The Crusader's Heart

by Kate Forrest

  Isobel screamed.

  As soon as the cry escaped her lips, she wished it back again. Sir Alex’s eyes flashed toward her, concern filling his face. For a moment, time was suspended. It was just her and the crusader, and the chaos around them stilled.

  But the chaos flashed back in, time sped up, and in the next moment, Sir Alex crashed to the ground, slamming his head against a rock.

  “No!” Isobel cried out in horror as his body went limp. Her first instinct was to run to him, but then the attacker fixed his gaze on her.

  Cold sweat trickled down her back. Isobel’s heart thundered in her chest as the cloaked man approached. He will kill me. I must flee! The words formed in her mind and yet her feet stayed firmly planted, even as the man stalked her down. The driftwood barrier provided no protection. You must keep the relic safe; you promised David. Finally, she forced her body into motion, and she ran. She dashed into the woods, narrowly avoiding the logs and brush that covered the forest floor. She ran until she could no longer make out the edge of the trees along the shoreline and hid behind the trunk of a pine. Then she listened. The seconds passed by, and yet she heard nothing. Surely, he followed her into the woods. Unless he meant to finish Sir Alex off before he came after her. The thought made bile rise in the back of her throat. Oh, God, what have I done? Was it my fault? If there was one thing David insisted on, it was that his men stay focused in battle. “Being distracted could cost you your life,” he’d warned.

  The warning was a reminder for her now.

  She didn’t know the terrain and hadn’t the physical strength or skills to take on such a warrior. Her limited training from David only went so far. It had saved her from an overweight fiend days before, but a skilled warrior was not something she was prepared for. Her best hope was to stay hidden until daylight.

  She wrapped the cloak tightly around herself and leaned back against the tree, taking a slow deep breath to steady herself. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. As she exhaled, the cold tip of a blade pressed into her neck. Snapping her eyes open, she saw her attacker.

  The wind had died down, and the forest was silent. All she could hear was her breathing and the attacker’s labored inhale and exhale as he recovered from his altercation with Sir Alex. Alex! No, I cannot think of him now. The pressure of the blade increased, taking her back to the present. She leaned as far back against the tree as she could, but the pressure from the blade followed.

  Isobel studied the figure before her. He was imposing, and his fight with Alex proved his skill and strength. In the darkened forest, his features were hidden. He stood in the shadow of another tree, so she could not make out his face in the moonlight. But she did not need to read his face to know his intent—the blade made that clear.

  Instead of collapsing in tears of defeat, she straightened her spine and flexed the muscles in her arms. It’s not over yet.

  “Easy now. No quick movements.” His voice was surprisingly gentle, as if his intent was not sinister after all.

  But why have the pretense? Why the effort to calm me? “What do you want?” she asked, still leaning away to escape the press of the metal against her skin.

  “The relic.” The two simple words hung in the air, but they had more impact than the press of his blade. Isobel had feared for her life before, but now her fear was even greater.

  He knows of the relic! I cannot react to his words. Pretending to be ignorant was her and the relic’s best chance.

  “What are you speaking of?”

  “You know of what I speak. Do not pretend otherwise,” he threatened.

  “ ’Tis not pretending if it’s the truth,” she said. “I am just a bride traveling home with my husband.”

  “Course you are,” he said. “And I’m the King of Scots.”

  Isobel studied the assailant. He relaxed his arm slightly, which moved the blade off her neck. She did not mistake his relaxed stance as an opportunity to escape. She could not outrun him.

  “Time to hand it over, Lady Isobel.”

  “My name is Mary. Mary MacKinnon.” She could have kicked herself for how her voice wavered.

  “I tire of this talk. Give me the relic, and I will be on my way.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot give you what you want.”

  “That is unfortunate.” He hesitated for a moment, as if deciding the next course. “Turn and face the tree.”

  Does he mean to slit my throat? If he’s going to kill me, he can face me. She held her ground and refused to turn.

  “I said turn. Now.” His tone was firm, and she was certain many a person, man or woman, obeyed that voice when it gave commands. Yet, she would not.

  “If you mean to kill me, then do it. But do not expect me to make the task easy for you.”

  He did not respond. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

  Isobel awkwardly stumbled against the tree as he pressed her face into the bark.

