Forbidden Legacy (10 page)

Wood snapped.

A stream of water gushed through the break.

Shouts for tinder, blankets, or anything to fill the gash rang out as his men ran toward the spewing torrent.

Stephan reached the damage, grabbed oiled rags from a large pile, and shoved the cloth inside.

“Move back!” a knight called. Once clear, he thrust a plank into the cloths, bracing the other end against a beam.

The rush of water slowed.

“We need another board to the right side,” Stephan ordered.

Thomas wedged a wooden plank against the last.

The stream of water slowed to a dribble.

“We must have hit the reef,” Thomas shouted over the roar of wind.

“Aye.” Stephan glanced at Aiden as he hurried toward them, water sloshing with his every step. “How far are we from shore?”

“Close. We have kept the rudder tight, but the wind and waves have been tossing us shoreward all night.” Aiden grimaced. “The last swell shoved us too near.”

“We are taking on too much water,” Stephan yelled. “We must beach the ship before we sink. Aiden, tell Rónán to order the sails dropped immediately, find a break in the reef and have the oarsmen row to the beach. After daybreak, we can make any repairs during low tide.”

“Aye.” Aiden climbed over debris and he made his way toward the ladder.

Wind howled from above.

The vessel groaned.

Another swell slammed against the hull.

“There is water on my cabin floor . . .” Katherine halted at the entry to the hold. Illuminated in the lantern light, her face paled. “We are sinking!”

Bedamned! He didna need a panicking female. “Stay there!” Stephan ordered.

Cailin nodded to Stephan. “Take your wife above. The largest damage has been taken care of. I will help Thomas and the others finish up securing the brace.”

Stephan nodded. “I will have someone call down right before we impact.” Furious she'd nae remained in her cabin, where he could find her if necessary, he strode to her, caught her arm, and started toward the bow.

Katherine tried to pull free. “What are you doing?”

“We,” he growled, “are going up the ladder.”

Her eyes wide with fear, she stared at the smashed wood where water continued to stream into the hull. “What about the men? 'Tis too dangerous for them to remain here. Thomas and Cailin are—”

“Experienced sailors,” Stephan interrupted, tugging her with him. “Plans dinna always go as we hope. We will be ashore soon.”

“Ashore?” She stared at him as if he had gone mad. “How?”

“We are beaching the ship.” He set her on the ladder. “Go. There isna time to explain.”

As he stepped above deck in her wake, a gust, laced with the whip of water, blew past.

Off-balance, Katherine screamed as she started to fall.

Stephan hauled her to him and headed toward the port side.

“Stephan—”

God's blade, he didna have time for her questions! “Hold on to the rail!”

Knuckles white, her fingers curled over the wood. “I thought you were knights, not sailors.”

“We are what we need to be.” Another wave crashed against the hull. White water spilled over the bow, crashed onto the deck, rolled toward them in a violent swirl.

Stephan caged her body against his, clenched the rail, and braced his feet. “Hold on!”

Storm-black water raced across the sodden planks, streaming around boxes, spilling into the hull, and rushing toward them.

On a groan, the ship angled up.

The wall of water shifted, poured off the deck and into the angry churn below.

Relieved, he faced Katherine. “Are you hurt?”

* * *

Heart pounding, her hair drenched, and each breath laden with a salty brine, Katherine nodded, more terrified than ever before. In the numerous times she'd sailed with her father, never had she experienced such a ferocious storm. “I am fine.”

The bow slammed through an oncoming breaker.

Stephan took the brunt of the water surging over the edge.

More of her reserve toward her husband eroded. Though he'd assured her that he didna want her friendship, he never hesitated to protect her.

She should be thankful her godfather knew a warrior of such quality, that Stephan was a man she could respect and more.

The ship cut through another huge wave.

Her husband's gaze met hers with a fierce warning. “Dinna let loose of this railing, understand?”

On a hard swallow, she nodded.

Stephan rejoined his men and began calling out orders. As one, he, Aiden, Rónán, and several other knights pushed on the rudder.

The ship groaned, cut to the right.

