A Knight to Desire (21 page)

"Wake up," a voice from somewhere beyond her called.

Brianna slowly opened her eyes. Images whirled, blurred around her.

Pain throbbed at her temple. "Wake up!"

Her cheek stung as she turned her gaze toward the source of her pain. De la Roche stared down at her.

"You're awake. It's about time. I was tiring of waiting. We must get started."

"Started?" Brianna struggled to raise her head before she realized she was strapped at the wrists, ankles, knees, waist, and shoulders to a hard surface. She glanced wildly around her, but could see only the wooden table to which she was bound and the man standing beside her.

The man was of medium height with a barrel chest and torso that seemed too thick in proportion to his long legs. One of those legs was straight, the other appeared bent below the knee, and his weight was shifted onto his right side as if he'd been injured. Brianna raised her gaze to his ice-blue eyes glittering in the light of the torch he held. "What do you intend to do to me?"

The man smiled, but there was no joy in his gaze, only anger and malevolence. "I intend to use you in a way that will bring me far more pleasure than I've had in a while." De la Roche smoothed back the hair from her temple. "Poor little warrior. You are frightened of my intentions, aren't you?"

He yearned for her fear. She could see it in his eyes. "Where am I?"

"Where you are is of no concern. All that will matter is what Lockhart does. We will see very soon if he thinks you are worth fighting for." His fingertips drifted over her cheek. His touch was light until he reached the bruises he'd caused. Pain followed in the wake of his touch.

Brianna pretended nonchalance. "What would you have me say? I cannot predict what the man will do."

A twisted smile came to his lips. "I think you know him very well, sweetling. Very well, indeed."

"He is a warrior. He will do only what is logical. Coming for me is not worth the risk of his men." She said the words boldly, but inside she trembled at the thought of being at the madman's mercy.

"I'll get what I want from Lockhart, and from you. It's only a matter of time." His fingers reached her hairline and he reversed the direction, retracing the painful caress.

Brianna forced herself not to show her fear. She had to be strong.

De la Roche's gaze narrowed on her face. "I see you are a brave little warrior. Perhaps we should put your bravery to the test?" He frowned. "What could I do to you that would be a fitting punishment for stealing the Grail from me?" His tone was suddenly as hard as the pressure he exerted on her bruised and battered skin.

Her throat tightened as she looked into his light-colored eyes. "The Grail was not yours."

"It was mine because I wanted it." He reached for her hand, squeezed it brutally.

She bit back a cry as pain radiated up her arm.

"I will have the Grail again. I will have all the treasure soon. When Lockhart comes after you, my men will be waiting."

He leaned over her. As he did, a pouch slipped from inside his robe to brush her face.

Brianna turned to look and saw a wisp of her own hair protruding from the opening. Her eyes widened at the sight. He
had
come to her that night and taken a lock of her hair. With her teeth, she reached out and bit down hard, seizing the pouch. She twisted her head, jerked hard, and snapped the silken string from de la Roche's neck.

He gasped at her sudden movement. "What are you about?" De la Roche raised his hand and brought it down against her cheek.

Biting back the pain that exploded in her head, Brianna used the force of the blow and her own breath to send the pouch flying into the darkened corner of the tent.

"Damn you!" de la Roche growled. He gripped her cheeks with his fingers, drawing her face back to his furious gaze. "I don't need your hair any longer. I have you. And soon I'll have everything I ever wanted — your death, the Templar treasure, and Lockhart."

"He won't come for me." She bit out the words.

"He'll come, but not before I have a little sport at your expense." He released her face and turned to reach for something behind him. When he turned back to her, the glint of a knife appeared in the torchlight. "So how shall I punish you that will leave a lasting impression?" His thin lips pulled down in a pout.

Brianna braced herself for whatever pain he would inflict on her next. "You could let me go and spare yourself the sting of my blade."

His bark of laughter filled the silence. "Brave to the last, just like a warrior." He shook his head. "I was going to punish you as a thief by taking your hands. But that will never do." He pursed his lips as if in thought. "Perhaps I will treat you the same way I shall treat Lockhart. I will not take your hands, but I'll destroy your fingers instead. You'll never be able to hold a sword again once I'm through with you." He laughed again. "A warrior who cannot fight. What a fitting end it will be."

He brought the knife down with violent force.

Brianna screamed.

Simon came awake. He became chillingly aware of the darkness surrounding him, the odor of the damp earth, the smell of horses. The inn yard. He was still there. Why? Why had de la Roche left him behind?

Why should I slice you down when I can make you suffer?
De la Roche's words came back to him.

"Damn you, de la Roche," Simon cried out into the night as pain ripped through him. How could he have been so stupid as to send Brianna into the inn alone?

But he hadn't sent her alone. Simon gained his feet. He searched the ground for his sword. He found it several paces from him. Gripping it tightly, he glanced around the moonlit inn yard. He could make out the bodies of his fallen men. Were any of them still alive?

He found Jacob, Alaric, Benton, and Thomas lying strewn about the yard. All still lived, though Benton and Thomas had been seriously wounded, one in the chest, the other on the leg.

