A Knight to Desire

by Gerri Russell

  Brianna frowned. "You mentioned that de la Roche possesses two holy relics. Why does his possessing them concern you so?"

  Simon twisted toward her. "He stole both the sword of Charlemagne and the Holy Grail. With those two items, he holds the power to slay and to heal in the palm of his hands."

  A shiver rippled down Brianna's spine. "He will be a formidable foe."

  Simon nodded, but said nothing further.

  As they rode, Brianna glanced at the man beside her. She had not seen Simon for a year. He sat his horse with more confidence than he had when they were in Teba together. His bearing was proud, his gaze thoughtful, yet she didn't miss the lines of worry that were etched beneath his watchful eyes. And in those eyes there was a sadness that had not been there before. No doubt Simon had seen many horrific things in the time they'd been apart, but was that the reason for the sadness or something more?

  Her gaze shifted to his hands. They were large and well-shaped, strong, masculine, and lightly scarred. They were the hands of a capable warrior who was used to fighting. She shifted her gaze to her own hands. A light scar laced the back of her right hand that she'd received in one of the many battles leading up to Teba. Her left hand bore two smaller scars from early days of sparing with her brothers. The hint of a smile tugged at her lips. They both wore the evidence of their chosen life. The thought warmed her.

  Brianna allowed silence to fall between them as they traveled for what felt like forever. At nightfall, her muscles screamed at the lack of movement and exhaustion settled over her. A glance at Simon told her he was as tired as she, yet he wasn't about to give in.

  Brianna straightened. If he could take the relentless motion and stiffness in his muscles, so could she. But a quick glance at Abigail confirmed that not everyone in their party was so stubborn.

  Abigail came forward. "My horse is tired. As are yours," she said. "Will we be stopping soon?"

  "There is a village ahead."

  A wave of relief swept across Abigail's weary face. "Where we will stay the night?" she asked hopefully.

  "Nay," Simon responded. "We will stay only long enough to trade the horses and eat something warm; then we shall continue onward."

  "With so little rest?" Abigail asked.

  He shrugged. "I have no desire to give de la Roche time to catch up to us. Do you?"

  "Nay, but how can you fight him if you are exhausted?"

  "You'd be amazed at how hard you can fight with no sleep whatsoever when the need arises."

  "Simon's right," Brianna agreed. They'd both fought against their foe when exhaustion had been heavy upon them. "We had best keep moving until we know we are safe."

  Though a look of disappointment shadowed Abigail's features, she nodded and let her horse fall back into step beside Kaden and his horse.

  As they continued on, Brianna tried to focus her thoughts on the trees, the slight wind that picked up as dusk fell over the land. No matter what she tried, her thoughts turned back to the quiet man beside her. What had happened to him since his return to Scotland? They'd parted suddenly after the battle of Teba. She'd been escorted by four of the surviving foot soldiers back to Rosslyn Castle along with the bodies of her brothers.

  She shuddered at the memory. Suddenly she had to know more of what had become of Simon after that day. "You mentioned going back to Lee Castle after Teba?"

  "For less than a day. That's when I received word from Sir William that it was urgent I meet him at Crosswick Priory. That's when we learned about the threat de la Roche had brought to Scotland's shores."

  "You've battled de la Roche before?"

  "It did not go well. The man escaped." As if saying the words released him from some spell, he finally met her eyes.

  Every question she asked raised only more questions. Brianna met his gaze as suddenly she needed to know all of what he did not say. Was he protecting her or himself? Without thinking, she brought her horse next to his and reached out and touched his hands as they clutched his horse's reins. "I'm sorry for the pain he's added to your life."

  Her nerves flickered as the scent of soap teased her senses and warmth curled down her spine.

  He didn't pull away, but his breathing quickened. "He'll not get the chance to do so again."

  Through her fingers she could feel the tension thrumming through him. "Does anyone else know about de la Roche infiltrating the Templars?"

