Rage and Redemption

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Rage and Redemption Page 2

by Cyndi Friberg


  She must tell Brother Gabriel a man claiming to be his brother had arrived at the Krak des Chevaliers, but he was in the chapel attending Vespers. As she should have been, she realized with a small, rebellious smile.

  It was all so very strange.

  She turned her attention back to the manuscript page, determined to banish thoughts of the stranger from her mind. His striking features refused to stay suppressed. With a helpless sigh, she reached for a scrap of vellum and began to sketch.

  * * * * *

  Naomi angled her sketch of the stranger toward the lamplight and felt heat spread across her cheeks. Just his image caused her senses to respond. It was ridiculous.

  “I missed you at Vespers,” Brother Gabriel said from somewhere behind her. “What kept you so occupied that you neglected your evening prayers?”

  Carefully keeping the scrap of vellum turned away, Naomi pivoted on the stool and offered her warmest smile. “Adam and Eve. Well, mostly Adam.”

  Brother Gabriel chuckled and Naomi tried to release the tension gripping her abdomen. She studied her mentor with new interest as he crossed the scriptorium. There was nothing she didn’t know about this man or so she’d believed until a short time ago.

  He wore a long-sleeved black robe emblazoned with the distinctive white cross identifying him as a member of the elite Order of St. John of Jerusalem. Naomi felt proud to be part of such an important order. The Knights of St. John had been serving Western pilgrims as they traveled through the Holy Land for well over a century. One of their grandest accomplishments had been building a hospital in the heart of Jerusalem. Now members of the order were often called Knights Hospitaller.

  Naomi focused her attention on the man within the robe. Gabriel’s neatly trimmed hair was a bright blending of silver and gold, nearly opposite from the raven-black locks of the man claiming to be his brother. His eyes were a warm brown, but there were shards of gold Naomi had never noticed before.

  “Is something troubling you, Naomi? You are staring at me as if I have sprouted horns.”

  “Who is this man?” She handed him the scrap of vellum.

  His eyes widened for just a moment before he concealed his surprise. His throat worked as he swallowed awkwardly. “Where did you see him?”

  “He just left. You may have passed in the bailey.”

  He set the sketch aside and grasped both of her hands. Fear shone in his eyes as he searched her face and person. “Are you well? Did he harm you? Threaten you?”

  Naomi nervously licked her lips. “I’m fine. But why would that be your first assumption? Is he your brother as he claimed?”

  Releasing her hands, Brother Gabriel averted his face for a moment before he spoke. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  “Nay, not until you tell me why he frightens you. I have never known you to be afraid of anyone or anything yet I see fear in your eyes.”

  “Gideon can be dangerous, Naomi. I cannot pretend otherwise. He—”

  “Gideon,” she whispered. “He didn’t tell me his name.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Only that he is your brother. He asked where he could find you and when I wouldn’t volunteer the information, he became annoyed.” She had to fight back a smile as she remembered the heated embrace they had shared. “He can be quite intense.”

  “Did he touch you?” He took a step toward her. “You said he didn’t harm you.”

  “He didn’t harm me,” she said reassuringly. “What does he want with you?”

  “I’m not certain.”

  “Why did you never tell me you have a brother?” A faintest edge cut through her tone despite Naomi’s effort to conceal her disappointment.

  “It never occurred to me that you would meet.” He turned toward the door. “I must find him. His coming can only mean trouble for both of us.”

  * * * * *

  Gideon leaned against the stone wall of the mercenary barracks and stretched out his legs along the narrow cot assigned for his use. Crispin had chosen the cot on his left while the one on his right remained unoccupied. The barracks were spacious and surprisingly clean. Gideon had arrived with eight mercenaries and the castellan of Krak des Chevaliers had extended them hospitality without hesitation. The compound was massive. Ten additional inhabitants would hardly be noticed.