A large scraping ripped through the storm-fed air.

The galley lunged forward.

The men cheered.

“Ready for a hard turn to port,” Stephan called, then waved to the man near the ladder. “Warn all below deck to prepare for impact.”

“Aye.” The knight slid down the ladder shouting for everyone to brace themselves.

Terrified as the ship dove into the next trough, Katherine barely caught her breath before they were again thrown up.

From below, oars dipped into the water, pulled back in unison.

The horizon bobbed into view, the shore a blur of spray, sand, and rocks.

“Turn hard to port, now!” Ronan's voice boomed above the scream of wind.

Men's faces taut with determination, they pushed.

Water slammed onto the deck, slid over the side as the vessel angled down into the next trough.

Wood grated against sand. The ship shuddered, jolted to the left.

The next wave threw the craft sideways.

Through the slash of rain, Stephan met her gaze. “Hold tight!”

Heart pounding, she nodded, the salty spray whipping her face. “What are you going to do?”

“Help the men lower the sails before the vessel is cast onto the rocks.” Rain-filled wind slashed Stephan as he fought his way to help several men working on the mast. In moments they'd lowered the sails. Another wave caught the ship, but with the oarsmen working in unison with the incoming wave, the craft surged forward and wedged in the sand.

His body angled against the wind, Stephan used the rail to make his way back. “How do you fare?”

Shaken. Terrified. “I-I am fine.”

Another wave battered the galley. The ship rolled several degrees.

Katherine started to slide.

With a curse, Stephan wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her snug.

Body trembling, she glanced up, the weave of danger heightening her senses, as did her awareness of him. “I thank you,” she said, her words unsteady. “I would like to think I would have caught myself.”

Mouth grim, his eyes held hers. “I willna take any chances.”

The steel in his voice moved her. Regardless of what he wished, of his earlier words meant to push her away, he cared.

A large wave struck the hull. The vessel scraped farther up the beach.

His hold tightened. “God's blade!”

Heart pounding, she scanned the swath of rain-pounded sand and rocks, the craft parallel with the shore. “What is wrong?”

“Look at how far the waves are rolling up the shore.”

Confused, she scanned the coast. “The breakers are reaching the base of the trees.”

“Which tells me 'tis high tide.”

Worry edged through her. “Is that bad?”

“Aye. Had we run aground during low tide, once we completed repairs, the incoming flow would have aided us in moving to open water. If the ship is too high on the sand, even with other vessels helping to drag us seaward, there is a risk that we canna wedge ourselves free.” He grimaced. “If the storm continues much longer and we sustain further damage, a point that may be irrelevant.”

“What if the destruction is nae reparable?” she asked, voicing her worst fear.

Eyes hard, Stephan gazed toward open water, where the remainder of the galleys battled the storm's fury. “Once we transfer the cargo, we will have to abandon the ship until we can return.”

“What if while we are away, another storm pulls the ship out to sea, or another crew commandeers it?”

Mouth tight, he shrugged. “'Tis a risk we have to take.”

“I am sorry.”

“Lass, you have done naught to be sorry about.”

“Have I nae?” she said, her voice rough with frustration. “'Tis because of me that we sail to Avalon Castle.”

Hazel eyes glinted with anger. “We sail because of the English bastard's greed. Nae you. The Sassenach will rue the day they dared take what isna theirs.”

His use of the Scottish name for the English matched her anger toward them. He was right. The English had tossed her into this nightmare, from which, since her escape, she doubted she would ever recover.

Until she'd met Stephan.

Since that fateful day, her husband had never promised anything he hadna achieved. Though she hadna seen him in battle, with his skill shown during sword practice, his confidence when making decisions and giving orders without hesitation, she was convinced he and his knights were warriors to be feared.

As important, now she didna feel so alone. Though he would deny the bond, Katherine believed they'd established a friendship.

Another wave crashed into the side.

Water thundered up, shattered in large drops around them, swept across the deck with a loud whoosh.

His hold on her remained firm.

Comforted in her husband's arms, Katherine leaned against him. That Stephan had erased her fears of being held by a man left her stunned. Because of his kindness and compassion, he'd allowed her to lower her shield of distrust.