  "I sent the others who were with me at the treasury ahead of us to the priory. By now, I have hope they've been able to spread the word as far and as wide as possible." He sighed and some of the tension left him. "But that is why it is imperative we get to the priory because none of us knows what the man looks like — how he's disguised himself." His gaze warmed. "That's why we need you. Your dreams can tell us what we do not know."

  If only I could dream. Brianna looked down at where their hands were joined. It had been a year since they'd been this close. She could feel the heat of Simon's body pass into her own, sensed the raw desire that lay just below his surface — the energy that was always there. She'd not forgotten how it felt to touch him. How she felt charged with tension and yet renewed each time.

  She drew a shuddering breath, trying to keep her thoughts centered on the challenges ahead. "What do you expect de la Roche will do with the artifacts he has?"

  A flash of pain darkened his eyes the instant before he pulled his hand from her slackened grasp. "He's obviously injured which explains the Grail. And the sword, no doubt, is to help him overtake the Templars. He almost accomplished that feat last time when he stole the Spear of Destiny, but thanks to Sir William and Lady Siobhan Fraser, that attempt was thwarted."

  "I know this might be unpleasant for you, but what can you tell me about him physically? Does he have any notable features? Things he could not disguise? It might help me."

  "His eyes." Simon's voice became hard. "He has unusually light blue eyes."

  "Merciful heavens," Brianna whispered. "Blue eyes…"

  Simon's gaze snapped to hers. "What is it?"

  "I've seen him before in my dreams." She reached up and toyed with the place where the lock of hair that had gone missing the night before Simon had arrived. "Or perhaps in person."

  Simon's expression darkened. "Explain yourself."

  She lifted the hair that had been left blunted after that night. "I had a dream one night that there was a man in my chamber. He stood over me and clipped a lock of my hair. Why would he do that?"

  Simon stopped his horse then reached out for her bridle, forcing her to do the same. Fear and anger mixed in the depths of his dark eyes. He reached for her hair, running his finger and thumb along the severed ends. "He did not hurt you, did he?"

  "I could have taken care of myself if he had tried anything."

  Simon released her hair. "Nothing good can come of this."

  "What could he possibly do with my hair?"

  "I don't know for certain, but since I've come to you, it has seemed as though the man has known our every move."

  Abigail and Kaden stopped their horses. "It's the old magic," Abigail said with a frown. "I've heard tales from my mother and her mother before her that a lock of hair from one who has visions can allow others to partake in those dreams."

  "Is there any way to sever the bond?" Kaden asked, bringing his horse up next to Brianna.

  "Brother Kenneth might know." Simon glowered, quietly smoldering, but there was worry behind his eyes. "I know you are all tired, but with this new development, we absolutely must continue to the priory."

  All the color drained from Abigail's countenance. "It's that serious?"

  Simon nodded.

  Abigail stiffened. "Then let's go."

  "There is a small village ahead." Kaden paused, then added, "We can refresh the horses and perhaps ourselves there."

  Simon inclined his head. "When we reach the village, you and Abigail will gather food while Kaden and I see to the horses. Agreed?"

  Abigail gripped her
horse's reins. "I'll do whatever it takes to get this man away from us," she said as they started forward once more.

  None of them spoke again until they entered the village. "How long do we have?"

  "Not long. I'll come back for you as soon as Kaden and I refresh the horses."

  Brianna turned toward the small inn to find a large, buxom woman opening the door to welcome them inside. About the same age as Abigail, the woman had graying black hair and kind brown eyes.

  "Good eve," the woman said, smiling brightly. Her smile faltered for a moment as her gaze fixed on Brianna's sword. "Will you be needing a room for the night?"

  "Nay, just a bit of food before my companions and I are on our way again."

  The woman looked past her as Simon and Kaden headed for the stable. "Judging by the tall one's steps, he appears to be in a hurry."

  Brianna nodded.

  "Then we'd best get you taken care of before he returns." The woman stepped aside to allow Brianna and Abigail to enter. "Go on into the common room. We have mincemeat pies and roasted lamb."

