Keeper of the Grail Read online

  “Is the stable your duty?” Sir Thomas asked.

  “Yes. Among other things,” I answered. “I also work in the garden, I assist the cook in the kitchen with the morning and evening meals and each week I’m required to gather one cord of firewood from the forest so that we have enough for cooking and for the fireplaces in the winter. I also help with the harvest. Then if anything else requires doing, it generally falls to me.”

  “An impressive list of chores. Are you sure you didn’t leave anything out?” asked Sir Thomas, with one eyebrow raised.

  “No, sire, I’m fairly certain that covers it,” I said, embarrassed that I had shared far too much information with a knight who probably had no interest in my day-to-day affairs.

  “Well, as for the stable,” he said, looking about, “it would seem the brothers have chosen wisely. This may be the neatest, cleanest stable I’ve ever seen,” he added, laughing, as I lifted the saddle from his horse and laid it on the rail of the stall. Removing the saddle blanket, I rubbed the horse gently on its hindquarters. Then I filled the manger with hay and emptied a water bucket into the trough for the horse to drink.

  “I’ll need to help the others with their mounts,” I said, “but when I’m finished with them, I’d be happy to groom the horse for you.”

  A look of weariness mixed with gratitude came over Sir Thomas’ face.

  “Don’t trouble yourself, lad,” he said.

  “It’s no trouble. I see you ride without squires or sergeantos so you can probably use the help. Besides, the abbot says we have a duty to assist the Crusaders all we can.”

  “Does he now?” Sir Thomas asked. “Very well then, I accept your kind offer.”

  “I can show you where the guests sleep in the abbey if you’d like to follow me, sire,” I said.

  Leaving the stall, I grabbed a coil of rope from a hook on the wall, looping it over my shoulder. The door to the stables had swung shut in the breeze, and as I pushed it open, it caught a gust of wind, slamming backward on its hinges with a bang.

  Just outside the door, I watched in horror as Sir Hugh’s mount reared up in alarm, whinnying loudly, spooked by the loud sound.

  “Haw, haw!” he yelled, taking a length of the reins and striking at the horse as it bucked and tossed near him. This only made the stallion rear again and then jump sideways. When it landed, Sir Hugh lost his grip on the reins and tumbled to the ground. The stallion reared again, landed on four legs and stumbled, crashing into the fence. Its foreleg struck one of the timbers and began bleeding from a small cut.

  Sir Hugh lay in a heap on the ground, and while the stallion’s head was down, I leapt forward, hugging it hard around the neck with my arms before it could rear again. I calmly whispered to the horse, holding it fast as it tried to jerk away from me. In seconds the horse stopped its rant and stilled, standing with its foreleg gingerly touching the ground. It nickered and whinnied, but had finally calmed.

  I let go of the horse’s neck and took hold of the reins. Sir Thomas stood in the doorway of the stable with a smile on his face. “Well done, lad,” he said.

  “Well done? Well done?” shouted Sir Hugh as he scrambled to his feet. “This idiot boy’s carelessness lames my horse and nearly kills me—and you tell him well done?”

  I winced at his words. Sir Thomas glared at Sir Hugh but said nothing for the moment.

  “You stupid boy!” Sir Hugh strode to where I stood. “You imbecile! This stallion cost the Order thirty pieces of gold. Thirty! And his leg is ruined.” Sir Hugh puffed out his cheeks, his face a mask of consternation.

  “It is only a small cut, sire,” I said. “I doubt the horse is lame. Brother Tuck has many—”

  Sir Hugh stood there and with exaggerated motion, began putting on his chain-mail gloves.

  “How dare you?” he hissed, stepping toward me. I drew back as he grasped the front of my shirt with one hand. I tried to twist away, but didn’t dare let go of the stallion’s halter, afraid that it might rear again. His chain-mailed fist drew back to strike me and I tried my best to duck, keenly aware that this was going to hurt.

  3

  Except it didn’t. The blow never came.

  “Hold!” a voice said. I straightened up to see Sir Thomas grasping Sir Hugh’s arm from behind with one hand. Sir Hugh struggled vainly to free his arm, but could not shake the grip of the stronger knight.

