The Handoff

Thibaud rode into the courtyard and dismounted in front of the rigorous construction of Amiens Cathedral. A page came out to help him with his saddle bags and to take the horse into the stables. He had ridden a long way.  Thibaud’s chain mail clinked as he rushed into the buttressed open space inside the church. His cape was blazoned with the red cross known to all. He must be quick; his package was of the utmost importance and must be handed over before anyone suspected.

Jacques was waiting for him near the altar. They were dressed identically and appeared as if they were part of the décor of the beautiful, yet unfinished vaults. Thibaud embraced Jacques as a brother. His life had been spent serving with Jacques and now, after today, he would never see him again.

Thibaud handed the worn leather bag over to Jacques. “It is yours now”, Thibaud’s said, his beard grey and unkempt. “I trust you will take care of this as I have.” Jacques took the bag and said, “With my life, I will guard this and keep it from evil hands.” Thibaud turned to walk out to his horse, resigned to his fate he smiled back at Jacques. Jacques ran out the back and mounted his riding horse. As he rode into the night, he could hear the shouts of the arresting guards who would take Thibaud to be tried and burned. “I must escape”, thought Jacques.

After an hour’s ride, Jacques stopped to rest and allow his horse to drink by the river. He could not wait to see his package. As he opened the leather bag, a glow seemed to emanate from the inside. He reached in and pulled out a chalice, worn and tarnished, yet somehow wonderfully brilliant.