A Knyght Ther Was Read online

aura of efficiency and sex. "Getme my photo-projector, Miss Tyler," Perfidion said.

  When she returned with it, he set it on his desk and inserted thestereophoto. Instantly, a huge cube materialized in the center of theroom. Inside the cube there was a realistic image of a resplendentsilver table, and upon the image of the table stood an equallyrealistic image of a resplendent golden bowl. Perfidion gasped again.

  "Unusual workmanship, wouldn't you say?" Mallory said.

  Perfidion turned toward the blonde. "You may go, Miss Tyler."

  She was staring at the contents of the cube and apparently did nothear him. "I said," he repeated, "that you may go, Miss Tyler."

  "Oh. Yes ... yes sir."

  * * * * *

  When the lift-tube door closed behind her, Perfidion turned toMallory. For a fraction of a second the predator was visible behindthe smoky windowpanes of his eyes; then, quickly, it ducked out ofsight. "Where was this taken, Tom?"

  "It's a distance-shot," Mallory said. "I took it through one of thewindows of the church Joseph of Arimathea built in Glastonbury."

  "But how did you know--"

  "That it was there? Because it _had_ to be there. Some time ago, whileescorting a group of tourists around ancient Britain, I happened towitness Joseph of Arimathea's landing--and happened to catch a glimpseof what he brought with him. I used to think that the Grail was a pipedream, too, but when I saw it with my own eyes, I knew that itcouldn't have been. However, I knew I'd need evidence to convince you,so I jumped back to a later place-time and got a shot of it."

  "But why a shot, Tom? Why didn't you lift it then and there?"

  "You concede that it is the Grail then?"

  "Of course it's the Grail--there's not the slightest question aboutit. Why didn't you lift it?"

  "Well, for one thing, I wanted to make sure that lifting it would beworth my while, and for another, Glastonbury wasn't the logicalplace-time from which to lift it, because, assuming that the rest ofthe legend is also true, it was seen after that place-time. Notime-thief ever bucked destiny yet and came out the winner, Jason; Iplay my percentages."

  "I know you do, Tom. You're one of the best time-lift men in thebusiness, and the Past Police would be the first to admit it.... Idaresay you've already pinpointed the key place-time?"

  Mallory grinned, showing his white teeth. "I certainly have, but ifyou think I'm going to divulge it, you're sadly mistaken, Jason. Andstop looking at my hair--it won't tell you anything beyond the factthat I've been using Hair-haste. Shoulder-length hair was the rage inmore eras than one."

  Perfidion smiled warmly, and clapped Mallory on the back. "I'm nottrying to ferret out your secret, Tom. I know better than that.Lifting is your line, fencing mine. You bring me the Grail, I'll sellit, take my cut, and everything will be fine. You know me, Tom."

  "I sure do," Mallory said, taking the stereophoto out of the projectorand returning it to his breast pocket.

  Perfidion snapped his fingers. "A happy thought just occurred to me!I've got a golp date with Rowley of Puriproducts, so why don't youjoin us, Tom? You play a pretty good game, as I recall."

  Mollified, Mallory said, "I'll have to borrow a set of yourjetsticks."

  "I'll get them for you on the way down. Come on, Tom."

  Mallory accompanied him across the room. "Keep mum about this toRowley now," Perfidion said confidentially. "He's a potentialcustomer, but we don't want to let the cat out of the bag yet, do we?Or should I say 'the Grail'." He took time out to grin at his littlejoke, then, "By the way, Tom, I take it you're all set as regardscostume, equipment and the like."

  "I've got the sweetest little suit of armor you ever laid eyes on,"Mallory said.

  "Fine--no need for me to offer any advice in that respect then."Perfidion opened the lift door. "After you, Tom."

  They plummeted down the tube together.

  * * * * *

  It had been a good game of golp--from Mallory's standpoint, anyway. Hehad trounced Rowley roundly, and he would have inflicted similarignominy upon Perfidion had not the latter been called away in themiddle of the game and been unable to return till it was nearly over.Oh well, Mallory thought, encephalo-guiding his rohorse through theancient forest, there'll be other chances. Aloud, he said, "Steplively now, Easy Money, and let's get this caper over with so we canreturn to civilization and start feeling what it's like to be rich."

