by Scott, B. J.
After inhaling deeply, Franc downed the content of the mug in one gulp, then dragged the back of his hand across his lips, doing his utmost to conceal the grimace. He’d tasted worse, and he’d eaten worse. During the bleakest days of the Templar wars and while in prison, they considered rats a delicacy, and rather than dying of thirst, many men resorted to drinking whatever they could find—regardless of the source.
After placing the empty mug on the table, Fallon stepped away from the bed and spoke to Lazarus, “See that he doesna try to get up. He may be on the mend, but things could change quickly if he does too much too soon. I will go now and brew the tea, then have one of the servants bring it up. Make sure he drinks it all.” She smiled at Franc. “I will leave you to rest and will return later to check on you.” She headed out of the room, sidestepping two fierce-looking men standing in the doorway.
Franc’s heart rate kicked up a notch as the two men approached his bed. He was cautious of strangers, never knowing if they were friend or foe.
“Dinna fash. These are two of my brothers,” Lazarus reassured him.
“We just got back from our trip to Edinburgh and Cailin informed us we had a visitor,” one of the men said.
“This is my friend Francois de Valier. We knew each other when I was in the Holy Land,” Lazarus replied. “Franc, my brother Connor. He is laird of the clan.” He then pointed at the younger man. “This is Bryce, Fallon’s husband.”
Franc offered a hesitant nod, acknowledging the two men. Judging by their stern expressions, they were not thrilled about his presence. He had no idea what Lazarus told them about his past, but if they knew anything about the Templar wars, the aftermath following their disbandment, and the French King’s vendetta, he could not blame them for being wary. “It appears I owe your wife a debt of gratitude,” he said to Bryce, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“There is no arguing that Fallon has a gift, and we have all owed her that same debt at one time or another,” Connor interjected. “But we dinna come here to discuss her talents as a healer.” Connor turned his attention from Franc to Lazarus. “Could I have a word with you in private?” He moved to the far corner of the room, then motioned with a flick of his hand for his older brother to join him.
“I’ll be right back. Mayhap you and Bryce could get acquainted while I speak with Connor.”
Franc nodded in agreement, but even though they’d moved away from the bed, and he tried not to listen, he still heard every word of their conversation.
“Was that anyway to treat a guest?” Lazarus snapped.
“What in God’s teeth were you thinking when you brought him here?” Connor asked. “You know as well as I that his presence can only mean trouble. It is hard enough to keep you safe from any French soldiers who are still convinced you had something to do with the famed Templar treasure. The last thing we need is another man to protect.”
“If my presence is a bother, I can take my wife and bairns and leave,” Lazarus responded in an equally gruff tone. “I wouldna do anything to put the clan in danger. If you recall, it was you who insisted we come here to live.”
“You are our brother, Lazarus, and belong here,” Connor replied. “We will move heaven and earth to keep you safe. But this man is a different story.”
“Na to me. He is as much my brother as you, Bryce, and Alasdair, mayhap more so in some respects,” Lazarus said. “He helped me to get out of the French prison. Na to mention I have known him longer than I have you.”
“Then tell me why he is here and when he is leaving,” Connor said.
Franc gnawed on his lower lip to keep from saying something in response to Connor’s remarks and questions. The last thing he wanted to do was to cause a rift between brothers, and he certainly did not want to put any of his friend’s family in danger. But this conversation was not really meant for him, so he decided to hold his tongue for now.
“I canna tell you the reason for his visit, but you can rest assured, brother, he will be leaving as soon as he can sit a horse. And I will be accompanying him,” Lazarus announced.
“What do you mean when you say you are going with him?”
“Exactly that,” Lazarus said. “When Franc is well enough to leave Fraser Castle, I plan to go with him. But I will be back as soon as he finishes a task he must complete.”
“You canna just up and leave your wife and family,” Connor growled. “And even if Robert the Bruce granted you amnesty in Scotland, that doesna mean the French bastards who were looking for you will pay his decree any mind if they get you alone.”