  “Release me!” Sir Hugh spat. “I demand that you unhand me this moment! How dare you assault the Marshal of the Regimento?”

  “Being Marshal does not give you leave to thrash an innocent boy,” Sir Thomas replied calmly.

  “That boy has ruined my prized stallion.”

  Sir Thomas released his hold on Sir Hugh but moved around him to a place between us. I did not know what to do. It had all happened so fast. Now I was at the center of a conflict that I suddenly felt had little to do with me.

  “I’ll be happy to tend to the horse myself, Sir Hugh…,” I started to say, but Sir Thomas turned to me with a raised eyebrow. Immediately I wished I’d kept my mouth shut. He turned back to face Sir Hugh.

  “I demand that you step aside or I will bring you up on charges!” Sir Hugh was in a rage as spittle flew from his mouth. It looked at any moment like he might draw his sword and strike down Sir Thomas.

  “Do so, and I will bring you up on countercharges of conduct detrimental to the Order. Had the stallion reared again you may have been killed or gravely injured. The boy likely saved your life. The horse doesn’t appear to be seriously hurt. I’m sure the monks can apply a salve and bandage to the cut. Now you need to control yourself and take leave.” Sir Thomas, I noticed, spoke very calmly. His voice was steady and his tone even.

  Sir Hugh’s face had gone crimson. I thought it unlikely he was going to change his mind about punching me. His hawklike features were pinched, and the veins on his neck and forehead stood out as he grimaced in anger.

  “Sir Hugh, I warn you, lay one hand on this boy, and I will see you brought before the Master of the Order,” Sir Thomas said.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” said Sir Hugh. But his tone had changed. He sounded unsure of himself. His posture changed and he seemed to shrink into himself.

  “Then test me,” Sir Thomas said quietly.

  Sir Hugh glanced over his shoulder. The other knights had now gathered in back of the abbey and stood watching the exchange. Brother Rupert stood holding Brother Tuck’s arms behind him as he struggled to rush to my side. I waved at him to stay where he was.

  Sir Hugh looked back at Sir Thomas. His face was cold. A look of pure hatred burned in his eyes, but Sir Thomas didn’t flinch. He stood there defiantly, awaiting Sir Hugh’s next move.

  “One day, Sir Thomas. I warn you, one day…” He let the words hang ominously in the air. “Make sure that impudent boy takes care of my horse,” he said as he stomped off toward the abbey, disappearing up the steps into the main hall with the abbot close behind.

  “Sire, I’m sorry to have injured the Marshal’s horse,” I said.

  Sir Thomas turned from where he stood, reaching to stroke the stallion’s neck.

  “No bother, Tristan. Much ado about nothing. It certainly wasn’t your fault. Horses spook. Sir Hugh just has a horrible temper. Let us think no more of it. It might be best if you tended to the stallion though.”

  “Sire, I do not wish you to get into trouble for my actions, I will explain to the abbot…”

  Sir Thomas held up his hand to stop me. “You have done nothing wrong. Sir Hugh is Marshal of the Regimento, but it is I who command these knights. Sir Hugh knows he has no respect within his own ranks. He has some powerful friends in high places within our Order and the King’s court. But so do I. Nothing will come of this. Think no more of it.”

  Somewhat reassured by Sir Thomas’ words, I led the stallion into the stable, putting him in the stall next to Sir Thomas’. He was still skittish, but after being watered and fed, he calmed a bit. Moments later Brother Tuck rushed in
to the stable. Taking my head in his hands, he looked me over as if to check for damage. I assured him I was fine, then showed him the small cut on the stallion’s leg. He studied the wound, then stepped to a shelf across the stable, bringing me a small earthen jar.

  Inside the jar was a muddy ooze that he had created from various plants and roots found in the woods around the abbey. I rubbed a large handful of the mixture over the cut on the stallion’s leg, holding it in place for a few minutes while it dried. As an extra measure, Brother Tuck handed me a piece of clean cloth and I wrapped the stallion’s leg.

  With the horses stabled, Sir Thomas returned to the abbey while I helped the other knights see to their mounts. I finished just as the bell rang for the evening meal.

