Birds of Prey

On the fourth day, when the work was done and Hal was rowed back down the lagoon, he saw from afar that the work of repairing the galleon was well in hand. The carpenter and his mates had built scaffolds over her stern, from which platform they were fitting new timbers to replace those damaged by gunfire, to the great discomfort of the guests aboard. The ungainly jury mast raised by the Dutch captain to replace his gale-shattered main, had been taken down and the galleon's lines were awkward and unharmonious with one mast missing.

However, when Hal climbed up to the deck through the entry port he saw that Ned Tyler and his work gang were swaying up the massive baulks of exotic timber that made up the heaviest part of the ship's cargo and lowering them into the lagoon to float across to the beach.

The spare mast was stowed at the bottom of the hold, where the sealed compartment contained the coin and ingots. The cargo had to be removed to reach them.

"Your father has sent for you," Aboli greeted Hal, and Hal hurried aft.

"You have missed three days of your studies while you were ashore," Sir Francis told him, without preamble.

"Yes, Father." Hal knew that it was vain to point out that he had not deliberately evaded them. But, at least, I will not apologize for it, he determined silently, and met his father's gaze unflinchingly.

"After your supper this evening, I will rehearse you in the catechism of the Order. Come to my cabin at eight bells in the second dog watch."

The catechism of initiation to the Order of St. George and the Holy Grail had never been written down and for nearly four centuries the two hundred esoteric questions and answers had been passed on by word of mouth, master instructing novice in the Strict Observance.

Sitting beside Aboli on the foredeck, Hal wolfed hot biscuit, fried in dripping, and baked fresh fish. Now with an unlimited supply of firewood and fresh food on hand, the ship's meals were substantial, but Hal was silent as he ate. In his mind he went over his catechism, for his father would be strict in his judgement. Too soon the ship's bell struck and, as the last note faded, Hal tapped on the door to his father's cabin.

While his father sat at his desk Hal knelt on the bare planks of the deck. Sir Francis wore the cloak of his office over his shoulders, and on his breast sparkled the magnificent seal fashioned of gold, the insignia of a Nauto

His father conducted the catechism in Latin. The use of this language ensured that only literate, educated men could ever become members of the Order.

"Who are you?" Sir Francis asked the first question. "Henry Courtney, son of Francis and Edwina." "What is your business here?"

"I come to present myself as an acolyte of the Order of St. George and the Holy Grail."

"Whence, come you?"

"From the ocean sea, for that is my begi

"Who went before you?"

"The Poor Knights of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon." The Knights of the Temple of the Order of St. George and the Holy Grail were the successors to the extinct Order of the Knights Templar.

After that Sir Francis made Hal outline the history of the Order, how in the year 1312 the Knights Templar had been attacked and destroyed by the King of France, Philippe Le Bel, in co

Next Sir Francis made his son repeat the arcane words of recognition, and the grip of hands that identified the Knights to each other.

"In Arcadia habito. I dwell in Arcadia," Sir Francis intoned, as he stooped over Hal to take his right hand in the double grip.

"Flumen sac rum bene cognosco! I know well the sacred river!" Hal replied reverently, interlocking his forefinger with his father's in the response.

"Explain the meaning of these words, "his father insisted. "It is our covenant with God and each other. The Temple is Arcadia, and we are the river."

The ship's bell twice sounded the passage of the hours before the two hundred questions were asked and answered, and Hal was allowed to rise stiffly from his knees.

When he reached his tiny cabin he was too weary even to light the oil lamp and dropped to his bunk fully clothed to lie there in a stupor of mental exhaustion. The questions and responses of the catechism echoed, an endless refrain, through his tired brain, until meaning and reality seemed to recede.

Then he heard faint sounds of movement from beyond the bulkhead and, miraculously, his fatigue cleared. He sat up, his senses tuned to the other cabin. He would not light the lamp for the sound of steel striking flint would carry through the panel. He rolled off his bunk and, in the darkness, moved on silent bare feet to the bulkhead.

He knelt and ran his fingers lightly along the joint in the woodwork until he found the plug he had left there. Quietly he removed it and placed his eye to the spy hole