Temple of the Grail(3)

‘You infer that they are not always the same?’

‘An intelligent observation,’ he said smiling – though I suggest that he meant the opposite. ‘Knowledge we know to be eternal and immutable, am I right?’

‘And ignorance is the knowing of nothing,’ I added.

‘Precisely.’

‘All the same,’ I argued, ‘where does one place opinion?’

‘Opinion, Christian, fluctuates between the two states. Between what fully is and what absolutely is not, and so it is never reliable.’

‘But what has this to do with the wind and the road, master?’ I asked, exasperated, looking up at the strange clouds beyond the canopy of trees.

He popped some nuts into his mouth, chewed, and gazing upward shook his head, ‘At the cross-roads did we hear any expressions of knowledge? No, only opinions, estimations. Am I right?’

‘Yes, but I still do not understand what this has to do with –’

‘None of our esteemed colleagues, Christian, knew anything about these roads, never having travelled through this region before. And yet, each had so many fine opinions based on this and that, that and this . . . all erroneous.’

‘So it is lucky for us that the wind is wise, master,’ I said, knowing that the elements are celestial letters, signs through which God bespeaks his wisdom to man.

He gave me a sharp look, ‘And unfortunate for me that you are so stupid!’ I was glad the wind caught it before the others could hear. ‘You would try the patience of St Francis, boy! The wind had very little to do with it!’

‘No? Not even as an instrument of God?’

‘It was my own doing.’

‘It could be that you are his instrument,’ I answered.

‘Do not speak nonsense that is better left to senile theologians. I swear you are an exasperating boy! No. This morning before we left, while taking my usual walk I came across a merchant, a travelling man, whose knowledge of these roads is born of necessity. After a little polite and instructive conversation I learnt a little about the route we were about to undertake. He told me, and as we have seen quite rightly, to be on the lookout for a junction with only one possible course, the middle one. As it happens he had once found himself lost along this road and was given safe harbour by the very same monks of the monastery, of whom he spoke highly. Now do you see that there is no mystery to it? A good knight is always well informed, remember that, it may one day save your life. Where one finds one’s information is not important. What is important, however, is that one use the laws of observation, Christian, namely the God-given senses. Then one need never rely on opinion, or faith in miracles or any other such thing.’

‘I see . . . but tell me then, how did you know the wind would throw the bishop’s hat in the right path?’ I asked, trying to trip him up.

‘Christian . . .’ he sighed with impatience, but he was smiling for I believe he always felt a great pleasure in proclaiming his knowledge, ‘of course I did not know which way the hat would blow! Had it not been the wind I would have found some other pretext, that is all. That does not mean that we cannot thank the Lord for whatever aid he gives us.’

I must have had a look of amazement on my face because he laughed so loudly that others turned to look, but I eyed him suspiciously, ‘Why did you not just say that you knew the way?’

‘Ahh . . .’ he smiled a broad, white smile that wrinkled his brown face all the way to his eyes. ‘This is the lesson, the lesson is this! Prudence, dear boy, prudence! To be too confident of one’s own aptitude,’ he lowered his voice and I could hardly hear him, ‘especially in the company of those whose tendencies are to bull-headed vanity, is dangerous. Prudence begs that those whom we cannot instruct we must . . . direct. In other words, it is essential for a man to be tranquil and obscure.’

I was suddenly filled with a great admiration. ‘I see,’ I said proudly. ‘You had the knowledge while the others had only opinions, but they could not blame you for showing them up.’

‘Mashallah! – what God can accomplish! Now you have it! Know much, but disclose little – that’s a good axiom. Remember this in days to come, this too could save your life, for it is the usual case that those who hold opinions most strongly rarely know anything of the things they hold opinions about.’

So saying, we continued in silence, toiling for a long period in the worsening weather, and it was mid-afternoon and almost dark before we finally neared our destination.

Above our heads we encountered firstly the fortified battlements that ran along the exposed eastern side. In the gloom, they seemed imposing and ominous. Behind this rampart, a fortress of darkness was framed by a steep mountain whose gigantic snowy peaks were hidden under a blanket of cloud, and whose cold formation – thrust out of the earth perhaps by devils – loomed its stark, craggy walls over the surrounding landscape. It communicated a solemn, fearful respect, and I decided (thinking again of the untold symbols through which God speaks to us) that it was a warning, a sign that we should turn back.