Alexander, who had already set his horse in motion, checked it again. “Cup? Did you say a precious cup?”

“Aye. A cup all gold and jewels, Brother Peter says, and came from somewhere out East, maybe even from Jerusalem! Imagine that, here in this valley of ours! Some foreign kind of name they gave it, but I couldn’t rightly say what.”

“A grail? Was that the word?”

“Grail? Grail? Aye, it could be that, if that’s a kind of cup.”

“And this grail is to be kept at the monastery down yonder?”

The man showed no surprise at Alexander’s sudden interest; no doubt he took it for the fervour of a devout Christian.

“Indeed, sir. But I doubt if you’ll get to see it. They’ve got it locked away, seemingly, till –”

“Yes, yes. But tell me, you said it was brought here last week? With a royal party?”

“As to that, I don’t know about royal, but they were grand folks, nobility, John said, good horses, and a train of servants, and a lady in a litter with silk curtains, and I don’t know what besides.”

“A lady,” said Alexander thoughtfully. “A lady brought this treasure with her?”

“That’s so, but it’s not really a gift, they say. It’s to be housed here for a while for safe keeping, that’s all. But to have such a treasure here, in our valley, why, there’ll be a mort of folks coming this way for that alone, and even a house like mine’ll profit from it!”

“Is the lady – is the royal party still here?”

“Aye. But there’s room and to spare for travellers, young master, and you’ll be made welcome, no fear of that!”

“Well, thanks. Here’s for your goodwill, landlord. I’ll be on my way.”

“God speed, young master, and a good night’s rest to you.”

The monastery lay, as was usual with such places, deep in the shelter of the valley where a river curved through pasture and woodland. It was a big place, seemingly important enough to have several courtyards, and its own farm buildings set among tilled fields and orchards. A mill-wheel turned in the river, and a sluice-gate let water through to feed a stewpond within the monastery walls.

Alexander, letting his tired horse make its own pace downhill towards the gate, saw it with satisfaction. He would have a comfortable night, and – by a stroke of luck that was barely believable, but the man had been positive about it – come within sight of his quest far sooner than he would have thought possible. He would hardly be able to lay hands on the grail while it was in the monastery’s safe keeping, but if Nimuë was travelling south with it, and seeking the monastery’s protection only while she rested on her journey, he might at the least have speech with her, or with some of her party, and find out from one of them where they were taking the treasure. And if he could by some ruse attach himself to her train, some sort of chance might come …