A Knight to Desire (33 page)

The monks had sheathed their swords and were already searching for survivors. Brianna signaled to Brother Michael to come to her. When he did, she released the Grail from her belt and handed the sacred vessel to him. "Use this to heal the injured."

The monk's eyes widened. "Is this what I think it is? The Holy Grail? The cup of Christ?" He gripped the vessel, the most precious gift he'd ever received.

"Aye," Brianna replied. "Use it well."

He nodded and hurried away, heading for the abbey.

Simon stared down at the body of de la Roche near his feet. In death, the man looked as any other. "I feel sorry for him, almost, and the greed that took over his soul."

Simon clenched his fists, fighting his first instinct to make the sign of the cross over the fallen man. The image of all the Templars the villain had slain and burned played across Simon's mind before he forced the memory away. It was time to move forward in all things. Reluctantly, he reached out and blessed the listless body. "May God be with you, and may He show you the mercy you never showed anyone else upon this earth."

"Does he deserve mercy?" Brianna asked beside him, her voice ragged.

Simon turned to face her. "All men, and women," he added, "deserve mercy. If we didn't think so, then we'd be no better than him."

Admiration shone in Brianna's eyes. "You're a good man, Simon Lockhart."

"And I'm a lucky man to have you fighting by my side. You saved me with your skilled swordsmanship." He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss against her palm. She had saved his life, given him purpose, and renewed his faith that good could triumph over evil. "How are your fingers?"

"In the heat of the battle, I felt no pain in them. Perhaps I am fully healed." He pressed another kiss to her palm then looked up to see the other men looking at the two of them, smiling. And yet, they also looked to Simon for leadership.

"We still have much to do."

She nodded and pulled her hand from his. "The dead will need burial, and there are the injured to attend to." Her face sobered. "I used the Grail during the battle to save my father."

"Your father is here?"

She drew a tremulous breath. "He came to ask my forgiveness."

"Did you give it to him?" Simon asked, his voice threaded with hope.

She nodded. "He was badly injured. I dragged him into the abbey and forced him to drink from the Grail."

He frowned. "Does he still live?"

Fear etched her face. "I don't know. I'm almost afraid to check on him. He is just comeback into my life…"

He took her hand. "You've faced your fears before, Brianna. But this time you'll face them with me at your side. Let's go find out."

Chapter Twenty-two

A gust of wind swirled through the abbey as Brianna and Simon strode inside the entrance. Torches lit the hallway, sending golden light spilling across the stone walls. A monk stood guard at the doorway.

"The man who was in the entry, is he still alive?"

"Aye, he lives."

"Where is he?" Brianna asked.

The monk silently led them down another long hallway and pointed to the third cell on the right. A chill went through Brianna as she stepped inside the chamber and moved to the pallet beneath the small shuttered window. A simple crucifix hung on the wall over the bed. Other than a small table near the bedside that held a single candle, the room was devoid of anything else.

Brianna knelt by the bedside. The flickering candle light revealed that her father's eyes were closed. His face was ashen. She carefully drew back the cover to look at his wound. Someone had bandaged him. "Was his wound cleaned?" she asked the monk who stood in the doorway.

"Aye," the monk replied. "I cleaned it myself, and as I did, it seemed that the wound was beginning to heal right before my eyes."

The Holy Grail.

Brianna frowned down at the seemingly lifeless man. "Then why doesn't he wake?" she said more to herself than anyone else.

"Sometimes," the monk replied softly, "a man needs more than healing to pull him through adversity. Without a reason to live, it is easy to slip away."

Simon knelt beside her. "Perhaps if you talk to him."

He needed a reason to live
. She understood that sentiment only too well. "Father?" she whispered and stroked his bearded cheek.

His eyes fluttered and opened. He gazed about him for a moment until his eyes connected with hers. "You're alive," he whispered in a broken voice.

"You're awake." Brianna smiled down at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Better to know you are here." His lips tightened. "The battle?"

"Is over. De la Roche is gone as are his men. We are safe for now." Brianna stroked back the hair from her father's face.

He caught her hand, squeezed it. "I was not certain I would have the chance to say this again to you … the battle … oh, Brianna, I'm so sorry. It was never my wish to—"

"I know." Brianna returned the squeeze and placed his hand on his chest. "We have time in the future to say all that needs said."

He shook his head. "I wasted so much of it with my anger, my grief." A note of bitterness threaded his voice. "No more. I want to help." His gaze shifted to Simon. "My steward told me of your earlier visits. He informed me that you'd come for Brianna the first time and to ask about the catacombs the next. I am sorry I refused to meet with you. It would be an honor to store the Templar treasure in the catacombs beneath Rosslyn Chapel. And if you would allow me to help, I'd like to serve as guardian of the treasure if it will allow you and Brianna the freedom to live and move about the countryside and keep our people safe. You two belong together."