“Are you saying you willna look after Sheena and the bairns for me when I am gone?”
“You know I will guard your family as if they were my own. But why do you put yourself in danger when there is na a reason to do so?” Connor softened his tone, but the distinct hint of frustration and disapproval remained.
“Now you sound like my wife.” Lazarus glanced over his shoulder at Franc, then returned his gaze to Connor. “I dinna expect any of you to fully understand. You werena with us in the Holy Land, or imprisoned by the French, and I thank the Almighty you were na,” he quickly added. “But you must accept that there are things about me and my past that I refuse to discuss. If you wish me to live at Fraser Castle, then I fear you must learn to trust me to do what I feel is best.”
“As you wish,” Connor said after a lengthy pause. “I will take your word that this is important, and will care for Sheena and the bairns while you are gone. But in return, you must promise me one thing, brother.”
“What might that be?”
“You must promise to be careful, keep your head on a swivel, and return to us safe and sound.” Connor cupped Lazarus’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You were lost to us for many summers and we dinna want to lose you again.” After hauling his brother into a tight embrace, Connor released him and backed away.
“I promise to be careful.” Lazarus returned to Franc’s bedside. “Rest. Once you are well, we will depart.” He turned and left the room with his two brothers in tow.
As Franc watched the men disappear, he blew out a heavy sigh. He’d been through so much and had come a long way to complete his task. Having Lazarus accompany him was a blessing he’d not take lightly, and he vowed to do everything in his power to see him safely returned to his family.
Chapter 7
After spending another twelve days in bed, Franc was tired of looking at the same four walls. He felt strong enough to join the members of Lazarus’s family in the great hall to break his morning fast. He was eager to retrieve the chalice and be on his way, so hoped he’d get no arguments when he announced his intended departure. He’d tried a couple of times to convince Lazarus to tell him where he’d hidden the artifact, and begged him to remain here with his wife and bairns, but his stubborn friend refused to listen.
“What have we here?” Lazarus laughed, then rose when Franc approached the head table. “It appears you have spent enough time lounging in bed and have decided to grace us with your presence.”
“Oui, and Lord willing, you will soon be rid of me,” Franc said.
“I dinna recall giving my permission for him to be up and about," Fallon said to Lazarus, then faced Franc. “It is too soon. You need more time to let your injuries heal. If you were to suffer a fall or enter a battle with broken ribs, the outcome could be deadly.”
Franc approached the dais. “With all due respect, Fallon, I am feeling much stronger. Thanks to your excellent care,” he said. “While tender, I suspect my ribs are bruised and not broken. But even if they are, it is a risk I must take.”
Sheena clutched Lazarus’s forearm. “Speak to him, husband. Tell him it is too soon.”
“You are welcome to stay as long as need be.” Connor stood at Lazarus’s side. “Perhaps you should listen to Fallon and wait a few
more days before you venture off.”
While he permitted him to stay at Fraser Castle during his recovery, Franc suspected that Connor was only being gracious for his brother’s sake, when in fact, he honestly believed the sooner he left, the better. “I appreciate the hospitality extended by Clan Fraser, but the time has come for me to be on my way. There are things I must deal with, and I have tarried long enough.”
Lazarus motioned toward an empty chair at the dais. “Sit and eat. We will discuss this after we have broken our fast.”
Franc took the seat. “My thanks. But there is naught for us to discuss. I will be leaving this day.” He expected more of an argument from Lazarus, and while none came, it didn’t mean his friend wouldn’t have plenty to say after they finished their meal, and they were alone.
“I’m glad you could join us.” Connor’s wife Cailin placed a trencher filled with food in front of him.