Another large wave struck the hull.

“We must disembark. We will use the rope ladder. When you reach the bottom, the water will be rough but shallow.” Stephan wrapped his fingers around hers and led her toward the bow.

Without hesitation, touched by a sense of destiny, Katherine followed.

S
treaks of red filled the cloud-scarred sky as the sun lingered on the edge of the horizon. The waves gliding up the beach were at odds with the towering swells that had ravaged the land hours before.

Flutters of wind caressing her face, Katherine studied the galley. Lodged in the sand at an awkward tilt, with low tide upon them, most of the hull stood exposed. The beating the ship had taken as they'd worked their way shoreward had destroyed the storm-weakened boards. The carnage of broken planks lay spewed along the shoreline.

Weariness lining Stephan's face, he sloshed through the incoming wave toward her.

The hours he and his men had worked to secure the ship to prevent the rough seas from tossing it against the outcrop of rocks had left them exhausted. “Can the ship be repaired?”

He shot the vessel a look of disgust and shook his head. “The damage is far worse than I expected. We were fortunate to have made it ashore.”

Broken boards bobbed in the surf with innocent abandon, each wave shoving them farther down the coast.

She frowned. “What are we going to do?”

“After sunset my men and I will begin moving our cargo to the other vessels.”

A wave rolled past the time-worn rocks poking from the sand along the shore. “And our ship?”

“Once we seize Avalon, I will return with several men to make the necessary repairs, then sail her home.”

His plans made sense, but nae the timeliness of the transfer of cargo. Lengthening shadows encased the men as they rowed in from the four other ships anchored offshore, their hulls rocking against the smooth roll of the swells. “'Twill be safer to move the goods before dark.”

His expression grew unreadable. “The cargo's transfer will be done this night.”

“Why? And before you dinna answer,” she pressed, tired of his continual evasion of her questions, the mystery that seemed to surround him and his crew at every turn, “as lady of Avalon Castle, 'tis my place to know.”

A wry smile touched his lips, faded as fast. “I have nae yet decided your place.”

The donkey's arse! “Though I was coerced into this marriage, Avalon Castle is
my
home. You bear the title of Earl of Dunsmore through a king's grant, nae blood.” At his narrowing eyes, she stepped forward. “Nor,” she continued, her words crisp, “have you answered my question.”

Silence.

“Is your cargo so precious that 'tis necessary to keep the contents secret from your wife?” His hesitation prodded her curiosity. Why was he so determined to shield her from what they carried? It wasna as if the hulls were packed with gold.

Unease trickled through her. Had she stumbled upon the truth? Were he and his men involved with notorious dealings? “Have you and your men stolen something?”

He stared at her as if a rock had dropped on her head, leaving her senseless. “What?”

“The reason you avoid explaining what is in the crates. Are the goods stolen from the English?”

“Nay.”

“But 'tis of great importance?” she pressed.

Mouth taut, Stephan crossed his arms over his chest. “I would think a lass would have more to ponder than wooden crates.”

If 'twas nae stolen, what cargo could warrant such secrecy? “Does King Robert know what you transport?”

Stephan nodded.

The tension in her shoulders relaxed. If her godfather knew, then whatever they carried must play a part in the reuniting of Scotland. But however logical, she sensed she'd missed an integral detail. Having to pry out the few snippets of information she'd garnered, she doubted Stephan would explain further.

Neither would she be kept away. “I will remain ashore until all of the goods are transferred.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “'Tis safest if you are rowed to one of the ships before sunset. I will join you there once we are through.”

“Safest?” Anxiety prickling her skin, she scoured the thick stand of trees bordering the coast. “Throughout the day you and your men have searched the area several times. This late, I would think anyone about would have made camp for the night.”

Stephan shrugged, thankful Katherine's questions had moved away from the cargo. Though wed, their union hardly allowed him to share Templar secrets. “Edward of Caernarfon has returned to England, but many of his troops remain. Though nae continuing to push north, until his knights withdraw from Scotland, we must remain on guard.”