  In response to the encephalo-waves that had accompanied his words,Easy Money increased its pace, the infra-red rays of its eye unitsillumining its way. In places, light from the rising moon seepedthrough the foliage, but otherwise darkness was the rule. The air wascool and damp--the sea was not far distant--and the sound of frogs andinsects was omnipresent and now and then there was the rustling soundof some small and fleeing forest creature.

  Presently the ground began to rise, and not long afterward the treesthinned out temporarily and rohorse and rider emerged on the moonlitcrest of the ridge that separated the two valleys. In the distanceMallory made out the moon-gilt towers and turrets of a large castle,and knew it to be Carbonek beyond a doubt. He sighed with relief. Hewas all set now--provided his masquerade went over. Conversely, if itdidn't go over he was finished: his sword and his spear were his onlyweapons, and his shield and his armor, his only protection. True, eacharticle was superior in quality and durability to its correspondingarticle in the Age of Chivalry, but otherwise none of them wasanything more than what it seemed. Mallory might be a time-thief; butwithin the framework of his profession he believed in playing fair.

  In response to his encephalopathed directions, Easy Money picked itsway down the slope of the ridge and re-entered the forest. Not longafterward it stepped onto what was euphemistically referred to in thatday and age as a "highway" but which in reality was little more than awide, hoof-trampled lane. As Mallory's entire plan of action was basedon boldness, he spurned the shadows of the bordering oaks and beechesand encephalopathed the rohorse to keep to the center of the lane. Hemet no one, however, despite the earliness of the hour, nor had hereally expected to. It was highly improbable that any freemen would beabroad after dark, and as for the knight-errants who happened to be inthe neighborhood, it was highly improbable that any of them would beabroad after dark either.

  He grinned. To read _Le Morte d'Arthur,_ you'd think that the chivalryboys had been in business twenty-four hours a day, slaying ogres,rescuing fair damosels, and searching for the Sangraal; but not if youread between the lines. Mallory had read "Arthur" only cursorily, buthe had had a hunch all along that in the majority of cases the questfor the Sangraal had served as an out, and that the knights of theTable Round had spent more time wenching and wassailing than they hadconducting their so-called dedicated search, and the hunch had playedan important role in the shaping of his strategy.

  The highway turned this way and that, never pursuing a straight courseunless such a logical procedure was unavoidable. Once, he thought heheard hoofbeats up ahead, but he met no one, and not long afterward hesaw the pale pile of Carbonek looming above the trees to his left, andencephalo-guided Easy Money into the lane that led to the entrance.There was no moat, but the portcullis was an imposing one. Flanking iton either side was a huge stone lion, and framing it were flamingtorches in regularly-spaced niches. Warders in hauberk and helmetlooked down from the lofty wall, their halberds gleaming in thedancing torchlight. Mallory swallowed: the moment of truth hadarrived.

  He halted Easy Money and canted his white shield so that the redcross in its center would be visible from above. Then he marshalledhis smattering of Old English. "I hight Sir Galahad of the TableRound," he called out in as bold a voice as he could muster. "I wouldrest my eyes upon the Sangraal."

  * * * * *

  Instantly, confusion reigned upon the wall as the warders vied withone another for the privilege of operating the cumbersome windlassthat raised and lowered the portcullis, and presently, to theaccompanime
nt of a chorus of creaks and groans and scrapings, theponderous iron grating began to rise. Mallory forced himself to waituntil it had risen to a height befitting a knight of Sir Galahad'scaliber, then he rode through the gateway and into the courtyard,congratulating himself on the effectiveness of his impersonation.

  "Ye will come unto the chamber of the Sangraal sixty paces down thecorridor to thy left eftsoon ye enter the chief fortress, sir knight,"one of the warders called down. "An ye had arrived a little whileafore, ye had encountered Sir Launcelot du Lake, the which did comeunto the fortress and enter in, wherefrom he came out anon