Her righteous scorn leapt like a flame, withering my self-respect and misplaced honour with its indignant heat.

'O Mighty Guardians,' she demanded, 'where were you when the enemy laid hand to your treasure? Did you imagine the Cup of Christ would be protected by frail flesh?'

I stared in dismay and could not answer.

'Hear me, Sons of Dust! You held the Kingdom of Summer in your grasp and you threw it away. You have destroyed the one opportunity you were granted to bring peace to the peoples of the earth.'

I could not endure her anger any longer. 'Please!' I cried. 'I am an ignorant man, it is true. If I have failed to – '

'Silence!' the angel cried, and the walls of the chapel quaked at the word. The Grail Cup is returning to the hand that gave it. Look upon it, Son of Dust! Look upon it and weep at your loss, for this is the last it will be seen in this worlds-realm.'

Bending over the cup, she reached out to take it up once more, and I knew no mortal being would ever again know its healing presence.

'No, wait!' I said, and the Grail Keeper hesitated, the light of righteous anger flaring in her eyes again. I had braved it once, and would a thousand times over if I could but stay her hand a little longer. 'Forgive me, lady. My words and ways are crude, I know, but I mean no disrespect. It is only that I do not know how to speak as I ought. Truly, I could not endure the knowledge that this Holy Cup has passed from the world of men because of my failure. If there is any way the Glorious Vessel can be redeemed, only tell me and I pledge my life and all I possess to its redemption.'

The maiden regarded me with a look both piercing and pitying; her reply was blade-sharp. 'Why weary heaven with your contemptible pleading? Think you to sway what has been commanded from before the earth was framed and the stars set in their courses?'

'Please,' I said, summoning every grain of courage I owned to one last entreaty. 'It is not for myself that I ask, less yet for those whose duty it was to defend the Grail, but for those who struggle in darkness for the light. They have so little, and their needs are so great, the merest glimpse of the Holy Cup is enough to give them courage to abide the misfortunes of their lot with hope and faith in the life to come. It is for them that I plead. I beg you, do not take the Grail away.'

The lady listened to my plea, but her face remained like flint and her fierce gaze unaltered. 'Words cannot atone for your sin and failure.'

'Then take me instead, I pray. I will endure the fires of perdition, and that gladly, if my suffering could be accounted for the reclamation of the Summer Realm and the cup that upholds it.'

'You are a man, indeed,' she conceded, softening somewhat. 'But it is not to be.'

So saying, she reached for the cup and took it between her hands. I knew I looked my last upon the Most Holy Grail.

She straightened and made to turn away, paused, and raised her head; her gaze lifted – as if heeding a voice I could not hear.

I saw this and hope leapt in my heart.

Nodding once, she turned to me again. 'Most fortunate of men are you,' she said, 'for the Lord of Hosts has heard the plea of your heart and has been moved to give you a second chance to prove yourselves worthy. The Grail will stay.'

Joy flowed up and over me in a warm, giddy rush. But for my injured leg, I would have thrown myself to my knees before her and kissed the hem of her robe in gratitude. 'Thank you,' I breathed. 'Thank you.'

'Your petition has been granted,' she told me, 'for the sake of the king you serve, and those who stand in need of the blessing of this Holy Cup.'

Before I could think what to say, she continued, her voice assuming a commanding tone once more. 'Hear me, Sons of Dust: it has been decided that you are to be shown what you have pledged your lives to protect, and who it is that sustains you in your duty.'

Placing the cup upon the altar once more, her fingers described a graceful figure in the air, and the Grail gathered radiance, drawing light to itself, shining with a rosy brilliance as if reflecting the sunrays of creation's dawn. When she removed her hands, I saw that a faint circle of light had formed in the air above the rim.

'Behold!' she said, and spread her hands wide.

At once I heard a sound like that of a struck harp, and a bright light leapt up, and the altar began to glow with a fine and holy light. I do not know how to say it otherwise, but that this radiance expanded outward to embrace the whole of the chapel. The stone walls began to shine, and the incised designs seemed to move and grow in the light, entwining with one another and spreading to form patterns of gleaming light. The next I knew, those selfsame walls were not stone anymore, but gold! Still, the alteration did not end there, for the patterns continued to grow and change and the gold paled to white marble, and that gave way to crystal so pure I could see through the very walls to the world beyond – all green and lush beneath a sky of gold.

'Look upon me, Son of Dust, and know me as I am,' the lady said; I do not think she spoke aloud this time, but I heard her clearly and, emboldened by the tenderness of her invitation, I looked and saw that she, like the chapel, had changed.

Indeed, the woman who stood before me now was taller and far more noble in face and figure. Her long hair was silver-white, and so, too, the robe which clothed her slender form. Her skin was pale as milk or moonlight, and she seemed, despite her aspect and the obvious maturity of her body, to manifest the spirited youth of a child. The visible manifestation of her sustaining power rose behind her in two radiant arcs, subtle, yet perceptible as a rippling rainbow in the sunlight, shimmering with vital potency, overarching and sweeping out like enfolding wings to sustain and protect. Her face, once fair to look upon, was no less beautiful now, yet it was a piercing beauty almost frightening in its symmetry and the compelling elegance of its proportions. Piercing, too, the radiance that streamed from her – almost too bright to look upon, and of a quality that penetrated the heart as well as the eye, and illumined both; for to see her was to know one looked upon a glory that partook of the heavenly and was the birthright of those who served in the High King of Heaven's celestial courts.

'Behold,' she said again, and I saw that the cup had changed. No longer a vessel of jewelled metal – indeed, there was neither ornament nor design: no gold, gems, or pearls; no inscribed scrollwork; nor any other such embellishment – yet it glittered and shone with a dancing brilliance as if it were made of golden starfire, for it was garbed in its heavenly form now, and was as high above the earthly cup as the Grail Maiden was above her mortal sisters.

This! I thought. This is the True Cup of Christ!

These words formed in my mind before I knew what they meant. Even so, I heard in them truth's clear and undisputed ring. The Grail Maiden raised the Holy Cup from the now-translucent altar stone, turned, and, Holy Saviour, offered it to me! I hesitated, glancing towards Gereint and Bors for help, but their heads were bowed and their eyes were closed as if in raptured sleep. It was to me alone that she extended the wondrous bowl. Still, I hesitated lest I defile the Holy Cup with my touch.

Take it, noble Gwakhavad, the angel urged gently, her tone melting honey and sunlight. With trembling hands, I reached out and received the Sacred Bowl.

The blood of Christ, shed for you, Gwakhavad, she intoned. Drink deep of it and be renewed in body, mind, and spirit.

My heart beating within me like a captive creature sensing its release, I raised the Sacred Bowl and saw the liquid glint of deep crimson as I brought it to my lips. I put my mouth to the rim, closed my eyes, and emptied the cup. The wine danced on my tongue like cool fire; it was sweet to the taste, but with a tart, almost bitter edge that revealed subtle depths of flavour. Although I am no master of the vine, I would have said that it must far surpass the finest wine ever poured into an emperor's cup.