Orphan of Destiny (22 page)

“Should we try to leave?” Robard whispered.

“I don’t think so. The Earl might be insulted. Let’s try to get some sleep and worry about it in the morning,” I said.

But I did not sleep. I half expected another clan to arrive and murder us all in our sleep. The horses the Earl and his men rode looked loaded with plunder, and someone must have been after them. Finally sleep overtook me and I remembered Little John’s admonition: “For every friend you make in Scotland, you make an enemy of someone else.”

I slept fitfully, waking every few minutes to keep an eye on my new “friends.”

Something nudged me awake. I looked up to see a boot attached to a leg. Then I heard the words “It’s mornan’. Gie up.” What? It didn’t make sense. Did someone say it was time for soup? It was not even dawn yet.

When I came fully awake, I found the boot belonged to the Earl. He repeated the words, and by now, I was awake enough to understand. He had said it was time to get up. We stood and found the Earl’s men already mounted up and prepared to ride. Hastily gathering our belongings, we too were ready to depart in a few moments.

The Earl climbed up on his own horse, a large black stallion. “Rosslyn’s tae th’ north.”

“He just said, ‘Rosslyn is north,’” Robard said, delighted he had deciphered the Earl’s announcement.

“I know. I heard him,” I said. We followed along behind the Earl but ahead of his column of men.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” Maryam asked.

“No. Yes. I don’t know. At first I thought not, but perhaps if he shows us the way to Rosslyn, we’ll be less likely to run into any trouble with his countrymen,” I said.

“Unless a bigger, meaner Scotsman with more men comes along,” Robard said.

“Thank you for mentioning that, Robard,” I replied sarcastically.

“I do what I am able,” he said.

We rode through the countryside all morning, and unlike us, the Earl rode through towns and villages with little thought. No one appeared to pay us any attention, but we did stand out, and I worried Sir Hugh would learn of our presence before long.

Shortly after midday we forded the River Esk and climbed up a tall promontory that I later learned the locals called Rosslyn Glen. It was a beautiful spot, with rolling hills that must have been magnificently green in summer. The sound of rushing water made the forest and the earth around us sound as if it were alive, with its own pulse and beating heart.

In the middle of the small village of Rosslyn stood the spire of a church steeple. I hoped it was the Church of the Holy Redeemer that Sir Thomas had instructed me to find. My heart sprang for joy at the thought.

Then as fast as my hopes had risen, they were dashed. Hanging from the gate of the village hung a Templar banner, and a half dozen Templars guarded the entrance.

Sir Hugh was waiting.

30

W
ell, this truly ruins a fine day,” Robard said, staring at the knights assembled below us. They were camped outside the town walls, with several tents and a cook fire blockading the village gate. Not far away their horses were hobbled and grazed quietly on the underbrush and grass.

The Earl and his men retreated a few paces out of sight of anyone watching from below.

They looked impatient to be on their way. Something told me the Earl was no longer on his lands and would likely find trouble with another clan if he delayed too long. He rode up beside me and offered his hand.

“Guid luck tae ye,” he said. As far as we go. We shook hands and I winced as he squeezed my hand with a death grip. Then we watched him and his men melt away into the trees.

“Lovely people,” Robard said.

“I expect it could have been worse,” I said.

“Sure, after all, they could have eaten us. Now instead we get to face Sir Hugh and a brace of Templars.” Robard often delighted in pointing out the many challenges of our situations.

“How does Sir Hugh keep finding us? How could he have known where you were headed?” Maryam asked as we returned to the top of the glen to study the town.

I couldn’t answer, because in finding him already here, I had come to a horrible conclusion. Someone in Sir Thomas’ inner circle must have been one of Hugh’s spies.

“I don’t know. When Sir Thomas entrusted the Grail to me, he spoke of a small circle of knights within the Order who knew of its existence. It had been their solemn duty to keep it safe. No one else, not even brother knights beyond those few, even knew it was real. But he must have suspected something or someone was unfaithful to their Code, or else he wouldn’t have instructed me to give it to a priest and not a fellow Templar.”

In truth, none of it mattered anymore. I would find Father William and do as Sir Thomas had ordered. Even if Sir Hugh had beaten us here, and even though it was a mystery how he was always able to stay a step ahead of us, it was time for this to be over.

“What now?” Robard asked.

“We wait until nightfall. I’ll sneak into the city and try to find out as much as I can about these knights, and whether Sir Hugh is holding any hostages. If I can find Father William, I can sneak him out of town and he can decide what to do with the Grail.”

“We won’t allow you to go in alone,” Robard said. But I ignored him.

It was approaching late afternoon. We found a copse of trees fed with a spring and watered the horses. The trees would keep us somewhat hidden, but I doubted Sir Hugh would be sending out scouts or setting pickets. He was waiting for me to come to him.

We spent anxious hours anticipating nightfall. Maryam sharpened her daggers on a stone, and Robard tended to his bow and inspected each of his shafts, and took the time to examine several bundles of arrows he had tied to the back of his saddle. I paced back and forth nervously while Angel slept.

“Why don’t we just leave?” Robard finally suggested. “We can go back to Sherwood. You’re both welcome to stay there as long as you like. Let Sir Hugh wait here until he grows old and feeble.” Maryam smiled when Robard mentioned returning to Sherwood, and her expression told me that when this was over, going back to her home in Outremer was no longer first on her list of things to do. For some reason, her look reminded me of Celia, and I thought how I would almost rather be back in France, penned inside Montségur, than freezing in the woods of Scotland.

I shook my head. “I can’t. Sir Thomas told me the Grail would be safe here. What if Sir Hugh is holding Father William against his will? What if he’s murdered him? I can’t just leave without knowing his fate.”