"I … we…" Brianna said in a rush as her cheeks heated. Simon had yet to declare himself or even talk of a life together. "You are mistaken."

The glimmer of a smile touched his lips. "I might have been blind to you before, my daughter, but I can now see what is clearly before me."

Brianna shifted her gaze to Simon's as fear suddenly gripped her. There was no longer de la Roche keeping them apart, or keeping them together. They were free to do as they pleased. But she no longer knew for certain what that meant for Simon and her. He had said he wanted to tell her something after the battle was through, yet he had not.

It took all her warrior's will and patience to keep her gaze locked with Simon's. Her heartbeat sped up. She swallowed dryly, waiting. Suddenly she felt as though she were standing on a precipice. All he had to do was hold out his hands to her and she would jump if it meant making a life with him. She had been changed by their adventure and she couldn't go back to her old life of being alone and lonely.

She kept her gaze on him and waited.

Simon couldn't move, couldn't speak. He needed a moment — just a moment — to savor the look of her right now. Her hair was wild around her face and smudges of blood were on her cheek, her neck, and down her arm. Yet, despite the signs of war, she had never looked more beautiful.

He didn't know what he had done in this life to deserve her love … and in this moment, he didn't care. All he knew was that God had given him the gift of Brianna and he was going to take it. He brought his hand up in a tentative, hopeful gesture and touched her cheek.

"Brianna, marry me." Gazing down into her luminous green eyes he felt none of the sorrow that had lingered inside him since Teba. Instead, he felt powerful, larger than life, able to do any task set before him. Something deep in his soul expanded, and an aching, loving tenderness filled his heart. "I want to spend the rest of my days loving you, if only you will have me."

She stared at him, feeling dazed. His words were like a bright ray of sunlight, offering her the warmth and security she'd sought her whole life and never expected to find. But there were still things between them, things that needed said. "We will probably always battle each other. Can you live with that?"

His gaze softened. "I look forward to each and every one."

Her heart sped up. "And our daughters, if they want to be warriors, will you allow it?"

"I encourage it!" He reached for her hands, held them tightly in his own. "I want many strong daughters and sons. Is that a problem?"

"Nay," she whispered.

"Then you'll marry me?"

"I shall." The minute the words left her mouth, she felt an almost unbelievable sense of joy blossom inside her chest. 

Their gazes locked. His was unblinking and filled with determination, as if he'd glimpsed what it was he wanted from this life and would do anything on earth to see it was never taken away.

Her eyes glittered with tears as the most profound sense of love warmed her to the core of her being.

"That's my girl!" her father's voice cut in, bringing them both back to the reality that they still knelt before his sick bed.

The monk at the doorway cleared his throat and if Brianna was not mistaken, tears misted his eyes. "Are you not forgetting one small thing?"

Brianna and Simon shared a puzzled look.

"Are you not still a monk yourself, Brother Simon?"

Simon's hands dropped to his side. "Aye. There is that one small obstacle that only Archbishop Lamberton can rectify."

Brianna straightened. "Then we had best get my father packed up for travel. We'll deliver him to Rosslyn Castle on our way to Edinburgh to see that archbishop."

All eyes in the room filled with surprise.

"What are you all looking at?" Brianna frowned. "We have work to do. Nothing and no one will stand in the way of my marrying this man. Do you hear?"

Simon chuckled as he rose to his feet and helped Brianna up beside him. "You heard the lady. We have work to do. Let's get to it, shall we?"

It took another day to bury the dead at Pennyghael Abbey, and three days more to travel across the countryside to Rosslyn Castle where Simon and Brianna said goodbye to her father. They promised to return with the treasure soon. But before they could do anything more, they had to see Archbishop Lamberton. Simon felt his Templar vows like a weight upon his shoulders. He longed to be free of the Brotherhood so that he could accept his true calling as Brianna's husband.

It was half a day more of hard riding before he and Brianna finally arrived at the gates of Saint Giles's Church in Edinburgh. As he dismounted, his body cried out for rest. There would be no rest for either of them until they knew the archbishop's decision.

He helped Brianna down from her horse, and tethered the animals. They proceeded into the church and up the altar, where he knew Archbishop Lamberton would be waiting.

Pale afternoon sunlight filtered in through the stained glass windows on either side of the aisle, illuminating the man at the front of the church. The cleric was not kneeling at the altar as Simon had expected; instead, he stood contemplating the crucifix hanging from the wall.

"Simon Lockhart." Archbishop Lamberton turned his gentle gaze upon the Templar tunics folded neatly in Simon's hands. The holy man's gaze shifted to Brianna with no hint of surprise. "I've been expecting you both. Lady Brianna." He bowed his head in greeting before returning his gaze to the crucifix. "It is done then?"