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through the trees. There before us was the shore. It gave me pause to look again upon the ocean that had spit me out not so long ago. I took no joy in being near the water again.
    We weren’t hungry, but we built a fire, and its light and warmth did much to improve my mood. No one spoke much; we were all too tired to talk. Angel found a spot close to the fire, curled up and was soon fast asleep.
    It was time for me to carefully examine the contents of my satchel, and I was pleased to see that everything, although damp, had survived with little damage. On the second day aboard ship I’d wrapped Sir Thomas’ letter and the note I brought from the abbey in oilskin to protect them from the dampness. They were wet, but both were still readable and would likely dry out in fine shape. Even my blue woolen blanket had made it through.
    With Maryam and Robard close by I couldn’t inspect the Grail, but Robard had shot an arrow through the satchel at very close range when we were back in Outremer and it had survived without a scratch. The Grail had likely survived being bounced about in the waves. I would check on it later, when I had time alone.
    Staring at the flames, I worried about Celia, remembering how I had been followed by the King’s Guards in Dover. They had shadowed me through the marketplace and had taken some strange interest in me. I had no idea what they wanted. But they acted with impunity. Powerful men like kings and archbishops always had plenty of soldiers and thieves to do their bidding. It wasn’t fair.
    The fire helped me relax, and I realized how tired I was. Maryam was stifling yawns as well. Robard volunteered to take the first watch, so I lay down next to the fire and closed my eyes, asleep in seconds.
    Robard shook me awake a few hours later. He had banked the coals and the fire glowed. The warmth was comforting in the chill of the night as I held my hands over it, still feeling groggy and sore, and wincing at any movement of my still aching muscles.
    Instead of keeping a sharp eye for anyone who came our way, I squatted close to the fire and closed my eyes for a few minutes. In my dream, the humming sound of the Grail came to me again. It pulled me up from the darkest depths of sleep, and when my eyes opened, its song was replaced by Angel’s low growl. Maryam and Robard were still asleep, but it was nearly daybreak. Scrambling to my knees, I searched the surrounding woods, feeling like I had just awoken from a bad dream. Angel snarled again, louder this time, and stood, teeth bared, staring into the darkness.
    â€œBonjour,” a voice said quietly from behind me.
    I jumped in the air and my hand clutched the hilt of my sword as I spun around.
    There on the beach a few yards from the fire was a large force of mounted horsemen. They were all dressed in black tunics with gold crosses on the chest. Each of them was heavily armed with sword, lance and shield. At the head of the column rode a very tall, resplendent-looking man wearing the same black tunic but with a golden cape, rimmed with white fur, around his shoulders. His beard was neatly trimmed, and in the gathering light I could see his dark hair and black, cold eyes. He wore a very large ring made of gold on his right hand. He was a priest or monsignor of some rank. Having grown up around monks, I still thought it odd to find a man of God in command of troops. But it was not an uncommon practice. Celia had made mention of an archbishop who was angry with her, and it appeared he had sent his most trusted priest to track her down.
    He stared down at me with an expression on his face I couldn’t quite place at first, then did. Amusement. He dismounted and strode toward the fire until he stood just a few feet away. Angel did not like his uninvited invasion of our camp. She growled again, moving between me and the stranger.
    â€œLooks to be a ferocious dog. Does he bite?” the man asked.
    I nodded.
    He chose to ignore