  That night at dinner in the main hall, I took my normal place at the end of the long table. The monks had brought in extra tables and benches to accommodate our guests. Sir Hugh was seated next to the abbot, and for a moment our eyes met and the look of hatred that I’d seen earlier at the stable flashed across his face. I quickly looked away. As I began my meal, I sensed someone at my side and looked up to see Sir Thomas standing there with his plate and cup.

  “Might I join you, Tristan?” he said.

  “Of course, sire, no need to ask,” I said as he sat down across the table from me.

  “So, young Tristan, you show yourself to be an able lad. Quick of mind and handy with your voluminous chores,” Sir Thomas said.

  “Thank you, sire.” I blushed somewhat, not used to receiving compliments. The brothers were kind enough for the most part, but not free with praise.

  “I’m wondering when you are planning to take your vows,” he said.

  “Vows, sire? Oh. No. I do not plan to join the order.”

  “Really? Interesting. So what are your plans then? You must be, what? Nearly fifteen? If you’ve no interest in the priesthood, what will you do?”

  Sir Thomas’ boldness unsettled me somewhat. How had he so easily guessed my age? Why was he so interested in my future?

  “Well, sire. Of course I have thought about it. I mean, I would like to travel to see places. Other places than here, I mean. I don’t know exactly how I will do that yet, but…Sire, if I may? Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious. Travel, you say. I can understand that. Wanted to see the world myself when I was your age. However, you’ll need a way to support yourself, some type of job,” he said.

  “Yes, sire. I suppose that’s true,” I said.

  “Well, maybe I can help with that. We’re riding on to Dover in the morning to rendezvous with the rest of our regimento. As soon as our ships return, we’ll resupply and leave for Outremer.”

  “Outremer, sire?” I asked.

  “Yes, we Templars refer to the Holy Land as Outremer. It means ‘the land beyond the sea.’ So I’m wondering, lad, how would you like to come with me in service as my squire?” He looked at me expectantly.

  For a moment, his words did not register. I must have looked a fool as I stared at Sir Thomas in openmouthed wonderment. He had offered me something I could scarcely comprehend: a life outside the abbey.

  “I beg pardon…sire…Excuse me…What?” I asked.

  Sir Thomas laughed easily. “I believe you heard me, lad. I saw no evidence of deafness in you this afternoon. So what will it be?” His eyes sparkled as he watched me struggle with the enormity of his offer.

  Looking down the table, I saw Sir Hugh studying us, his face pinched in concentration as if he were trying to learn what it was Sir Thomas had said to me.

  “Sire, I thank you,” I finally replied, “but I cannot leave St. Alban’s.”

  “Why not? I have spoken to the abbot and he approves if you agree. I have learned much about you, young man. Since you won’t be joining the order, you’ll have to leave this place soon anyway. What better way than as a squire to a Templar Knight? You will travel, see the world and serve a noble cause. Not many are given this opportunity.” Sir Thomas dutifully ate from his plate of stew and bread, not looking at me while he spoke.

  “I’m sorry, sire, but I have duties. There is much work to do in the garden and…”

  Sir Thomas interrupted. “And the timing is perfect, as I am in need of a squire. Mine has recently left the Order, returning to his family home to assist his ill father. You would do me a great service by accepting.”

  I was speechless. How could I make such a decision? Give up the only life I’d ever known?

  “It won’t be easy,” he continued. “The work is hard and dangerous. We are on our way to war. Make no mistake about that, lad. But you’ll be well trained. I will teach you all I know about the art of battle. It will be a grand adventure.”

  The brothers often told me that God works in mysterious ways. That his divine presence surrounds us always and that he grants us what we need when we need it most. Did he send Sir Thomas to the abbey at the time that I most needed this opportunity?

  Sir Thomas’ eyes twinkled and his smile was genuine. In that moment, I felt that I had made a friend for life. Glancing down the table and seeing Sir Hugh frowning back at me, though, I became aware that I had also made an enemy.

  4

  I began my evening chores with cleanup duty in the kitchen. I wished to finish my duties quickly, as I had promised to groom Sir Thomas’ horse and did not wish to disappoint him. Brother Rupert was the monk who did most of the kitchen work at St. Alban’s. He was from France and an excellent cook. He was also the person I felt closest to after Brother Tuck.

