To Tempt a Knight (11 page)

William and Siobhan hiked up the mountain at a steady pace. Silence had fallen between them as they concentrated on their surroundings. Yet as they climbed, William kept asking himself what he was so afraid of.

Tension that hadn’t been there while they’d slept hung heavy in the morning air. He’d hurried them out of camp after they’d finished their meal, telling Siobhan it was because he wanted to take full advantage of the daylight. He knew it was more than that.

He needed to keep busy. Clinging to a mountainside for balance and support meant there was little time to think about or give in to the desire to wrap his arms around her once more. Her softness beckoned like the light of a candle to a lost and lonely moth.

Was he lost and lonely? He was starting to think so.

They continued to hike through the day, until finally, as the late afternoon cast long shadows, William slowed his pace. He turned to Siobhan. “Let’s stop here and rest. We need to decide whether to go on or start looking for a camp for the night.”

Siobhan nodded and came forward to rest against a large boulder that sat off to the left near a copse of trees. She dabbed at her temples and neck with the back of her hand.

He reached inside his saddlebag for the bladder of water he kept there and offered it to her.

“My thanks,” she said. She took a long drink.

“My apologies, Siobhan, for pushing you so hard today. But we cannot afford to stop until I know we’re safe.”

“What do you mean? I thought we’d left de la Roche far behind.”

“We did, but last night I found tracks in the woods.”

She frowned and handed the water back to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He took a drink before he answered. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“We are partners in this, William.” Her hand moved to the place in her gown where she’d hidden the scroll. “For better or worse. I deserve to know the dangers.”

He nodded. “Agreed.”

She hesitated a moment before she continued, as though trying to decide if she should press him on the matter. “Are we still being followed?”

“I don’t know for certain. But it is only one man. If we stay alert, we’ll be fine. But we must be cautious. A lot is at stake.”

A flicker of worry brightened her eyes. “Perhaps we should keep going.”

He returned the bladder to his saddlebag and set it on the ground at her feet. “We will, but just to be safe, why don’t you rest here a moment. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see that we are not being followed.”

Siobhan watched as William left her to double back to where they had just hiked. He’d said no one was following them. Had something happened to change his mind? For a moment she considered following him, then changed her mind. She was tired and would welcome a rest, no matter how short.

Despite her attempt to relax, the thought of unknown danger kept her on edge. Siobhan wandered to the edge of the trees and picked up a thick tree branch from the ground. She carried the makeshift weapon back to the boulder and set it at her feet next to William’s saddlebag.

Now at least she could defend herself if the need should arise. Her thoughts settled as she leaned back, and the one thing she’d tried not to think about since leaving the monastery entered her mind. Her father. What was happening to him? William suggested that de la Roche wouldn’t kill him until he had the Spear. But did that mean he might harm him, torture him as she’d heard other Templars had been tortured after their arrests in France? Siobhan shivered and rubbed her arms in an effort to settle the goose-flesh that pebbled her skin. Her father was strong. She had to believe he’d be well while she and William searched for the one thing that would truly save him. Only the Spear could set him free.

Still trying to find a way to settle her mind, Siobhan dusted off her skirt. Pieces of her hair had tugged free of her tight plait. She brushed her fingers along the edges only to find a leaf here and a twig there. No doubt she’d acquired the extra decorations in yesterday’s fall. How had she missed ridding herself of them prior to now? She hurriedly picked out the debris and tossed it to the ground. Dust darkened her skirt and no doubt other parts of her person that she couldn’t see. She brushed herself off as best she could.

Siobhan closed her eyes and tipped her face up to the late afternoon sun. The heat was a welcome sensation upon her cheeks. Despite her dire thoughts only moments ago, an unexpected bubble of laughter rose inside her. She let it form, expand, break free in a bright musical sound.

Before she’d met William she had rarely laughed. She
still did not understand why she felt so different today from other days gone by. Yesterday she’d fallen into a pit. Today she was covered with sweat. She’d dipped into reserves of strength and energy to keep up with William as they hiked up a mountain. She’d never felt more unattractive or more covered with grime. Truly it was nothing to laugh about. And yet, she’d never had more fun.

