Michael Spradlin: Orphan of Destiny

“Help,” I said. “I’m hoping I’ll find help.”

The way our luck had gone, we almost expected Robard to be captured by King’s Guards or Sir Hugh’sknights. Maryam and I, already on the road to Dover, would be forced to divert to where he was being held and attempt another rescue or offer Sir Hugh the Grail in exchange for his life.

However, our luck held. Maryam and I departed for Dover soon after Robard left. My wound made it impossible for us to maintain any sort of reasonable pace. Still, it was good to be on our way. Walking was exhausting, but I hoped the exercise would help me heal faster. Robard found us the following morning, camped a short distance inland from the coast.

Robard had procured two horses, both rouncies, a chestnut gelding and a roan mare. They appeared to be reasonably well trained and even tempered, though they were thin and small, unlikely to win any races.

“Only two?” Maryam asked.

“We’re lucky to have them,” Robard explained. “We only have a few crosslets left. But don’t worry, Assassin, you can ride with me.”

“Ha,” Maryam said, surprising us both by swinging up on the back of the mare. “You can ride with me!”

“I told the courser I was up from Portsmouth, seeking mounts for the retinue of my thane. He wasn’t much of a talker, but if he gets asked about any strangers, he’ll at least send them in the wrong direction,” Robard said, tossing me the money sack. I was relieved to find Sir Thomas’ ring still there. Robard helped me mount the gelding, then leapt easily behind Maryam on the mare and we were quickly under way.

Robard’s mood had improved greatly since we’d arrived in England. In Outremer and even in France he was often gruff and angry. Obviously he was more comfortable traveling here. And we discovered more about our friend every day. For someone who claimed to be a poor farmer, he knew his way around the world. He had left us, found a courser and returned quickly, ready for whatever next steps we needed to take. His eagerness was nearly infectious.

We sat astride our horses, gazing down at the city of Dover, having ridden in through the hills to the south. Though it had been less than a year since I’d left it, the change was dramatic. What had been a busy, bustling seaport was now eerily quiet.

“Does anyone know what today is?” I asked.

“No idea,” Robard and Maryam answered almost simultaneously.

“Why?” Robard asked.

“I just wondered. The town appears empty, as if it were Sunday, or a saints’ day, which might explain why it is so quiet,” I said.

My horse shifted under me and my eyes worked over the city below. When I’d first arrived in Dover, the marketplace was full of people and merchants. Now most of the carts and stalls stood empty, with perhaps a quarter of the merchants hawking their wares. I spotted the spire of St. Benedict’s, the church where I had left my horse Charlemagne upon first arriving here with Sir Thomas and the knights. Above the Commandery, the brown and white Templar banner flew, but the training fields behind it were empty.

“What next, Tristan?” Maryam asked.

“I’m not sure. Something has drastically changed. It is not the Dover I remember. It was lively, and full of travelers and merchants and soldiers. This Dover looks nearly dead.”

“Then I say we skip our way around it and head north to Scotland. The sooner you’re rid of that satchel, the better for all of us,” Robard said. We sat there in silence for a while, watching the town below. I knew they were both waiting for me to take action.

“Tristan? Have you figured this all the way through yet?” Maryam finally asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

For a moment I felt myself tense. Since I had regained my senses, I had yet to tell Maryam or Robard what the Queen Mother had said to me in the courtyard. But I wondered if they had overheard her or if in my delirium I had revealed something. I was keeping another secret from them. It wasn’t right.

“Sir Hugh. The Grail. He wants it at any cost. Do you really think handing it over to a priest in Scotland is going to stop him?” she asked.

“The Assassin is right,” Robard said. “He won’t stop. Even if you give it over to this Father William, he’ll try to capture you or one of us and hold us hostage until you tell him where it is or until you retrieve it and trade it to him in exchange for our lives. Getting your vase to Scotland is the least of your worries.”

“It’s not a vase,” I complained. But Robard was right. They both were.

“You understand what this means, don’t you?” Robard asked.

I did, but had no desire to say it.

“He will hurt anything and everything close to you until he has what he wants,” Robard went on. “It would almost be better if we found him and you let me kill him for you. He’s a despicable scoundrel and I wouldn’t mind.” Robard was trying to be light-hearted about it, but he was also serious in his offer.

“I’m trying not to kill anyone, Robard,” I said. Though my words sounded hollow, I doubted even a knight as honorable as Sir Thomas would fault me if Robard were able to put an arrow in Sir Hugh’s heart from a hundred paces. Without another word, I turned my horse west and took off at a trot, but I quickly slowed the horse to a walk when the pain in my side made it impossible to keep going. In a moment they caught up to me.

“Where are we going?” he asked. “Scotland lies to the north.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of Scotland’s location. But there may be help for us here. Let’s wait until dark. Tonight we’ll pay a visit to Dover,” I said.

Following a trail leading inland, Robard found a dense thicket where the horses could be safely hobbled for the night. It wasfed by a small stream so the animals would have water, and the woods were so thick that it was unlikely our mounts would be discovered until we returned. I had advised we wait until nightfall before we entered the city, so with little else to do, each of us took turns standing watch and sleeping beneath the gently swaying trees.

At sundown, I nudged Robard with my boot. He had been softly snoring by the fire and came awake instantly. He started several different arguments all at once. “Why are we wasting time in Dover? We should be heading for Scotland straightaway. Why are we leaving the horses? What if we need to make a quick getaway? What then?” And so on. I instantly wished I’d left him asleep and ignored him for as long as possible, but the archer wouldn’t stop until I finally countered his numerous opinions.

“Ideally we won’t have to make a quick getaway. I just want to scout around. Maybe we can discover where Sir Hugh is and what his plans are. If we know where he is, it’s to our advantage. He won’t be able to sneak up on us. It’s better than blundering right into him unprepared. The horses will slow us down in town. I want to be able to move quickly and hide if necessary. It’s much harder to hide on a horse.”

“I would think it would depend on the horse,” he said, his eyes darting at me as he spoke.

“What? What would depend on the horse? You. . stop. . That doesn’t even make sense,” I stammered.

“Sure it does. I have been working on it during the ride, teaching my horse how to hide successfully,” he joked. Maryam couldn’t help but laugh.

I sighed in exasperation.

“How long is this going to take?” he asked. “I’m eager to reach Sherwood. The sooner we deliver your pottery, the faster I’ll be home and sleeping in my own bed.”

“I have no idea,” I said. “It will take as long as it takes. And it’s not ‘pottery,’ it is the Holy Cup of the Savior and the most sacred relic in the world. You shouldn’t be so blasphemous.”