The Golden Knight accompanied Emrys Wledig through the crowded streets and narrow alleys of Damascus. Together, the pair of them quartered the city in their search for the True Cross. Few people paid attention to them - and those that did, Richard kept away. If a simple and brusque 'no' did not suffice to deter, then all Richard had to do was to lift his cloak and expose the blade of his sword. Then the interloper would scurry away, muttering apologies or curses. Richard did not care which; nor did Emrys.

The scholar had once attempted to explain to Richard how he was using the holy relic - the preserved finger of Jospeh of Arimathea - he had brought all the way from Glastonbury Abbey; to reassure him that what he was doing was neither blasphemy nor witchcraft. "It is blood calling to blood," Emrys had told him. "It was Joseph himself who came to England, who brought Christianity to its shores, and whose bones are interred in the abbey. Should you be surprised that the bond between father and son should survive this thousand years?"

So, as the pair made their way through the city of Damascus, every few hundred paces or so, Emrys would stop and lift the silver lid of the reliquary to stare at the ossified digit within. Then he would make a mark on the sheet of papyrus he had rolled up and placed in his belt, creating a map of the city.

"And this will lead us to the True Cross?" Richard had asked.

Emrys smiled. "Oh yes. Have no doubt, young noble." And he had made another mark on his papyrus. After three days of wandering, the map was a network of lines and scribbled phrases, their meaning only obvious to the scholar.

"So, where is it concealed?"

Emrys consulted his map, aligning it with the landmarks visible to them between the crowded buildings. "This way."

Richard followed his companion. In their time in Damascus he had become familiar with the streets around their khan. Away from these thoroughfares it was still easy for him to lose his way. However, Richard was sure that he knew where Emrys was taking them, and he was proved right as they passed along streets that he recognised. The minarets and dome of the great mosque of Damascus rose above the surrounding buildings, and then it was before them.

"In there?" Richard asked.

Emrys retreated into the shade of a nearby stall and retrieved his scroll to examine it. "Aye," he said after a minute of squinting and poring. "That must be where it is. Of course they would place a holy relic there."

Richard stared at the colonnaded wall that stretched either side of the gated entrance. "How will we get in there? Do you expect us to just walk in? Or is there perhaps some convenient tunnel that we can use?"

"There might be," Emrys said, ignoring the sarcastic tone in the Golden Knight's voice. "But I think I would prefer the first of those choices, and so would you."

Richard pulled his companion close and hissed at him. "That is a heathen temple! Do you think I - a Christian knight sworn to God - would willingly set foot inside that place? It would be ... ." His voice faltered.

"I would not worry about that," Emrys replied calmly. "We do not intend to worship there. Your immortal soul is in no danger from that. No. we need merely gain entry so that we may continue to seek the True Cross. It is in there. That is all there is to it."

"But, if we are found ... ?"

"And who would suspect us? We are but two men amongst hundreds. So long as we do not enter their hall of worship then we are in no danger. See?" Emrys gestured towards the great gate in front of them. "People enter and leave freely to go about their business. Why should we not do the same?"

Richard sighed. "But not today, please?"

"No." Emrys laughed. "Not today. We shall head back to prepare for this. When we go into the mosque, then we are in there for good or ill. Does that suit you?"

"It does."

"Good!" Emrys thumped the Golden Knight's back. "And do not worry! This time there shall be no demons or assassins to confront us!"