  Men of every shape and variety milled about the open room conversing with each other, some sharpening weapons. Gideon watched them with dispassionate interest in the smoky lamplight, his mind distracted by his encounter with Naomi.

  She had been lovely and spirited. Still, her emotional connection to Gabriel was what interested him most. Who was she? How had she come to be in Gabriel’s care? Did she know her “father’s” true nature?

  “Does he know you’re here?” Crispin asked.

  “I’ve yet to speak with him, but it’s only a matter of time. As soon as the girl tells him I’m about, Gabriel will come running.”

  Gideon had quickly learned having a human under his control was more than just convenient. It was necessary. Crispin safeguarded Gideon whenever he was vulnerable. Gideon didn’t allow him to remember many of the things they did together, but Crispin was loyal. A preternatural compulsion assured his loyalty.

  “This girl, is she comely?” Crispin asked with a characteristic grin.

  “She is wondrously fair.” Gideon felt his hunger stir as he remembered her sweet taste, so pure and innocent. “Her dark hair has just a hint of fire and her eyes hold the blue of an endless summer sky.”

  “How poetic,” Crispin teased him.

  The raucous sound of numerous conversations diminished suddenly, drawing Gideon’s attention toward the main entrance to the barracks. A Knight Hospitaller stood in the doorway, his dark monastic robes decorated only by the large white cross on his chest.

  Gideon suppressed his unconscious reaction to the symbol. Revulsion, fury and fear rolled through him. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, he managed to keep his expression composed. He focused on the individual clothed within the robes and ignored his discomfort.

  Nearly a century had passed since he last saw his brother face-to-face. The confrontation was long overdue. Drab robes didn’t distract from the purity of Gabriel’s features or the bright splendor of his gilt-colored hair. Gideon watched as he crossed the barracks. Gabriel managed to maintain a serene expression yet his gaze revealed his uncertainty.

  “Gideon,” he greeted calmly as he reached the cot.

  “Gabriel,” Gideon replied, his tone mocking.

  “What brings you to the Krak?”

  Before Gideon could answer, Gabriel noticed Crispin’s avid interest. “May we speak outside?”

  Gideon smiled. “Why? Do you have words for me that would make my friend uncomfortable?”

  “Making people uncomfortable seems to be your goal not mine.”

  He narrowed his eyes. How much had Naomi confessed? Surely she hadn’t shared all the details of their meeting. Swinging his legs to the floor, Gideon rose and followed his brother out into the night.

  Moonlight caught on the large cross atop the chapel’s bell tower, casting a dense shadow across Gideon’s path. His steps faltered and his stomach clenched. With a surge of stubborn determination, he marched through the shape and into the darkness beside the barracks. He didn’t stop until they were well away from curious ears.

  “How did you find me?” Gabriel asked.

  “It’s a simple thing to find someone who is following you. I had only to turn around. Did Michael dispatch you or do you willingly participate in my punishment?”

  “There is only one participant in your punishment, Gideon, and that is you.” Gabriel’s voice was firm, his expression guarded. “I am here. You cannot change that fact. When did you become aware of my presence?”

  “I saw you in Jerusalem. I thought you had some manner of assignment, but the more I thought about it, the more suspicious I became. How long have I been your assignm
ent?”

  Gabriel smiled and glanced away. “You have been more like a command center from which I am dispatched to other assignments.”

  “So you spy on me unless He has something of more importance for you to do?”

  “For the most part,” Gabriel agreed.

  “And you are only to observe? Not give me guidance?”

  “Would you accept my guidance should I give it?”

  Gideon chuckled, resting one shoulder against the barracks outer wall. “You’re nearly as good at avoiding questions as am I. You can speak only truth so tell me now. What role has Michael set for you?”

  Gabriel fidgeted. “I have been told to monitor your situation.”

  “And report back to Michael no doubt. How is the study coming? Have I learned my lessons well? How much longer am I to be banished from the Light, expected to live off these mortals?”