A light breeze picked up and tossed the loose ends of her plait against her cheeks. She opened her eyes. Since they’d left the burned shell of her house behind, she’d felt different, changed in some way. All her life she’d waited for the day when things would be different for her and her father, for a day when she’d be set free to explore the world around her. That day was now, and for the first time in her life she was no longer afraid of what lay ahead.

“Siobhan?”

She startled at William’s voice. Running her fingers once more down the fabric of her dusty gown, she smiled up at him.

He smiled in return. “Whoever was tracking us is gone.”

“He probably couldn’t keep up with your pace.”

His smile broadened. “It was necessary. We can slow down now that I know we are safe.” He offered her his hand.

“We’re not stopping here?”

He shook his head. “Until we find a suitable shelter, we must keep going.” William’s fingers curled around hers and squeezed gently. “Just a little farther.”

At the warm, reassuring contact, a tingle moved through her. She forced her mind away from the sensation.

He released her hand and headed back up the mountainside. “You’re a quiet one,” William remarked.

“Seems you’re of a similar nature. Or perhaps we’ve
both been alone so long that neither finds conversation a must.”

He made a face. “Do you really believe that?”

She cast him a sideways glance. “Nay. It’s more a case of being out of practice.”

A smile came to his lips again. “Living in the monastery was quite the opposite. Conversations abound. The monks love nothing better than to discuss theology, politics, even what herbs are growing in the garden and how they should be used, at all hours outside the chapel.”

“It sounds rather pleasant.” She looked up at him quizzically. “Why did you leave the monastery?”

“Two reasons. Brother Kenneth encouraged me to go experience life outside its walls. And once he planted that seed, duty called.” His smile faded. “As I matured and mastered the use of my sword, I had a difficult time ignoring the discussions about Scotland’s abuses at the hands of the English.” He shrugged. “One day Simon and I had heard our fill. We left the monastery that day, along with Brother Kenneth, fired by purpose, and headed to Edinburgh, where we met up with other men who shared our desire to liberate our country.”

They came to a steep slope, forcing their conversation to end as William first navigated the incline, then turned to offer Siobhan his hand until they were back on even ground.

“That’s when you became a warrior.”

He nodded, matching his steps to hers. “Brother Kenneth remained a steady influence over us as he continued our training in Edinburgh. He remained dedicated to the Templars, while Simon and I—” His words broke off. “Simon and I were there to learn all about what life had to offer. We were so young and filled with ourselves.” He sighed. “Fortunately for us, God granted us the skill to see us through as we followed the Bruce to northern
England for his invasion. We helped launch raids on Yorkshire and others. That’s where our military skill and brazenness drew the Bruce’s notice. We became part of his elite guard.”

William’s hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. “Ten of us accepted the call as the Scottish Templars, the Bruce’s own warriors. For our devotion, the king gave us these swords, each bearing an emerald to remind us of our homeland.”

“I thought I recognized the sword from a drawing my father made. There were ten of you. Where are all of you now?”

Instantly his expression shuttered. He didn’t reply at once, and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer. “Dead. Except Simon, myself and two others.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s the price a warrior pays.”

William stopped midstride.

“What?”

“Listen,” he said.

Siobhan strained to hear whatever had alerted him. A low, deep hiss came to her. “Wind?”

“I cannot be certain, but we should proceed cautiously.” He drew his sword and moved ahead of her on the path.

The hissing came again. Louder, deeper. A shiver moved through her. She’d never heard the like before.

They set a steady yet cautious pace as they continued to climb. The ground beneath their feet became rocky and uneven, slowing their progress. Finally they came to a rock outcropping and the hiss suddenly became a roar.

William stopped.

Fine white mist danced in the air, wetting Siobhan’s neck and face. “What is it?” she asked when they stopped.

