me standing on the edge of complete and utter failure. My friends may die, and their blood will be on my hands and seared into my heart. There is nothing left for me to do but fight on, as you told me. I will not quit. Nor will I stop until I have delivered the Grail as you commanded. Or I will die in the attempt.
I am tired.
But I will fight on, Sir Thomas.
I will fight on.