  “That is and has always been up to you. All Michael did was release your constraints. You claimed that we are slaves so Michael set you free.”

  “There is no freedom in what I have become,” Gideon sneered.

  “You are a creature of your own making. If you are not content, then change.”

  They glared at each other for a long moment.

  “Have all these years taught you nothing?” Gabriel asked.

  Anger boiled up within Gideon, tasting foul in the back of his throat. He folded his arms across his chest and began to pace. “Oh, my time with mankind has taught me many things. I’ve learned to be ruthless and to deceive. I’ve learned to manipulate others to my own will. I’ve learned to lust and covet. I’ve learned—”

  “Nothing you needed to know,” Gabriel interrupted impatiently. “Have you not seen the sacrifices they make for each other? Their tenderness and their loyalty, their courage and honor?”

  “Honor?” Gideon scoffed. “Honor is as much a myth as love.”

  “You have known love, Gideon. I love you unconditionally. You must learn how to give love, not how to be loved.”

  Gideon looked away from the hope and the expectation in his brother’s eyes. He gazed out into the night, drawing strength from the darkness.

  “Are you in love with her, Gabriel?” he asked in a quietly provoking tone. “Do you feel the full range of human emotions as I do, or did Michael spare you that torment?”

  “We speak of Naomi now?” Gabriel asked.

  “She is quite remarkable. The most intriguing combination of innocence and lush, feminine promise.”

  Gabriel took a step forward, anger hardening his features and brightening his gaze. “Leave Naomi alone. She has nothing to do with any of this.”

  Gideon grinned, amazed at how well he had guessed what his brother was feeling. “No wonder you masquerade as a monk. Your very nature makes the role effortless. Piety, selflessness and chastity are routine for an angel. You do not burn with lust, do you? You feel protective and responsible, but you feel nothing more for this girl.”

  “I have cared for Naomi since she was a babe.” Gabriel sounded defensive. His bright eyes narrowed in his perfect face. “Her mother died in my arms, and I have taken responsibility for the child ever since.”

  A deep chuckle rumbled in Gideon’s chest. “She is a child no longer, Brother Gabriel. And I will continue her education from here.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Gabriel demanded, frustration clear in his melodious voice.

  “Because I can,” Gideon snapped in return.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Aye, you do. That is the reason you stink of fear. You understand exactly what I intend for your precious ‘daughter’.” Gideon started back toward the barracks.

  “Will it ease your pain to hurt Naomi?”

  “That’s what I intend to find out.” He tossed the words over his shoulder without turning around.

  “She has done nothing to deserve this, Gideon. I will do everything in my power to protect her from you.”

  “Good.” He paused at the corner of the building. Penetrating the shadows with the golden intensity of his glare, he knocked Gabriel back a step. “I welcome the conflict, brother. I have grown quite accustomed to war.”

  Chapter Two

  The following day dawned bright and clear. Arid winds swept over the endless, sun-baked plains and warmed the thick stone walls of the mighty Krak. Naomi spent the day alone in the scriptorium. She didn’t mind the solitude for her work was engrossing.

  When she ventured from the scriptorium in search of food and wine, she learned that the castellan Brother Aaron had sent Brother Gabriel on an errand. She had hoped to hear the outcome of his confrontation with Gideon. Apparently her curiosity would have to wait.

  Naomi heard the bells announcing Vespers and sighed. She’d attended Morrow Mass. Surely God would forgive her for neglecting her evening prayers—even if it was for the second day in a row.

  Amused by her thoughts, she rose from her stool and stepped back from the table to see the illumination from a different angle. She was satisfied with the design framing the figures. Eve was suitably evocative, but Adam still seemed flat and unremarkable.

  “Still trying to see beneath his fig leaf?”

  Naomi refused to be embarrassed. Ignoring the little shocks of sensation that erupted at the sound of Gideon’s voice, she tilted her head and continued to study the folio.

  “Something is missing,” she said.

