Michael Spradlin - Keeper of the Grail

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.

Relief washed over me as I reached down and clutched the Grail with both hands. The dog slowly rolled over on its back, its paws in the air, giving a small yip. I was nearly in tears, but I gave her a rub on the belly. I unwrapped the linen covering to make sure it was the same Grail I had seen a few nights ago, and offered up a prayer of thanks.

“Good girl,” I said. The dog snorted and huffed, but clearly loved the belly rub. “Good girl.” She licked my hand, then stood looking at me expectantly.

Dumping out the contents of the satchel I placed the Grail in the secret compartment. Scooping everything back inside, I grabbed the torch, heading back the way I’d come. The dog fell into step alongside me. I stopped.

“Stay, girl. You can’t come with me.”

The dog sat on its haunches looking at me expectantly. Her face was a mass of fluffy golden hair. Her kind, intelligent eyes were dark brown and never wavered from my own.

“I can’t take you along, pup,” I said.

I started up the alley and once more the dog trailed right along beside me. I stopped again and she promptly sat. I started. So did the dog.

“Girl, stay!” I said, trying to keep my voice down, but growing a little impatient.

I broke into a trot up the alley and she loped easily along at my side. Nothing I tried worked. It looked like I had gained another companion.

Robard and Maryam were right where I had left them, standing on either side of the alley, keeping an eye on the street. They both looked at me as I approached the alley entrance. Robard spotted the dog first.

“What is that?” he asked.

“A dog.”

“I can see that! What are you doing with it?” he said.

“I believe it is more what she is doing with me,” I answered. “I tried to get her to stay, but she seems convinced that she needs to come with us.”

Robard snorted, but Maryam knelt, scratching the mutt behind the ears and laughing as the dog jumped at her, licking her face. It was the first time I had heard Maryam giggle like that.

“Any sign of Sir Hugh’s men?” I asked.

“None,” Robard replied.

“Let’s get moving. We need to get to the docks,” I said.

Maryam rose, and with no one in sight we moved out of the alley. She led us down a cobblestone pathway where we cut through another alley. Moving back and forth through the twisting, turning streets it was not long before I was horribly lost. The whole time the dog trotted along beside us, perfectly content to be in our company.

The city was quiet at night, but I heard the sounds of people as we passed by taverns and houses. Laughter and shouts escaped into the darkness, mixing with the spicy smells of cooking fires. It was a pleasant contrast to the busy activity during the daylight hours.

Finally we exited an alley and before us lay the waterfront. It was a shabby-looking place with a few decrepit buildings running directly along the shore. A long wooden dock jutted out into the water perpendicular to the street. A single longboat was moored to it. Out in the bay I saw several ships lying at anchor, bobbing gently in the moonlit waves.

Flashing back to my first sea voyage to Outremer, I did not relish getting on a ship again. My stomach lurched at the thought. But a ship would get me home faster and relieve me of the Grail. Taking the overland route would take months and was rife with danger. Added to that was the fact that I had no idea how to even find the overland route and my options were limited. I needed a ship.

“What now?” asked Maryam.

In reality, I had no idea. I had hoped to find the waterfront in the daylight hours. Then I could have taken a careful assessment of the ships in the harbor, asking people on the docks who might provide us with a good vessel at a fair price. Now our situation was more desperate. Undoubtedly we had Sir Hugh and his men-at-arms searching the city for us. It was imperative to find a ship that could leave immediately.

“We’ll need to find a captain. My guess would be that we look there first.” I pointed to a run-down, dilapidated old building standing a few yards away. Light came through the windows, and I heard the buzz of voices rising and falling inside. A sign hanging above the door said “The Dancing Fig” in English with some Arabic words written underneath. It did not look inviting. The door burst open and a man staggered out, stumbling a few steps before falling face-first in the dirt. He lay there moaning a few moments, then clambered to his feet. Letting out a mighty belch he wandered off down the street.

Robard and Maryam looked at the building, then at each other, then at me. The dog gave out a low whine and flattened itself to the ground, whimpering and growling.