  They needed food that would be easy to carry. "We'll take four pies, two skins of ale, and apples if you have them, please?"

  The woman nodded and left the two of them alone in the empty common room. An odd sensation fluttered across the back of Brianna's neck. She scanned the empty chamber. Even for a small town, it was unusual for the inn to be vacant at suppertime.

  Brianna sat in a chair near the hearth to wait. With her gaze on the door, she gripped the hilt of her sword.

  "There's no need for that." A frown pulled down the corners of Abigail's lips as she sat down next to Brianna.

  Brianna opened her mouth to speak, then paused as she heard something odd from outside. If she didn't know better…

  A dagger whizzed past the right side of her head, narrowly missing her.

  Abigail shrieked and dropped to the floor.

  Before Brianna could unsheathe her sword, the door slammed open and a body dressed in a green tunic and black breeches rolled to the floor.

  Four long steps took her across the room where she rested her blade at the man's exposed neck, only to find him already dead.

  A heartbeat later, Simon stepped through the door with his dagger in his hand. "We must leave now."

  "De la Roche's man?" Brianna asked.

  "It has to be. We must keep moving. That is our best defense until we know more."

  Abigail joined them. Her face paled as she gazed at the man slumped in the doorway. "What about the food?"

  Simon bent down and hoisted the dead man over his shoulder. "Our hunger won't matter much if we are dead." He vanished into the darkness of the inn yard to return a moment later without the man.

  Brianna shut the door to the inn, then she and Abigail strode toward the horses Kaden held for them at the center of the yard. Silently, they mounted and under the cover of darkness, left town.

  As they made their way through the dark forest, Brianna couldn't stop the frantic beating of her heart. Who was this de la Roche? He'd sent men to attack them twice now. Would more follow? How did the Frenchman know where the four of them were? Did the man follow them as well?

  Suddenly the burden of what Simon had asked of her settled around her shoulders. How many more men or women would die before she could identify who or what de la Roche had become? Her visions would tell her. "Please," she whispered into the night. "Let me sleep."

  De la Roche frowned as a torch, illuminating the buxom woman he'd paid to set his trap, came toward him, revealing his hiding place on the far side of the inn yard.

  A few more days of drinking from the Grail and his shattered leg would be fully healed. Then he could challenge Lockhart and all the Templars himself. Each day he grew stronger, the damage to his body improved and the pain was less crippling.

  "They left in a hurry," the woman cried. Her face was pale and her expression void of the friendliness with which she'd first greeted him. "I tried to make them stay. I did everything you asked."

  De la Roche pulled his brown robes around him and stepped out of the shadows.

  The woman stopped an arm's length from him, quivering. "They killed your man."

  At her fear, his anger faded and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She was only an innkeeper's wife, yet the effect his presence had over her was everything he'd ever hoped for. It was about time someone saw him the way he saw himself — powerful and indestructible. The woman's fear was palpable. To him it was as heady and as intoxicating as the finest wine in France. "Did you poison their pies and their apples?" he asked, his voice hard, filled with the power that ran through his veins.

  Her face became ashen. "They left without the food."

  Joyeuse swung free of his scabbard, and displacing a mere whisper of air, cut her down.

  She dropped to her knees as her face contorted with pain. "Milord…" The words faded into the night as she fell to the ground at his feet.

  The air still vibrating with the song of death, de la Roche sheathed the mighty weapon. Armies throughout history had fallen before Charlemagne's sword. The Templars would be easy prey once he was fully healed.

  De la Roche lifted the pouch filled with the lock of Brianna Sinclair's hair that he wore suspended by a silken cord about his neck. Just as the old woman who'd helped to harbor him after his fall from the tower of Stonehyve Castle had said, the lock of hair he'd taken from Brianna Sinclair gave him an odd connection to the girl. Through her hair, he had known where to go next to find Lockhart and his band of warriors.

  De la Roche stretched his broken and battered limb, feeling no pain. The Grail would continue to heal him. But the time was past for sending assassins to do what must be done. He must face his enemy himself. Before he met Lockhart face-to-face, he would strike the man in a more subtle way — a way that would hurt him far more than a sword to the chest.