“I recognize the sound now,” he said as he reached for
Siobhan’s arm. He helped her forward until they stood on the edge of a crevasse that plunged over two hundred feet down. To their left, water surged forth from a hole in the rock face, cascading in a long, glistening stream toward the jagged rocks below. “A waterfall.”

Siobhan stared in awe at the pulsing display of water. She’d never seen anything like it before. “It’s beautiful.”

He frowned. “That may be true, but nature’s beauty has cut us off with nowhere to go.”

The edge of the mountain plummeted before them—a fissure in the earth’s crust formed by time and God’s divine hand.

“Could we hike around it?” Siobhan asked, trying to see what lay beyond the glittering, writhing water.

“It would take less time for us to find a way across the crevasse.”

“A way across?” Siobhan gasped. “It must be twenty feet from side to side.”

“We either find a way across, or turn around.”

“I refuse to give up.”

He grinned. “Then we go forward.”

“How?”

His gaze shifted to the area around them. His grin became a smile. “We’ll build a bridge.” He tossed down his saddlebag, and from within, he withdrew a long length of rope. “Come, help me.”

They spent the next forty minutes collecting hearty saplings that had fallen in the nearby woods. William dragged the four largest alongside the crevasse, and they began lashing the logs together with his rope.

When they had finished, their makeshift bridge stretched twenty-five feet long and a foot and a half wide. “How do we get it across the crevasse?” Siobhan asked.

“I have an idea. Pray it works.” William tied a length of rope to one of the end logs. A moment later, he stood
and walked the length of the bridge to the other side, stopping before a tall tree with one branch that jutted out over the open fissure. He tossed the rope up and over the tree limb, grasped the end that dangled down, then pulled. Slowly, one side of the wooden bridge rose into the air while the other side remained on the ground.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Siobhan asked.

“Pray that the bridge lands where it is supposed to. We are only going to get one chance at this. If I miss…”

She didn’t need him to finish his sentence for her to understand that if he missed, the bridge would tumble into the crevasse. “I have every faith.”

He released the rope.

Siobhan held her breath. The bridge fell, leaned to the right slightly, then slammed into place against the opposite side of the fissure. “It worked.”

They both hurried to the edge of the crevasse and, with a sense of relief, gazed at the wood bridge they had created.

“Who goes first?” Siobhan asked as the dust settled on the opposite side.

“You’re lighter. You should go first.”

Siobhan nodded, took a deep breath and slipped off the solid earth onto the wooden bridge.

The other side of the crevasse danced before her eyes as her dizziness from when she’d hit her head in the pit returned. Siobhan tensed, fighting the sensation. She fixed her gaze on the rocks at the opposite side. She had to keep her concentration and not give into weakness. She took a step, then another.

A third of the way there. She was dimly aware of William’s encouraging words as she continued. One step, another. She looked down. Water writhed below her in an unending, serpentine chain.

Her stomach dropped. She swayed.

“Don’t you dare fall.” William’s words broke through her panic. “Keep your eyes on the rocks ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that pushed her forward, but the intensity in his voice that steeled her resolve. She kept moving. She’d reached the two-thirds mark.

“You’re almost there.”

Her legs trembled as she pushed herself to continue. When she reached the other side, she sagged to the ground with relief. A glance to the other side of the crevasse told her that William had started across.

His progress was steady and even. He held his hands out at his sides, balancing himself as he came. Halfway across, an ominous crack sounded—the sound of breaking wood.

Panic screamed through Siobhan. The wood they had carefully bound together sagged, snapped. William surged forward, almost at a run now. The wood bent downward, threatening to slide into the crevasse on both sides.

“Hurry!” Siobhan surged to her feet. William dived for the sheer edge of the crevasse. The logs fell away. His big body thudded against the rock. His fingers dug at the ground. His breath came in ragged spurts.

“Give me your hands!” Siobhan grasped him and pulled back with all her might. Terror wormed icy tentacles through her body. She wouldn’t lose him. She couldn’t lose him.