The slosh of steps sounded through the shallow water.

Stephan glanced up.

Droplets rolled off Thomas's boots as he strode through the frothy tips of the oncoming wave. Paces away, he halted, nodded to Katherine, and then Stephan. “Once the sun has set, the men will be ready to begin.”

“Excellent. Lady Katherine needs to be taken to Colban's ship.” He made a slow sweep of the nearby forest. The growing shadows made an excellent place for anyone to hide. “Before nightfall, I will search the area to ensure we have nay unwanted visitors.”

“I will send Cailin with you,” Thomas said.

Stephan nodded. “I—”

A rustle of leaves sounded from the woods to their left.

God's blade! Stephan shoved Katherine behind him. The slide of steel against leather sounded as he and Thomas withdrew their swords. “Step forward and show yourself!”

At his demand, the Templars working nearby ran over, unsheathing their own weapons.

A muttered curse sounded from the dense foliage, then an elderly man stepped from it. His wizened face cast in suspicion, the stranger walked toward them. At the rim where grass gave way to sand, he halted.

Though the man's dagger remained sheathed, Stephan refused to lower his guard. He'd witnessed similar strategies: a lone man sent out while warriors remained hidden in the surrounding trees and waited until their foes secured their weapons. “State your name and loyalty.”

The elder glanced toward the ship. Surprise flickered in his eyes; then his shrewd gaze shifted to Stephan. “Feradac MacLairish,” his deep voice rumbled. “My home is Scotland, and my fealty is to our new king, Robert Bruce. And what of yours?”

“I support King Robert as well,” Stephan replied. He nodded toward the beached ship. “During last night's storm our galley was run against the rocks. We beached her aground before she sank. What brings you here?”

Aged eyes again glanced toward the anchored vessels. “'Tis fine ships that sail with you.”

Stephan stilled. Upon departing La Rochelle, they'd removed their Templar flags and any other indicators of their being of the Brotherhood. There was naught in sight to reveal their identity. “You havena answered my question.”

“I havena.” The gruff look on the man's face faded to a weary smile. “I fish these waters and was searching for my small boat, which broke free last night. You have nae seen it, have you?”

Stephan lowered his blade a degree. A fisherman would notice the fine craftsmanship of the vessels. And he would be familiar with the local currents, tides, and mayhap the waters surrounding Avalon Castle. “I have seen naught. Where do you live? If we see your boat, we will return it to you.”

The elder gestured to the north. “A village up the shore. 'Tis growing too dark to continue my search and I was about to head back when I heard the sound of men.” He grimaced at the large puncture in the side of their ship, stranded on the sand. “A nasty piece of luck.”

“Indeed.” Stephan sheathed his blade; the muffled slide of steel on leather echoed behind him as his men followed suit. “I am Stephan MacQuistan.” He took Katherine's hand, drawing her from behind him to his side. “This is—”

The man's eyes widened with shock, and then a smile touched his lips. “Lady Katherine?”

“You know me?” she asked, the surprise in her voice matching Stephan's.

“I almost dinna recognize you, my lady,” the man admitted, a sheepish expression on his face. “Several years have passed since I saw you last. I had traveled to Avalon Castle to speak with your fath . . .” Grief crumbled Feradac's face. “God, I am sorry for your loss. A fine, kind man was your father. As I do, my clan still grieves. 'Twas a black day indeed, and the basta . . .” He paused, clearing his throat. “ 'Twas a murderous act by the English.” Shrewd eyes slanted an assessing look at Stephan.

“He is my husband,” she stated.

The pride in Katherine's voice caught Stephan off guard, but he kept his expression unchanged, nae wanting the elder to be suspicious of their union, or think it was anything unusual. Neither could he dismiss the warmth her words brought.

Until this moment, though they'd forged a peaceable existence between them, he hadna believed she would ever look upon their marriage as more. With ease he could imagine her eyes darkening as they rested on him, how her mouth would taste, the soft, silken slide of her lips against his skin.

