Knight Errant: A Highland Passage Novel (11 page)

“Is that not so, Sir Robert?” Sir Thomas met Robert’s eyes with a composure that Robert admired.

A few seconds too late, he replied, “Yes.” His nod was a bit too pronounced, but it was the best Robert could do when presented with so thoroughly false an accounting of their journey together.

Thomas continued. “Our travel companions must regrettably leave in the morning to continue their journey.”

“Oh, and where to?” Father Abbot looked straight at Robert.

“Inverness.”

And that, along with some cordial conversation, was the extent of Robert’s part in the lie. During their walk to Perth, Robert had cautioned Violet not to speak around others, lest she reveal her strange accent and prompt more questions than they had answers for.

Father Abbot turned his attention to Sir Thomas and Sister Claudine. “Of course I will have to seek permission with the bishop for your transfer, Sister. As you know, you cannot simply move about as you please. There is a process, and it can take time. In the meanwhile, you are welcome to stay here.” His eyes drifted to Sister Claudine, whose cheeks were stained with a blush.

Robert suspected the color in her cheeks came from fear. He imagined she wasn’t used to lying. With a quick glance, Robert checked to see if the abbot might wonder the same, but the young abbot regarded her with an altogether different look in his eyes. It was one of appraisal, which made Robert uneasy. But a quick glance at Sir Thomas showed no similar suspicion on his face, so Robert decided he had misread the abbot, and he set aside his concern. So matters were settled with relative ease. His parents would settle into life at the Blackfriars Monastery, and Robert and Violet would leave in the morning.

Sir Thomas leaned forward. “There was one additional matter remaining.”

Robert shot a pointed look at his father. “Sir Thomas, the hour grows late. Any other matters in need of discussion can surely wait until tomorrow.”

Sir Thomas returned Robert’s glance with narrowing eyes then gave him a nod. “Yes, of course.” Turning to the abbot, he said, “It's been a long and tiring day for all of us.” His eyes swept over the women then returned to the abbot. “May we please have your leave to retire for the evening?”

“You may. We shall find time to speak in the morning.”

They all rose and bade farewell to the abbot before proceeding down the hallway to their rooms for the night. The women were first to be escorted to their cells. When Sister Claudine turned to bid them all good night, her eyes settled on Robert. His throat tightened, but he managed a cordial good night. She lifted her eyes to his and smiled. He hoped to always remember that smile and the kindness in her eyes.

Robert closed the door to his cell and lay down on the narrow cot. He would wait to go see Sir Thomas until he was sure everyone was asleep. Until then, he would think of a way to get the scroll from the young Thomas—even if he had to steal it. Otherwise, he would have failed in the mission his father had entrusted to him, and he wouldn’t do that.

I
T WAS STILL
dark when Robert tapped on Sir Thomas’s door. Once inside, he told the truth about what had happened to the scroll. After all, Thomas had already experienced time travel, so convincing him that Robert came from the future wouldn’t be an impossible task. The greater challenge would be convincing Sir Thomas to let Robert take the scroll for safekeeping. Having only just met, Thomas could think that Robert had any number of plans for the scroll, none of which the young Sir Thomas would approve.

Robert had one final truth to explain, so he said it simply. “I am your son.”

Emotions flashed through Sir Thomas’s eyes until the possibility of its truth at last settled on him.

“Sister Claudine is my mother.” The truth of her death weighed on Robert as he looked at his father. He would never tell Thomas that piece of the future, for there would be agony enough when it happened. “I was raised as a foundling. No one ever knew your secret.” When Thomas remained silent, Robert realized the rest of the truth. “You didnae ken.”

“She’s with child?” Thomas turned away. When he had regained his composure, he wiped his face and turned back to Robert.

From the way Thomas peered at him, Robert wondered whether his father was examining each feature and ascribing it to one parent or the other. Perhaps that convinced him more than any words Robert could say, for Sir Thomas spoke as if saying the words might make sense of it. “Robert. My son.”

Sir Thomas gestured toward a chair. Robert sat while Thomas sat on the edge of his cot.