“Merci, m’lady.” As Franc ate, he glanced around a hall filled with jovial crofters, then at each member of Lazarus’s family. He smiled when he watched his friend chatting with his lovely wife, their son, and wee daughter. It had been a long time since he’d shared a meal with so many friendly faces, and he chuckled to himself. Over the course of his stay, he’d met each of the Fraser brothers and their wives, their half-sister, Arya, and her husband, along with all their children, but this was the first time he’d seen them all assembled at the same time. He was genuinely happy that Lazarus had found his place in the world and shared his life with a loving, devoted family, but was surprised when he found himself experiencing pangs of jealousy as well.
When he chose to become a Templar, Franc accepted the strict rules that went along with his pledge to the order. But there were times when he lay in his bed at night, his arms empty, and his body aching for a woman’s touch that he questioned his decision.
He’d once made the mistake of falling in love and it ended in disaster. His thoughts immediately shifted to his vow to never forsake his oath to the church again. He gave his head a rough shake. While Giselle was always in his thoughts and forever in his heart, they were never destined to be together, and dreaming about what might have been was useless. Right now, he needed to concentrate on retrieving the chalice and seeing it safely to the rendezvous location.
After breaking his fast, he rose. “Thank you again for all you have done to aid in my recovery. If you will excuse me, I must prepare for my departure,” Franc announced, then headed toward the door.
“Wait,” Lazarus called after Franc, then snaked his arm around Sheena’s waist and tugged her into an embrace. “I know you dinna understand, and wish I could tell you more, but I must go with him.” He kissed her soundly, then looked to Connor. “Take care of them for me. I will be back as soon as I can,” he said, then joined Franc.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Connor asked. “I could go along if you would like.”
“Count me in too,” Bryce added.
“And me.” Alasdair lumbered to his feet and thumped his fist against his chest. “Brothers stick together.”
Lazarus held up his hand. “I appreciate the offer, but that willna be necessary. Franc and I must do this alone. Please do as I ask and take care of Sheena and the bairns.” He looped his arm around Franc’s shoulder. “If I canna talk you out of this, best we be on our way.”
~ ~ ~
“We have been riding for nearly two hours. Are you planning to tell me where we are going?” Franc asked. “I can understand you not disclosing our destination when we were at Fraser Castle, but now there is no one around to overhear, perhaps you would like to tell me where you hid the chalice.”
“We are headed to the monastery where I grew up,” Lazarus replied. “I hid the chalice there when I returned from France. They say the best place to hide something is in plain sight, or in this case, a religious artifact is best concealed in a place of worship.”
“Can you be certain it is still there?”
“Aye. I put it in a secure spot that I discovered when I was a lad, somewhere no one will ever look. I seldom kept things from Brother Simon, but for the safety of the monks and that of my family, I dinna tell him about its existence and where it was hidden.”
“A wise idea.”
“Would you like to stop and rest?” Lazarus reined in his mount. “I noticed you squirming about in your saddle and thought you might be in pain. It is not too late to turn back and wait a bit longer to retrieve the chalice if you are not yet feeling up to this.”
Franc scrubbed his hand across his chin. He was uncomfortable and tired, but he had already lost too much time while in bed. “I am fine,” he lied. “How far is it to the monastery?”
“If we dinna spare the horses and only stop for brief rests, it’s a four day’s hard ride,” Lazarus said. “But I understand if you wish to go slower.”
“No. I can keep up the pace. The sooner I regained possession of the chalice and see it delivered to the rendezvous spot, the better. Let us ride.”
“Keep your eyes open and your senses on alert. You dinna know who might be tailing us,” Lazarus warned. “And be sure and tell me if you need to stop. This isna worth killing yourself over.”
“It is to me.” Franc quickly glanced about their surroundings. “We appear to be alone. Perhaps the swine decided to give up searching for me and returned to France. I hear they tangled with the Frasers once, so maybe the idea of doing so again, scared them off.” He knew that was highly unlikely, but one could hope.
“I have serious doubts about that,” Lazarus said. “While French agents may na have entered Fraser Castle, it doesna mean they dinna follow you there, and are na lying in wait somewhere close. Best we keep moving.” Lazarus dug his heels into the horse’s sides, and the beast lunged forward.