  And de la Roche knew just where to start. Lee Castle was not too far from here. The Lockhart estate would most likely hold many treasures worth destroying. With a satisfied smile, he headed for the innkeeper's kitchen.

  The unprotected sisters of that bastard Lockhart would welcome a basket of beautiful apples. They would accept a gift from one of Lockhart's many associates. He would make certain of it.

  Chapter Eight

  They rode through the night and all the next day, until once again night fell. The sky was bloodred as the last rays of sunlight pierced the horizon. The rays turned the glimpses of the sea peeking out between the trees on their left a blazing red. Instead of taking in the breathtaking beauty, Brianna frowned at the sight. She hated the color red. Since Teba, she'd not been able to separate the color from the sticky red liquid that had covered the battlefield that day.

  Pulling her gaze from the sky, she slowed her pace to bring her horse next to Abigail. They'd been riding for hours. The older woman was as dusty as she from their travels, yet Abigail's oval face and sparkling gray eyes showed no sign of weariness. In fact, with each mile they rode, it seemed as though Brianna's exhaustion increased in proportion to Abigail's excitement.

  "Are you truly that excited to be away from your home?" Brianna asked when Abigail laughed after turning her face into the slight breeze.

  "I've been in that inn for so long. I had forgotten what the world around us looks like — the hills, the trees, the sky. They are all so beautiful!"

  Brianna wished she were enjoying the scenery as much. It had been so long since she'd been free of the confinement of the inn as well. But instead of joy, she felt the incredible pressure of forcing a vision to come to her. What if nothing came? She'd been given a chance to change her future and now what if her gift of sight refused to cooperate?

  "That's a very dark look on your face for such a beautiful sunset," Simon drew his horse up to ride beside her.

  Brianna frowned. Was she the only one who thought the sky appeared wrathful? "How much farther until we reach the priory?"

  "Another day's travel at
least. We will have to beg shelter from the lord in the castle just beyond the trees at the shoreline."

  "Is the lord someone we can trust?" Out of habit, Brianna's hand moved to the hilt of the sword at her hip. She fingered the Celtic design carved into the haft, ready to draw if needed.

  Simon smiled. "With our lives." Simon gave his horse a command. His steed leaped to a gallop through the woods.

  Brianna, Abigail, and Kaden followed his lead as they crossed a wide, fast-flowing stream. Moments later, they emerged from the trees to see a shimmering four-square tower made entirely of red stone, rising from the edge of a bluff with the sea stretching endlessly behind it.

  "Red Castle," Simon said, slowing his horse beside her. "The home of Sir Alan Cathcart and his wife Jessamine."

  "Sir Alan is no longer a Templar?"

  Simon nodded. "He helps the cause in other ways now."

  Silence fell as the four of them progressed up the lane to the drawbridge. Before they reached the gate, the portcullis went up and a tall man with dark hair stepped forward to greet them. Brianna held back. Abigail did the same, allowing the men to talk privately.

  The dark-haired Sir Alan clapped Simon on the shoulder and laughed. Simon's staid demeanor brightened and pleasure lingered for a moment as he smiled, before all emotion vanished once more. Simon turned to Brianna and signaled for her and Abigail to come forward.

  Brianna paused, uncertain of how Sir Alan would greet her. He had been upset when he'd learned of her deception. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Most of the other Templars had been angered by her ruse, but none of them had been mean to her after the fact. They'd mostly just ignored her.

  Sir Alan offered her a welcoming smile. "Brianna, 'tis good to see you again. Come." He waved her forward. "I want you to meet my wife."

  She and Abigail joined the men and headed through the gate, across the bailey, up a flight of steps, and into the castle's great hall. Just past the doorway stood an exotic woman with long black hair and honey-colored skin.

  Her dark eyes were kind as she met Brianna's. "Welcome to Red Castle. Alan has told me so much about you. I feel as if I already know you."