“I was young and full of dreams and ideals when I joined the Templars,” Sir Thomas said. “I could see only the glory of doing God’s work. And there was glory, but there also was hardship and blood. It wore down my ideals until I wanted nothing more than to go to the country and live the life of a peasant, doing simple things. That is what I eventually did. I returned to France and, as I worked, found the peace I had lost.”

Sir Thomas’s eyes lit with a fond smile. “I met Sister Claudine when she was quite newly arrived. They sent her to farm in the fields, but she was too gentle-born to know what to do. They lost patience with her, so they assigned her to me. At that time, I oversaw the relics and copied texts. My days, between prayers, were filled with the preparation of inks, preparing parchment, and copying texts into illuminated books. Claudine was a gifted student and an engaging friend to talk to.

“She was the ward of an uncle who had chosen her life for her, according to cost. Since being a nun was cheaper than getting married, she found herself there. As full of life as she was, she had never been given the chance to live. It was different for me. I had made my own choice, and I had been in the world and seen what it could be. By then, I was content to live my life apart.

“Claudine was everything good about life and the world. I looked forward to each day beside her. I knew my feelings for her had grown beyond what was proper, but I convinced myself that as long as I never expressed them, my feelings would do no one harm. But one day we were bent over a book we were working on, and our hands were so close. She told me she was taking her vows on the morrow. I traced a blue vein along her hand, and my resolve shattered. I poured out my heart, and she told me she loved me. We met in secret that night, and we lay in each other’s arms and dreamed of a future together. But what future was there for us? She was riddled with guilt, for although she had taken no vows yet, she blamed herself for causing me to break mine. We wanted to run away, but where to? I had no means to support her. We talked in circles until dawn then hurried back to our cells before anyone missed us. That afternoon, I watched her say her vows, knowing that she loved me.” Thomas choked back bitterness. “Later she told me that she would not have me stumble alone. Whatever happened, we would be together. And we were until her death.”

Robert gripped his father’s shoulder then sank onto a wooden chair and buried his face in his hands. He was with a man near his own age, who loved as he loved. But the man was his father. Sir Thomas put a hand on Robert’s shoulder. Using sheer strength of will, Robert calmed himself and looked up.

“If you dare trust me, I swear I will take the scroll somewhere safe.” Robert held up his palm. “But before you trust me, I must tell you about it.” Robert explained what had befallen the scroll.

When he was through, Sir Thomas retrieved the scroll from under the bed. “Guard it well, my son. See that it is put safely back in the hands of the Templars.”

“I will.” Robert took the scroll, and the two men embraced.

“You’re a fine man. I’ll credit your mother with that.” Sir Thomas smiled.

Robert smiled back, but grief caught in his throat, for he knew that his mother wouldn’t have the chance to shape his character. That task would fall to his father.

Just as he was about to leave, Robert turned back. “Tell me something. I need to get back to 1559, but the last time we went to the cave, instead of taking us where we wanted to go, it brought us here.”

His father gave the question some thought. “From my travels and those of the Templars I’ve known, I can only surmise that where travel through time is concerned, we are ruled by our destiny. Some might call it God’s will, yet I have seen men make choices that fly in the face of anything God could possibly want them to do. Perhaps the power is found in the stones themselves. I only know that there are no mistakes. We are taken where we need to be, even if we do not always understand.”

Robert’s brow creased. “I was meant to meet you like this?”

Sir Thomas smiled. “I would like to think so, but perhaps it has more to do with Claudine or Violet—perhaps even the scroll. If it is meant to be somewhere, then it’s possible no one can truly destroy it.”

Robert nodded. “I would like to think that.”

Sir Thomas said, “You are not God. You are merely a man. If you fail in your mission, someone else will succeed.”

“But I want to succeed.”

“Of course you do. But if you worry about things you cannot control, you’ll be of less use to anyone. Give your all, then do not look back.” With that, he embraced Robert. “Godspeed, my son.”

Robert left with the scroll and a dozen questions his father wouldn’t be able to answer until he was older. So he went down the hall to Violet’s cell and tapped on her door. The door opened, and Violet slipped silently into the hall.