“So you’re going to go through with it?” Robard asked. “Try to sneak into the village after dark? Alone?”

“There’s no moon tonight. I’ll make my way in somehow and find out what has happened to Father William. If Sir Hugh is not holding him, I will try to persuade him to leave with me. If he is a hostage, I’ll return here and plan our next move.”

“You should let me go instead,” Maryam said. “I’m stealthier than you are.”

“You are, but you and Robard will likely need to rescue me when this plan fails,” I joked.

After sundown, I made myself ready. While waiting I’d thought long and hard about my next moves.

“It’s time,” I said.

“Tristan,” Robard said, “we should come with you.”

I shook my head no and Robard let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’ve come a long way. And you want to finish this on your own. I understand that. Just be careful. If you don’t succeed, if we are unable to rescue you, what should we do?”

“If I don’t come back, you two return to Sherwood. Forget about trying to rescue me. You’ve both done more than enough. If you’re right, Sir Hugh is waiting for us and it’s me he wants. If I can find Father William, I’ll try my best to sneak him out, but if I’m not back by morning, don’t wait for me. Get out of here and get to safety.”

“But Tristan,” Robard said, “what about the Grail?”

“I’ve done everything I can do, Robard. Sir Hugh and I will end this now and the Grail will be safe, or I will die defending it. This has gone on long enough.”

As I left my friends behind, I hoped they did not see in me what I felt then.

That if Sir Hugh waited for me in the town below, I might never see them again.

31

R
osslyn was likely the smallest village I had ever seen that was completely enclosed by a wall. It must have been because, as Little John said, the Scots were fighting someone most of the time and the wall had become a mandatory means of defense. If Rosslyn were populated by people like Earl McCullen, the wall made sense. Having seen the Earl and his men up close, I could imagine them on either side of such a barrier, attacking or defending.

It took some time for me to work my way down the hillside. I had circled the entire village from the safety of the forest, looking for a way in or out. There was a rear gate, opening onto a road leading to the north. Six knights guarded each entrance. There were no men on the eastern or western walls I could see, but I had to assume there were more inside the village, patrolling the streets or watching the church. I counted to five hundred to make sure, but no guards appeared on the parapets. Nor did the knights at each gate ever circle the perimeter. With no one standing watch on the walls, that could be my way in. Or it could be part of Sir Hugh’s plan to have intentionally left the battlements unguarded, hoping to draw me in. Perhaps he lacked the resources to guard every entrance. Ultimately it didn’t matter. I had to get inside.

The stone walls were approximately twelve feet tall. And that was my next obstacle. We had not brought any length of rope with us. I didn’t think I could climb the walls unaided. I retreated into the woods and came upon a brush pile where a field had been cleared for planting. It lay fallow, but there were several saplings and lengths of timbers lining it in a crude fencerow filled with haphazardly stacked tree stumps. I found a limb about six inches in diameter and about fourteen feet long. Using my short sword I chopped away the branches, making a crude ladder. I was far enough removed from the gates and didn’t think the knights would hear me. When I completed my alterations, I hoisted it up on my shoulder, delighted that it was light enough for me to carry.

I returned to the tree line facing the east wall. There was still no one in evidence on the parapets or the grounds below. Crouching as low to the ground as I could, I crept down the hill and toward the wall. It was an unwieldy gait, putting an excruciating strain on my wounded side, but I couldn’t risk dragging the tree for the noise it would make.

With luck I reached the base of the wall and propped my scaling ladder against it at a slight angle. I ascended the crude steps, climbing carefully. Halfway up, one of the branches could not support my weight and cracked loudly when I stepped on it. I fell against the trunk and thought I might totter over to the ground, but managed to brace myself. I waited a moment, fearing the noise must have attracted someone, but no one came, so I climbed on.

When I reached the top, I pulled the limb up and over the parapet and laid it against the wall so it would be there if I needed it for my escape. A nearby ladder on the inner side took me down inside the town. I drew my sword and made my way to the side of the closest building. I smelled livestock; it must have been a stable or livery of some kind. From this vantage point, I peered down the road toward the center of the village. Here and there a few torches were lighted, and dim light came through the windows of a few buildings.

Instinct warned me to be cautious. I waited, counting to a thousand before I moved again. My goal was to reach the church, but along the way, I would check every direction for a trap.

I studied the street before me for a good while. And for as long as I dared, I took my time, carefully circling, darting from shadow to shadow and finding whatever cover I could, keeping the spire of the church as my vantage point, and watching for guards or knights or anyone who might be lying in wait for me. But there was nothing suspicious. If they were there, they had done a masterful job of hiding themselves.

Finally, I worked my way to the church. How I hoped for a sign, anything to positively identify that this was where I was supposed to be. Words painted on the door would have been extremely helpful: TRISTAN, PLEASE DELIVER THE GRAIL HERE. Darting from building to building, I encircled the church trying to learn all of the ways in or out. For such a small village it was a good-size structure, and my guess was that it was also a place of worship for many who lived outside the town walls. However, it appeared to have only a single front door.

Cautiously, and as furtively as I was able, I made my way to the shadows of the front door. Taking a last quick look behind me, I lifted up on the heavy wooden door handle and pushed, hoping there would be no squeak of alarm from the hinges. I opened it just far enough to slip through.

Looking at my drawn sword, I felt a tremendous surge of guilt for entering a house of the Lord with a weapon in my hand and malice in my heart. But I offered up a quick prayer asking God to forgive this transgression, as I hoped he had forgiven so many others of mine, and asked him to understand I was here to do his work and that the sword might be necessary. I also asked him if we could discuss it later, as I was very busy at the moment.