Or had she given her pride-filled words to the elder to suppress any questions? Hesitant at finding a way to handle the possibility of their growing closeness, Stephan smothered his musings. 'Twas safer than the unwanted thoughts inspired by believing she wanted their relationship to strengthen. Pulse unsteady, Stephan focused on Feradac. Loyal to her family and the Bruce, he would be a man they could trust, and one who would give them sound information.

“I didna hear you were betrothed, my lady,” the elder said. “When did you marry?”

Red touched her cheeks. “But days ago. My husband's men travel to reclaim my home.”

A smug expression settled upon Feradac's face. “'Tis a fine lesson you will be teaching the blasted English.” He shot Stephan a cool look. “But I dinna agree with bringing the lass.”

“'Twas upon my insistence,” Katherine stated.

The man eyed Stephan a moment longer, then his expression moved to Katherine. A smile tugged at his lips. “Your father said you were stubborn.”

“I am,” she agreed, laughter in her voice, “much to my husband's chagrin.”

“Nay doubt he will come to appreciate the trait, one you shared with your father.” The fisherman nodded to Stephan. “If you need anything, let me know. If I canna help, I will pass word to those in the village. From herbs to swords, we will lift our arms with you.”

“I thank you for your offer,” Stephan replied, humbled by the man's generosity.

Movement seaward had him glancing back. Against the darkening sky, his men were rowing several boats shoreward. Though Feradac's allegiance lay with her father's clan, neither would he risk exposing to him that he and his men were Templars, or raise interest in their cargo. October thirteenth, the day King Philip would denounce the brotherhood as outlaws, would come soon enough. “If you would share the local currents, tides, and waterways surrounding Avalon Castle, 'twould greatly aid us in planning our attack.”

Wrinkled eyes filled with pride. “ 'Twould be an honor. I am sure other fishermen in the village will be anxious to provide what they have learned while fishing in Avalon's waters as well.” He glanced skyward. “ 'Tis growing late. I would be remiss if I didna invite you and Lady Katherine to my humble abode while your men finish up here.”

Along with the ship's damage, several crates had broken open within the hull. With Feradac's offer, in addition to removing the risk of Katherine seeing any of the Templar treasure, the tides and other information the fishermen in the village would give was a valuable asset to their quest. He met the elder's gaze. “We thank you for your offer, and we accept.”

A smile touched his weathered face.

Stephan glanced at Thomas. “Katherine and I should return by midmorning.”

His friend nodded.

“Follow me.” The elder headed down the shoreline, the sunlight streaming through the fading wisps of purple and black.

As they followed several paces behind the fisherman, Katherine met her husband's gaze. “I thought you wanted to leave at first light?”

“Feradac and the villagers' knowledge of the local waterways will save us much needed time,” he said, his words quiet. “And they can share insight on how best to approach the secret entry.”

Her face paled. “You canna tell him about the hidden passage.”

Stephan glanced forward to ensure the elder continued and then halted. “I would never do anything so foolish. You question me at every turn, as if I am a smith more familiar with crafting weapons than wielding them. I am a man seasoned in war. Dinna question my tactics further.”

“'Tis worry that causes my foolish questions.”

He was far from appeased, but 'twas a start. “Never would I do anything to endanger you.”

Somber eyes held his. “I know.”

The pride in her voice as she'd told the fisherman of their wedded state stumbled to his mind. Unbidden, warmth touched him.

The last rays of the sun embraced her face like a shimmering caress as her blue eyes lowered to his mouth.

Desire rippled through him. Throat dry, Stephan cupped her chin. “Kath-”

“ 'Twill be night soon,” the elder called back. “Stay close. Around the bend the shore becomes rocky. If you dinna know the way, 'tis dangerous.”

A rueful smile touched Stephan's lips and he brushed an errant strand from her cheek. “However gently said, 'twould seem we have been chastised.”

Mirth twinkled in her eyes. “Indeed, my husband, 'twould seems we have.”

The soft richness of her voice lured his gaze to her mouth and his smile faltered. God's blade, he wanted to kiss her! Though the Grand Master had instructed the Knights Templar to marry, never had Stephan believed he would find a woman who would make him want her.