Luned’s words, and his own symbolic rejection of Morgan along with her flask of “magic” drugs, were for the moment forgotten. Tired as he was, it did not even occur to him that Nimuë might be travelling south to carry the precious cup herself to Arthur. The landlord’s words had come like a sudden stroke of fortune, a pointer, the touch of an enchanted wand. The grail, without his seeking, had crossed his path. Even had he already decided to abandon the quest, he would have been less than human to refuse even to look at it.

The chapel bell had stopped by the time he reached the gate, but the porter was there, and opened readily, pointing the way to the stableyard, beyond which, he said, lay the dormitory for male travellers. Supper? Indeed there would be supper. My lord (this with an expert, summing glance at the horse’s trappings and the glint of gold at the young man’s belt and sword-hilt) would be served in the refectory below the dormitory. Brother Magnus, who looked after the travellers, would show him the way. There would be supper served as soon as vespers was over. No doubt my lord would wish, later, to attend compline?

My lord wished only to eat, and to bespeak a bed, but he knew what was expected of guests in such a place, and besides, it was very probable that the grail’s guardians, too, would attend the service, so he assented, and, having seen his horse into the care of a lay-brother, made his way to the quarters reserved for the monastery’s guests.

As it turned out, he ate alone, but for a couple of other travellers on their way to Glannaventa to take ship for Ireland. They were foreigners, speaking only some outlandish Irish tongue, so he could not question them about the royal party, which presumably had supped earlier.

The supper was plain, but good, broth followed by a hot, thick stew with fresh-baked bread, and some sort of fish dish flavoured with herbs. After supper Alexander went to see how his horse fared, and found him comfortably housed, blanketed and busy at a full manger. Sharing the big stable-building with him were three sleek palfreys which must belong to the monastery, along with two span of sturdy working mules. No sign of the other party’s beasts; they were in the other stable – the one normally used for guests – and in the charge of the party’s own grooms and serving men. They had left no room for the young lord’s horse, so said the lay-brother who worked as groom, but the young lord need have no fear; his horse would be as well cared for as the abbot’s own.

This was plainly true. Alexander, thanking him, put a couple of hesitant queries about the other party, but met with no satisfaction. As to that, said the lay-brother, he knew nothing about them, except that one of their number – a young boy destined for noviceship – would stay after the party left. They had all, the lady and the rest, attended all the services; it seemed they were devout folks – (devout? the queen-enchantress Nimuë?) – so no doubt if the young lord meant to attend compline, he would have a chance to see them there, and maybe have speech with them afterwards. And no, he could not accept a gift for himself, but if the young lord would perhaps leave something in the offertory, God would bless the gift … And there was the chapel bell.