  We stood at a wooden table in the kitchen, clearing the leftover food from the evening meal into a slop bucket from which it would be fed to the pigs and goats. Nothing went to waste at the abbey.

  “I hear you have news, Tristan,” he said. I was not surprised by this. Gossip traveled quickly among the monks.

  “I do,” I said, proceeding to tell him of Sir Thomas’ offer. “What should I do, Brother Rupert?”

  “First, I would instruct you to pray. Ask God for guidance. But in the end you can do only what is in your heart.”

  I was very fond of Brother Rupert, but most of the time his answer to all of life’s questions was more prayer. I wasn’t sure praying was going to make my decision any easier. I had no idea what my heart was telling me.

  Once finished in the kitchen, I headed outside to the stables. Though most of the spring rains were over, it could still grow chilly in the evenings. I wondered what the weather might be like in Outremer.

  Sir Thomas’ offer had unsettled me. My first reaction had been that I could not leave the abbey. What would the brothers do without me? I was almost fifteen years old. In truth I should have left the abbey last year. It was only the kind hearts of the brothers that had kept me there. If I left the abbey with Sir Thomas, I would be on my own for the first time. I was not afraid of the work, but the uncertainty gave me pause. What if I discovered I didn’t like being a squire? Then what? Return to the abbey as a failure?

  Unless I took vows, I couldn’t stay here forever. And I had no desire to become a monk. I wanted something more. Thoughts of adventure and excitement began to creep into my mind.

  Then there was the danger. Sir Thomas had spoken of it. A Templar Knight fought, and there was no question the work would be hazardous. Would I be up to the task? All of these thoughts were jumbled up in my mind.

  In the dark stables, the small oil lamp I carried gave off just enough light for me to see. I sat it on a barrel near the stall beside Sir Thomas’ horse. Taking a soft rag, I began rubbing down the horse’s flanks. He tossed his head from side to side as if he appreciated my efforts. After working over each side, I refilled his hay.

  Sir Hugh’s stallion was finally calm and content. I tried rubbing him down as well, but he did not enjoy the attention. Perhaps he was not yet fully broken to the saddle.

  I checked the bandage on his leg and found it secure. Then a feeling came over me that I was being watched. Suddenly the oil lamp went out and the stable was plung
ed into complete darkness.

  At first I thought a gust of wind had blown out the flame, but the stable was eerily quiet, and I definitely felt the presence of someone else.

  “Hello,” I said to the darkness. “Who’s there?”

  No answer.

  Without the light of the lamp it was impossible to see anything. I thought I heard the squeak of a leather boot and the slightest clink of metal.

  “Sir Thomas? Is that you?”

  Still no answer. The skin along my neck and shoulders began to tingle. Something was wrong.

  As my eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the stables, I thought I saw the outline of a figure in the stable doorway.

  Though I knew the layout of the stable by heart, I stepped cautiously across the dirt floor toward the door. Feeling about in the darkness, I picked up the oil lamp, intending to return to the abbey to relight it from the fireplace in the kitchen. Just as I was about to exit, I felt a sharp blow to the back of my shoulders that drove me to my knees. I cried out in agony, falling facedown into the dirt.

  I tried to regain my hands and knees, but as I did, I felt a boot connect with my ribs. I let out a loud yell then, hollering for the brothers. But the stable rested a long way from the abbey, and it was unlikely I would be heard.

  The next blow knocked me sideways into the wall, driving the air from my lungs. I groaned, trying to cry out, but couldn’t gather my breath.

  Still unable to see anything but shadows, and sensing another blow coming, I pulled myself up, using the wall for support. Knowing that my adversary couldn’t see well either, my familiarity with the stables was my only advantage. I thought of trying to run out the door, but felt that he stood between me and escape. So instead, I dropped back to my hands and knees and scrambled across the floor into the stall that held Sir Hugh’s stallion.

  He didn’t like me sharing his space and began prancing and making noise. I had hoped this would happen. If I could excite the horses enough, the noise they made would give me enough cover to escape from the stable in the darkness. I rose up next to the horse and made a whinnying sound. It drove him crazy, as he believed another stallion had entered his territory. He began to whinny and snort, kicking at the sides of the stall.