Trail of Fate

Table of Contents

 

 

 

 

The soldier closest to me caught me looking behind him and looked back to find Maryam leading the family away. He cursed and his companion immediately took off toward them.

“Maryam! Look out!” I shouted.

She looked back to see the soldier closing fast.

As the soldier approached, she ululated in her horrible Hashshashin war cry and drew her daggers, waiting for his charge as he came at her, sword high.

The other soldier raised his sword and charged me. I quickly darted between the buildings and raced around the far corner, with him fast behind me. I wanted him to chase me, for I was afraid if I stood and fought, he could easily defeat me before the woman and her children could hide. I ran quickly around the building and tried to circle back on him.

I waited. Then a shadow fell across the ground, coming slowly toward the corner. When it was close enough, I jumped out, swinging with all my might.

Mossflower
Brian Jacques
Prince Across the Water
Jane Yolen and
Robert Harris
Ranger's Apprentice: The Ruins of Gorlan
John Flanagan
Ranger's Apprentice: The Burning Bridge
John Flanagan
Redwall
Brian Jacques
Stormbreaker
Anthony Horowitz
The Youngest Templar: Keeper of the Grail
Michael P. Spradlin

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Registered Offices: Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

First published in the United States of America by G. P. Putnam's Sons, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2009

Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2010

Copyright © Michael Spradlin, 2009 Map illustration © Mike Reagan, 2008 All rights reserved

 

THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGED THE G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS EDITION AS FOLLOWS:
Spradlin, Michael P.
Trail of fate / by Michael P. Spradlin ; [map illustration by Mike Reagan].
p. cm.—(The youngest Templar ; bk. 2)

Summary: In the Middle Ages, young squire Tristan of the Knights Templar, King's Archer Robard, and Muslim assassin Maryam work together to protect the Holy Grail as they travel across France toward England, a journey that takes them to the Cathar fortress of Montségur.

eISBN : 978-1-101-49487-5

[ 1. Knights and knighthood—Fiction. 2. Grail—Fiction. 3. Albigenses—Fiction. 4. Middle Ages—Fiction. 5. France—History—Philip II Augustus, 1180-1223—Fiction.]

I. Title
PZ7.S7645Tr 2009
[Fic]—dc22 2008052888

 

 

Text set in Centaur MT.

 

 

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Once again, I find myself overwhelmed by the support, hard work and dedication so many people have given to this book. It truly is a collaborative effort, and I'm very lucky to have such a tremendous number of resources to draw from.

Thanks to my agent, Steven Chudney, for always keeping me on track. Thanks to my editor Timothy Travaglini and the rest of the brilliant Penguin team: Nancy Paulsen, Erin Dempsey, Lisa DeGroff, Courtney Wood, Jillian Laks, Scottie Bowditch, RasShahn Johnson-Baker, Kim Lauber, Shauna Fay and Jessica Kaufman. And I definitely can't forget my sales guys: Mary-Margaret Callahan, Allan Winebarger, Holly Ruck, Jackie Engel, Ev Taylor, John Dennany, Biff Donovan, Sheila Hennesey, Doni Kay, Todd Jones, Nicole White, Alex Genis, Colleen Conway, Jill Bailey, Steve Kent, Nicole Davies, Annie Hurwitz, Mary Raymond, Donna Peterson and Jana Fruh. I, more than anyone, know how important you all are to the success of any book. I'm a lucky author to have mine in your hands.

Thanks again to Christopher Moore and Meg Cabot for being unbelievably kind. My appreciation also goes to Stephen Dafoe for his support and encouragement. My colleagues Elise Howard, Lisa Gallagher, Liate Stehlik, Carrie Kania, Mike Brennan, Josh Marwell, Brian Murray and Carla Parker, I couldn't do it without you, and I wouldn't want to try.

Thanks to my wife, Kelly, for doing everything. All the time. Without fail. My son, Mick, of whom I couldn't be prouder, and my daughter, Rachel, who is an inspiration to everyone who meets her for even five seconds. Thanks to my mom, Vi Spradlin, for mom-type support, and my sisters, Regina and Connie, for sister-type encouragement. I love you all so much.

The room was full of bright light with a glare so intense that I closed my eyes. A long table draped in a pure white linen cloth sat in the middle of the room. In the center of the table sat the Grail. It was out of my reach, and having it so far away made me nervous.

Sir Thomas sat quietly at the far end of the table, dressed in his familiar white tunic with a bright red cross across his chest. Smiling, he bade me to sit in a chair next to me. I sat.

Sir Thomas spoke. “You've done well, lad.”

I snorted.

“Sire, I have failed. Completely. I did what you asked. I made it safely to Tyre and found a ship, but a storm rose up, and now I have drowned and the Grail is lost with me,” I said, bowing my head, ashamed to have disappointed him.

“Tristan?”

I looked up.

“You've not failed me. The Grail is safe, as you can see,” he said.

Glancing at the chalice on the table, I shook my head, knowing I should not be in this room. I was drowning in the sea, and the Grail would perish with me. How could Sir Thomas say I had not failed? The only thing worse would have been for Sir Hugh to have taken it from me.

“Sir Thomas, I have no idea how I came to be here, but this is not right. The Grail has sunk to the bottom of the sea, and me with it. I am sorry, sire. Very truly sorry.”

He smiled and the white light of the room surrounded him. I heard a familiar humming sound, but now, instead of coming from the Grail, the noise surrounded me from all directions.

“Do not worry, lad,” Sir Thomas said. “You are safe. The Grail is safe.”

“Sire . . . ,” I replied, but Sir Thomas was no longer there, just the light and the sound.

My chair was gone and I was standing again, the Grail still in the center of the table. I grasped at it, but it remained out of reach. Sir Thomas now appeared beside me, holding a bucket of water in his hands. He said nothing, but dumped the bucket over my head, causing me to choke and sputter.

“Sir Thomas . . . what . . . ,” but he was gone again.

The room shifted and I was thrown to the floor. Sir Thomas stood above me with another bucket of water. This time he threw it directly in my face and I swallowed a great deal of it. It tasted salty. When I looked up again, Sir Thomas was gone.

What had happened to me? Why didn't he help me? I needed to reach the Grail and he was interfering. Was this some kind of test? Had I failed again?

I struggled to my feet, but the room was unsteady, as if some giant had picked it up and delighted in shaking it about. I lurched across the floor and crashed into the table. The Grail wobbled back and forth. Oh no.

In vain I tried to clamor forward. If I could reach it, I would secure it in my satchel where it would be safe until I figured a way out of this room. Then I would find the giant shaking it and slay it with my sword.