  He laughed and stepped up beside her. His warm, exotic scent touched her nose and Naomi inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with Gideon.

  “If you cannot see beneath the leaf, how can you be certain?” he teased.

  Thinking herself fortified against the allure of his angular features, Naomi turned and looked at him. Her breath caught in her throat and heat pooled low in her belly. His golden gaze caressed her face, beckoning her.

  “Gideon,” she murmured.

  “You have spoken with Gabriel I see. He was not at all pleased to learn I’d been alone with you. Is he always so protective?”

  “He has never before had call to be protective.” Was he drawing attention to the fact that they were alone again? “I have always been treated kindly.”

  “By monks and servants?”

  She smiled, amused by his haughtiness. “I am myself a servant and I’ve always been surrounded by monks.”

  “You’re no servant.” He nodded toward the illumination. “Is that the work of a servant?”

  She dragged her gaze away from his face and looked at the manuscript page. “Nay, that is the work of Brother Gabriel,” she grumbled.

  The warm brush of his thumb along her jaw made Naomi jump. She looked up at him and he smiled. His moods swung from charm to menace and back again with dizzying speed.

  “Is Gabriel the only one who knows the truth?” His forehead furrowed and then he asked, “How do you manage the deception? Gabriel has an aversion to lying.”

  Naomi laughed at the understatement. “Brother Gabriel refuses to lie. I think he fears his tongue will catch fire if he utters one untrue word.”

  Gideon chuckled and tingles coursed down her spine. Why did her senses respond to everything he did?

  “Did he teach you the technique or have you studied with other scribes?”

  “Brother Gabriel instructed me in the art of illumination, but I don’t think he realized where it would lead when the lessons began.”

  “It is rather complicated to become proficient at something basically forbidden to your gender.”

  She nodded, trying not to let her anger show. “When my work matured to a certain level, Brother Gabriel took the page to Brother Aaron, the castellan of the Krak des Chevaliers. Brother Aaron told Brother Gabriel what a wonderful job he had done. Brother Gabriel tried to correct the misconception but Brother Aaron sees what he wants to see.”

  Naomi bristled each time she thought about the narrow-mindedness surrounding her. She was expected to be meek and mild, obedient and submissive simply because she was femal
e. Well, Brother Gabriel had nurtured her mind and encouraged her imagination. He had supported her secret passion for illumination, not realizing that the end result would be discontent.

  Tossing her hair over her shoulders, Naomi finished, “So Brother Gabriel has presented each of my pages to Brother Aaron, not bothering with an explanation, and Brother Aaron believes what he will.”

  “I see.”

  He turned back toward the table and Naomi took a moment to study him. He was dressed again in black, both his tunic and surcoat. Today his long hair was unbound, falling past his shoulders in soft waves. Never had she seen a man more pleasing to the eyes.

  His head shifted toward her and she heard him draw a slow, deep breath.

  “What are you thinking about?” He punctuated the question with a salacious smile.

  Naomi tried to swallow past the lump lodged in her throat. There was no possible way he could know the nature of her thoughts. And yet he seemed to sense her arousal—or smell it? Was that possible? Worrying her bottom lip, she took several steps away from him.

  She crossed to the open window and leaned out, allowing the wind to brush her heated cheeks. After a moment, she turned to face him, resting back against the sill.

  “What do you want…?” She paused. “Is it Sir Gideon?”

  “It is simply Gideon.” He remained by the table, his gaze intent upon her face.

  “Of?” she pressed him.

  “I call no place home. I live by my sword and swear fealty to no man.”

  “Then what do you want with me, Gideon?”

  “I want to know everything there is to know about you. I want to teach you everything there is to know about me.”

  Naomi disregarded the strange tightening in the pit of her stomach. This was a game to him. He couldn’t really care about her. They had only just met. “I’ve no deep, dark secrets, and if you do, I have no interest in them.”

  “Have you always lived with the Brothers of St. John?” he asked as if she hadn’t spoken.

 

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