'Good abbess,' said Bertrano, watching as Cait departed, 'I am Archbishop of Santiago de Compostela, and however much I might wish it was otherwise at this moment, all I have said of this matter is true. However loathsome it is to find myself in agreement with the commander, nevertheless, on my holy and sacred office, I do assure you of my veracity. But know that it is with a heavy and contrite heart that I do so.'

'Satisfied?' demanded de Bracineaux.

'You shall have the cup,' Annora repeated. 'I will deliver it to you following our last Holy Communion. You understand, I must allow the sisters of my order a chance to say farewell to the Sacred Vessel. The service will be held tonight at the convent, and we will bring the Holy Chalice tomorrow morning.'

'Splendid,' sighed the archbishop, much relieved. 'We will await this historic occasion with God's own patience.'

'Better still,' countered de Bracineaux, 'we will come and retrieve the relic, and save you the trouble of bringing it to us.'

'Thank you, but that will not be necessary,' the abbess declined. 'Instead, I will insist that you respect the hallowed tradition of our order which does not allow men to set foot within the boundaries of the convent.'

Cait glanced back as she opened the door to step outside. She heard Archbishop Bertrano say, 'Let it be as you say. Until tomorrow then.' And then she was through the door and away.

They were silent on the way back to the abbey. The short winter day ended, and picking their way along the trail in the deepening twilight was difficult work, so it was not until the moon rose and the stars came out that the way grew easier. Upon reaching the upper path, the abbess turned and waited for Cait to join her. 'You do not agree with my decision.'

'I did not say that,' Cait replied.

'No,' allowed Annora, 'but your silence is most eloquent. You think I am wrong to give it to them.'

'I do, yes.'

'Do you also see that I have no choice in the matter?' When Cait did not respond the abbess stopped walking. 'Listen to me, Caitriona; it is ordained. Oh, yes, I do believe so. Despite whatever you may think of the instruments God has chosen to perform this work, the fact remains: Archbishop Bertrano wrote a letter to the pope, who has entrusted the Templars to carry out his wishes.' She softened, placing a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. 'They would have come for the cup in any event.' Cait made to protest, but the abbess raised a hand in admonition. 'The pope is my superior before God. I must obey.'

'Regardless of the consequences?' Cait asked bitterly. 'I thought God had chosen me to be the next guardian of the cup.' She thrust her hands out to show the red welts on her wrists. 'I was chosen. That is what you said.'

'Caitriona, the ways of God are beyond reckoning. Even so, I know he is at work in this. We come to him with the shattered remains of our best intentions, and he gathers all the broken pieces, reforms and reshapes them, and makes them new according to his purposes. He is able to achieve his will in the world, never doubt it.'

There was nothing more to be said, so they continued in silence. The abbess knew the last stretch of the path along the fields, and moved quickly; Cait followed, her spirit in turmoil. True, she had already decided that she could not become the next Guardian of the Chalice; yet she was far from prepared to see de Bracineaux get his profaning hands on the sacred object. She did not see how she could prevent that now. The abbess had spoken and that was that.

Although night was hurrying on, and they were cold, hungry, and exhausted from their long climb, upon their return to the abbey the abbess bade Cait to sound the bell to gather the sisters. When they were all assembled in the refectory, Annora announced, 'Tonight a strange and portentous thing has happened. The Archbishop of Santiago de Compostela has arrived in the village with a charge from His Holiness the Pope to take possession of our Blessed Cup.' A fretful murmur coursed through the assembled nuns. 'As abbess of this order, I am sworn to obey, and have pledged my assent to the pope's wishes.'

Some of the sisters took this hard. They raised their voices and stretched out their hands, pleading to know if there was not some other way. The abbess turned a deaf ear to their cries. 'Peace, dear sisters,' Annora continued. 'Cease your pleading and have faith. All shall be well. I have requested a last communion with the cup, and it has been granted. Each sister will partake of the cup this night. Now, I want all of you to go and wash, and put on your best habits; let us pay a reverent and joyful farewell to the Holy Cup we have protected so long.'

The sisters did as they were told, and were soon gathering in the yard outside the refectory, each with a candle to light the way to the chapel. The gently flickering gleam on the snow mirrored the heavens as the nuns stood waiting. One of the sisters began to sing, and all quickly joined in, their voices ringing in the crisp, cold air. They sounded like a heavenly choir, Cait thought, as the angelic sound swirled up and up into the moon-bright sky.

When all were assembled, the abbess led them to the chapel cut into the rock of the mountain. They processed along the deep-shadowed passages, the song echoing down unseen corridors and walls round about, until they entered the cavernous sanctuary where they silently formed a wide circle around the altar.

After lighting the altar candles, the abbess turned to the nuns and said, 'Beloved Sisters in Christ, for generations beyond counting our order has remained faithful to its calling. Tonight, our long vigil of obedience is at an end. Tomorrow we will deliver Our Lord's Sacred Chalice to the agents of the pope, and a new day of God's grace will dawn.'

These words brought tears to the eyes of many of the older nuns, and a gentle sniffling could be heard around the candlelit ring.

'Though the cup shall no longer form the centre point of our life here in the abbey, nevertheless life will go on. What our duty shall be, we cannot yet tell. But I know that whatever is given us, we will strive to serve God with the same humility and faith that have distinguished our order from its beginning to this day.

'My dear sisters, your tears show that you have borne your duty with loving hearts, and this is right and good. But do not give in to sorrow; rather let your hearts be glad. For surely, this is the long-awaited sign that the Day of the Lord is upon us; our redemption is drawing near.'

Here the old abbess turned to face the altar; she knelt briefly, and then approached the great golden cross which occupied the altar top. Placing her hands on either side of the cross, she gently pressed the hidden catch and the door opened in the base. Making the sign of the cross-once, twice, three times, while saying a simple prayer for purity-she then withdrew the holy relic from its hiding place in the base of the cross. Turning to the sisters, she raised the chalice high and said, 'This will be the last time we partake of the Blessed Cup together. Let us do so with the love of Our Lord in our hearts, and the prayer on our lips that God's mighty purpose shall achieve its fulfilment in our sight.'

Taking the cup, she bowed her head over it and stood for a long time in silent prayer; then, eyes closed, she raised her face towards Heaven and said, 'Father of Lights, in whom there is no darkness at all, nor shadow of turning: we, the humblest of your many servants, greet you with gladness, and glory in the greatness of your holy name even as we remember the countless blessings you have showered upon us throughout these many years. Tonight, according to your will which has been revealed to us through your emissary on earth, we lay down our duty of care and relinquish the charge we have long maintained. Know that we have only ever sought the pleasure of your service, O Lord, and we ask you to look kindly on the work of your servants, for the sake of your Son, Our Saviour.'