Although Lazarus frequently suggested that they slow the pace or stop for a rest, Franc declined the offers each time. They rode until dusk, then Lazarus reined in his mount, stopping in a copse of trees by a stream. “We’ll halt here to water the horses and let them rest. I willna take no for an answer this time.” He slid from the saddle, then waited for Franc to do the same. “Sheena packed us some dried venison and oatcakes. After we have something to eat, we can each close our eyes for an hour or two, then head out again. We can cover a lot of ground during the night, and chances are if the French are following us, they will make camp and wait until morning to continue their search.”
Franc led his mount to the stream and allowed the animal to drink his fill, then he began gathering some branches and twigs. “The air in Scotland is much colder than it is in France at this time of year. A fire will help.”
“Nay. It is still too light out. You know as well as I that the smoke and flames will only attract the attention of our enemy.” Lazarus opened a canvas sack, took out an oatcake, and handed it to Franc. “Eat. We will take turns napping. An hour each, while the other stands watch, then be on our way.”
“I appreciate you coming with me while I retrieve the goblet,” Franc said. “However, I will understand if you wish to return to Fraser Castle once we have it in our possession.”
Lazarus shook his head. “I plan to see this through until the end.” He pointed to a fallen log. “Sit and eat. After you do, I will take the first watch while you get some sleep.” He sat beside Franc and caught his friend’s gaze. “We never had a lot of time to talk privately when we were at the castle. It has been over three summers since last we saw each other. Have you been on the run the entire time?”
“No. There was a time, albeit brief, where I was able to stay put for a while. I even fell in love.” The words spilled out before he could stop them. Regretting the slip, Franc studied the ground at his feet.
“Where is she? Did you wed?” Lazarus asked.
“It amounted to nothing, and I dinna wish to talk about it,�
�� Franc snapped, then took a bite of his oatcake.
Lazarus studied him for a moment in silence before speaking again. “If you dinna wish to discuss it, I respect your right to privacy. But judging by your reaction and the forlorn look upon your face, there is more to it than you say.”
“I would rather not discuss it,” Franc repeated, then continued to eat in silence.
“Verra well. After our escape from the prison, we were supposed to meet in La Rochelle. I waited there, but you dinna come, and I had no way of knowing for certain if the rumors of your death were true, so I had no choice but to leave,” Lazarus said, changing the topic of discussion. “Had I known you were alive, I would have waited for you.”
“Things do not always go according to plan.” Franc exhaled sharply. “I was on the run for many months before I made my way to La Rochelle. When I finally got there, the Templar fleet had long gone, and I had nowhere to turn.”
“I managed to find passage from La Rochelle to Scotland on a merchant vessel,” Lazarus explained. “I hated leaving without you, but the port was swarming with French soldiers, and there was no place to hide. I feared if I dinna go when I had the chance, the chalice might fall into the wrong hands, and I gave you my word to keep it safe.”
“I am glad you left France when you did. Otherwise, you would likely be dead,” Franc said. “I arrived much later than you, but the port was still overrun with French agents. King Philip IV was dead, but his son was more dogged than his father was to find the treasure and to capture and punish any Templars who remained on French soil.” His heart clenched as a vision of Giselle’s lovely face flashed before his mind’s eye.
“Before I got to the port, I briefly took refuge with a small band of monks. Appalled by the Pope’s deception and the King’s tyranny, they offered me a temporary place to rest,” Franc said. “They suggested that I go to an inn on the edge of town, where the owner, Jean Rideau, who was a Templar sympathizer, would find me a place to hide until safe passage out of France could be arranged.” Once he started talking about his time in la Rochelle, he found it impossible to hold back. “Jean took me into his home. When asked, he told people I was his nephew from Paris. I remained with him and his daughter for several months.” Franc lowered his gaze.