11

THE SEA VOYAGE

A
ship bound for Orkney sailed from Perth Harbour at dawn with Robert and Violet upon it. After stops at two ports on the way, their ship pulled into Wick Harbour, where Robert and Violet disembarked. She clung to Robert’s arm, feeling weak from the seasickness she had suffered the full length of the journey.

As they walked along the busy quay, Robert said, “Will you not even try to ride?”

Violet shook her head. “Right now, it’s all I can do to walk. And you know how I feel about riding. I have tried. It didn’t go well. Can’t you forgive this one flaw? It’s my only one.” She lifted her eyes, fully expecting him to laugh.

Robert suppressed a smile. “I suppose that I can.”

Violet slipped her hand around his elbow. “You’re too good to me, Robert.”

“Aye.” He grinned and kept walking until they found a stable with horses for hire.

Minutes later, they were riding along the coastline from Wick to Castle Girnigoe. Violet lifted her face to the wind and took in the staggering beauty. Steep, rough-sided cliffs faced the edge of the water with a defiance that dared the sea to confront them, which it did with unforgiving persistence. The wildness of this place appealed to her, and she found herself longing to stay.

Before long, the castle came into view. Jutting out into the water, it looked as bold as the rough cliff that formed its foundation. They presented a letter from Brother Thomas, which gained them admission to the castle and inside the keep. They were led to some chairs beside an inviting fire, where they waited. Soon a male servant entered and asked them to come with him. They were led into a library, where a gentleman sat at a desk. After introductions, John Sinclair, 3
^rd
Earl of Caithness inquired about their journey and spoke of the weather, by which time, all were comfortably seated. By now, Violet was used to being introduced as Robert’s wife. He had convinced her that doing so made their traveling alone together more proper.

Robert said, “My Lord, I’ve come to deliver something that was entrusted to me with instructions to leave it in the hands of a Sinclair.”

Lord Caithness lifted a brow, clearly intrigued. Robert offered him the quiver containing the scroll. He took it with interest and removed the scroll. As he uncoiled the linen, his eyes widened.

With a quick glance at Robert, he said, “Do you ken what this is?”

“Not entirely, no. Two hundred years ago, a Templar knight left it with the Blackfriars for safekeeping. Circumstances are such that we now feel it should be in the hands of a Sinclair. It is now where it belongs.” Robert maintained his posture, but his shoulders relaxed now that he was eased of his burden.

Lord Caithness eyed Robert quizzically. “Do you ken what it says?”

Robert shook his head. “My lord, I am only the messenger. But I do ken its value and that some would have it for themselves. It would be best to find a safe place to hide it.”

Lord Caithness gave a somber nod. The next moment, his mood shifted. He smiled first at Violet then Robert. “Will you stay and sup with us?”

With a quick glance at Violet, Robert turned to his host. “Thank you for your generous offer, my lord, but I’m afraid we must be on our way. We’re for Perth in the morning.”

With a nod, Lord Caithness thanked Robert for his service in delivering the scroll and wished them both well.

With the scroll safely ensconced in Castle Girnigoe, they left the castle and rode alongside the cliffs on their way back to Wick.

Robert had been quiet since leaving the castle, so Violet glanced back and said, “You must be relieved.”

“I’ve done what I set out to do.”

“Yes, you have. And that must bring a good feeling.”

He answered with a grunt.

B
Y THE TIME
their ship pulled into Perth Harbour, Violet had made up her mind not to board a ship ever again. The North Sea had afflicted her with the worst seasickness she had ever known. Soon after their feet touched ground, Robert found them a room in an inn, where she could rest and regain strength enough to climb the hill to the cave so they could travel back to the Perth of Robert’s time. Although he was reluctant to admit it, he was not fully recovered from his injuries, so he welcomed the rest.

Every part of her trembled as Violet attempted to climb the stairs in the inn. Robert slid his sturdy arm about her waist and practically lifted her, step by step, to the top of the stairs. Part of her fought her dependence upon him, but as weak as she was, that part lost. Unable to manage on her own, she was grateful for his strength and was reassured by his confidence. He had reason to be, for he was a formidable man. But for all of the power he wielded with a sword, his tenderness astonished her most.