Sick to his stomach that he hadn't been able to stop de la Roche, Simon staggered inside the inn to check his men there. His gaze fell on Kaden at the doorway. His face was covered in blood from a beating, and it was obvious from his injuries that the warrior had fought valiantly to try to save Brianna.

Simon bent down, fully expecting his friend to be dead.

A finger to the side of his neck revealed a soft beat. "Kaden," he said softly, realizing then that the knight was still breathing, although very shallowly.

Kaden's eyes blinked open.

"Rest easy. I'll find a healer if it's the last thing I do."

Kaden lifted his hand to Simon's shoulder. "On the side of the inn. Under a large rock. The Grail. Brianna saved it." Kaden's gaze filled with agony. "I tried to stop him."

"It's not your fault, Kaden. It's mine."

Kaden struggled to sit up, but collapsed back against the ground, his breathing ragged. "Nay, de la Roche is to blame."

Simon nodded as words failed him. Pain and anger clashed inside him. He stood. "I'll go get the Grail. Perhaps it will help."

Grabbing a torch from the wrought iron holder just inside the doorway of the inn, Simon moved to the side of the inn. There he found a large boulder and set his sword and the torch down as he bent to roll the rock over. Buried beneath the rock was a shroud of linen that appeared to be part of Kaden's shirt. Simon opened the linen to expose the shimmering metal of the Grail. He sheathed his sword and gripped the torch and the holy vessel and hurried inside the inn to fetch a skin of water.

He dropped to his knees at Kaden's side. He poured water into the vessel and brought it to Kaden's lips. As the cup made contact with Kaden's flesh, the cup changed from silver to green to gold and back to silver again. A warmth moved from where his fingers touched the cup, up his arm and into his chest, as though the cup were not just healing Kaden, but Simon as well.

Simon drew in a startled breath. The magic of the Grail was real. For the first time in a long while, Simon actually felt as though God might not have abandoned them after all. He'd given them this moment of healing, and for that Simon was grateful.

When Kaden's features appeared more at ease, Simon left him to attend to his other men. Jacob and Alaric responded immediately to the liquid from the Grail and helped him administer the healing liquid to Benton and Thomas by propping the men up so that they might more easily swallow. Jacob and Alaric stayed beside Benton and Thomas while Simon headed inside the inn to check on Cameron, Kendall, and Iain. All three men were merely unconscious. The liquid from the Grail brought them to their senses almost immediately. It did not take long for all the able-bodied men to gather in the inn yard close to where Thomas and Benton still slept.

"We need to regroup and follow whatever trail we can find that will take us to Brianna," Simon informed his men.

"If she still lives," Iain said, his tone solemn.

Agony twisted inside Simon, but he forced the pain aside. He had to stay focused, or the pain would overwhelm him. "De la Roche won't kill her outright. He's trying to wound me through her."

Benton roused from his sleep. "Nay! You cannot follow her," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The dark-haired Frenchman left me alive to tell you if we don't retreat, he'll kill Brianna."

"He'll kill her anyway," Cameron said ominously.

Benton tried to sit up. With help from Jacob, he managed to prop himself up on his elbows. "De la Roche wants you to give yourself up, Simon. In three days he wants you to meet him at Pennyghael Abbey to surrender yourself to him."

Alaric and Iain erupted into curses.

"He'll kill her no matter what you do," Jacob said as he strode back and forth across the inn yard, giving vent to his own nervousness.

"I say we follow the trail he left behind," Kendall growled. "We've all seen what he's capable of. We have no guarantee that she lives."

"I agree," Kaden echoed. "He's setting a trap for you, Simon. Whether he's killed Brianna yet or not, we must keep you safe."

"No doubt the man is capable of murdering Brianna, but he needs her to get to me. That's ultimately what he wants. So I very much doubt he's killed her yet." Simon's thoughts whirled as he considered what their options were. "I agree we need to appear as though we are following the man's orders in case he has set men to watch over us. But nothing prevents us from following Brianna's trail as well."

"How can we manage such secrecy? The land here is too flat and open for us to conceal ourselves. They'll see exactly what we are doing."

"And if this night's attack has taught us anything, it is that we need more men if we are to defeat de la Roche's full forces. We only met a small contingent this night and look what they were able to do to us," Thomas said with a frown.

Simon exchanged a knowing look with Kaden as an idea came to mind. "We can use secrecy to our advantage to make it appear as though I'm travelling to Pennyghael Abbey alone, while someone else steals off to Lee Castle with the Grail, and the rest of us rescue Brianna."

One corner of Kaden's mouth quirked up into a smile. "Brown robes?"

Simon nodded. "How can you truly tell one monk from another when concealed within our robes?"

"'Tis impossible," Kaden agreed.

Each man's eyes widened as understanding dawned. Without words, they each knew what must be done.

"Since I am most like you in height and coloring, I volunteer to head to Pennyghael Abbey," Iain said as he stepped up to Simon, his mail gleaming in the moonlight.

"You're a good man, Iain." Simon clapped him on the shoulder. "Gather your robe and prepare to leave. I will change out my horse for yours. De la Roche will suspect no foul-play if he recognizes my horse from a distance."