'Now,' Agrippa continued, 'the Tudors have a craving for a dynasty. The present King's father called his eldest son Arthur, trying to use his Welshness to build up legends linking his family to Arthur of the Round Table. Do you know these legends?'
I shook my head. 'Of course not. I'm no scholar.'
'Well', he stroked his chin, 'there is a legend that, after the great Arthur died, prophecies grew up in the West Country that one day he would return, come riding out of the setting sun to right all wrongs. The Great Miser wanted to depict his family as Arthur's line come again but his eldest son died and now Fat Henry is king. Nonetheless, the Tudor dream or nightmare continues.'
'Oh, come!' I interrupted. 'You are not saying our noble Henry is frightened of some mythical King riding down to Westminster with the Knights of the Round Table?'
Agrippa narrowed his eyes. 'Of course not, but he is frightened of the Yorkists, the Plantagenets, those who have better claims to the throne than he! And you know how superstitious he is. What would happen if Stafford or some other prince with Yorkist blood in his veins produced the sacred relics? Arthur's sword, Excalibur, or worse the Grail which sat on his table, the chalice which Jesus drank from at the Last Supper?'
(No, don't laugh. I know we live in the age of reason and commonsense but in my time I have seen the most incredible rebellions: people marching behind a piece of cloth or those who believe that pieces of the true cross will protect them from arrows or bullets. Isn't it wonderful what people will believe when they want to?)
'You are not saying,' I scoffed, 'that Buckingham obtained these relics?'
'Yes and no,' Agrippa replied. 'After Buckingham's insults, Wolsey's legion of spies went to work. The Cardinal concocted a story that Buckingham was plotting against the King and wished to gain possession of these sacred relics to rally forces to him.'
'Oh, that's ridiculous!' Benjamin interrupted. 'I understand that centuries ago Arthur's corpse was discovered at Glastonbury but, according to legend, Excalibur was tossed into a lake, whilst the whereabouts of the Grail is still a mystery.'
'Oh, but Wolsey has proof,' Agrippa replied. 'His agents arrested a Benedictine monk, Nicholas Hopkins, who is now lodged in the Tower. This Hopkins is from Glastonbury. He is also chaplain at the Santerre manor of Templecombe in Somerset.
'Hopkins claims he knows where both the Grail and the Sword are and that he offered them to Buckingham.
'According to Hopkins, the Duke planned to use them to lead a revolt, depose and execute Henry, and take the throne himself.'
'And Buckingham believed this junk was holy?' I laughed. 'Fell for the ramblings of some mouldy monk!'
'What about the Santerres?' Benjamin asked. 'Were they involved?'
'No. They are merely tenants of Buckingham. The good Duke went to Templecombe to meet Hopkins and tried to draw Sir John Santerre into the conspiracy. Santerre refused, which is just as well for Wolsey's agents had infiltrated both this household and Buckingham's retinue. The good Duke,' Agrippa concluded, 'certainly had an interest in the relics: he sent messages to his agent in London that once he obtained them he would lead a revolt.'
'There's more, isn't there?' asked Benjamin.
Agrippa rubbed his face with his hands. 'Yes. The Grail and the Sword are being sought by others.'
'Who?' my master asked.
'The Templars,' Agrippa snapped.
'Who?' I asked.
The Templars,' he continued, 'were a military order formed in the twelfth century to defend the Holy Land. They acquired vast possessions in England and France -castles, land and manors. They also obtained secret knowledge and possessed all the great holy relics, such as the shroud in which Christ's body was wrapped, the Mandylion which cleaned his face on the way to Calvary, and, if legend is to be believed, the Grail and the Sword Excalibur.'
'So,' Benjamin asked, 'what have they to do with us?'
(Oh, my master was so innocent. I almost guessed what was coming next.)
'His Grace the King and my Lord Cardinal want you to go to Somerset, find the Grail and Excalibur, and if possible root out these Templars.'
'They still exist?' I asked.
'Oh, yes.' Agrippa rubbed the side of his face. 'I didn't finish my story. On Friday, the thirteenth of October 1307, the Templars were seized throughout Christendom, tortured and put to death on charges of idolatry, sodomy and black magic. Most of them died at the stake or on the gallows but a few escaped and organised themselves into secret conventicles. These Templars are determined that the Grail and the Sword should not fall into Henry's hands for they see him as the incarnation of evil.'
(Very perceptive, I thought.)
Agrippa cleared his throat. 'There is evidence that some of the Yorkists were members of this secret order. Hopkins certainly was, and Buckingham may be.'