  She tightened her hold on her sgian dubh. The small blade was barely longer than her middle finger, but it was sharp. He would kill her, or perhaps he intended to bind her wrists. Before he could do either one, she had to act.

  He temporarily moved his hand and sword away from her body, and she took the opportunity. Isobel spun around and swung with all of her might into him, ramming the small blade into his side. He staggered back, pulling Isobel’s cloak with him.

  “No!” she screamed, as the cloak tore off her shoulders into the assailant’s hands. She reached for the cloth, trying to grab for the pocket that held the relic, but the man bundled it up against his chest.

  “It’s in here, isn’t it?” He held his blade back up, pointing it at Isobel, and tucked the cloak under his arm. He grunted in pain as he pulled the blade from his side, tossing it to the ground.

  Isobel went to reach for it, but the man’s blade pressed against her side.

  “That would be foolish,” he said. She could hear the pain in his voice, but she had no doubt the attacker had plenty of strength left in him. She backed away from her knife.

  “Hidden in the cloak, aye?” he asked, as he felt through the cloak with his free hand. When he found the hidden pocket, he stilled. “I’ll be on my way then.”

  In an instant, he disappeared into the forest. She thought of taking chase after him, but she knew what she had to do. Retrieving her knife from the ground, she turned and ran back to the loch.

  Once she made it into the clearing, she found Sir Alex. He was on his hands and knees, trying to stand.

  “You’re alive!” she shouted. She ran to him and knelt on the rocky beach, reaching her hand out gingerly to touch his head. He hissed in pain, and she quickly moved her hand away.

  “Alex, are you well?” she asked.

  “I seem to be. The damn rock knocked me out cold.” He leaned back on his heels, his hands pressed to his face as he opened and closed his eyes slowly, as if testing them out. He looked at her. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, I’m fine. I wounded him.” She explained how the attacker found her in the woods and she’d stabbed him in the side. Alex’s eyes fixed on the forest behind her.

  “I am sorry you had to do that, Isobel. I did not protect you the way I should have.”

  “Alex, you fought bravely. It is nothing to be ashamed of. He’s a very skilled warrior.”

  Alex’s jaw set in a grim line, and she sensed her words had not soothed him.

  He studied her more closely and frowned, reaching out to touch her arms.

  “Where’s your cloak?”

  “He took it.”

  “Why would he take your cloak?” Alex asked. Then he quickly added, “What was in it, Isobel?”

  “If you are able to run, we must catch up with him. Can you track in the woods at night?”

  He stood all the way up, blinking as he touched the side of his head. Then he fixed his gaze firmly on her. “Isobel, what was in your cloak?”

  “I must get it back!” she cried. “Ca
n’t you see? There isn’t time to explain.”

  She ran for the thicket of trees, but Alex called after her.

  “Isobel, stop!” His voice thundered in her ears, but she wouldn’t stop. She reached the line of the forest but hesitated to go in.

  “You cannae go in there!”

  “But I have to!”

  “Have to? What did you lose?” he yelled, as he jogged over to her.

  “Something of great value,” she choked out.

  Alex reached for her, pulling her to stand in front of him. Isobel felt frantic as she looked up at the crusader. Why is he wasting time?

  “What was in the cloak, Isobel?” he repeated.

  “It is something David entrusted into my care. It is very important, Alex. We must get it back.”

  “I will help you, Isobel, but first I want to know exactly what it is.”

  She took a deep breath and looked Alex in the eye. Keeping it secret didn’t matter, now that the relic was lost. “Hidden in my cloak is the Holy Rood of Scotland.”

  Chapter 10

  It took Alex a moment to understand what she said. The bastard that bested him had stolen the Holy Rood of Scotland, the relic that was claimed to have come from the True Cross of Christ. The most cherished relic in the country, representing Scotland’s importance to Rome, the Pope, and the Almighty himself.

  Queen Margaret’s greatest gift to the Scots was the Holy Rood. But why was Isobel in possession of it?

  “You owe me an explanation, but if what you say is true, then I’ll need to chase him down.”

  “Yes, we must hurry!”

  “Nae, not we. Me.” He started back toward the loch. “I need to get our supplies.”

  Isobel trailed behind him. “You’re a fool if you think you’re going without me.”

  Alex didn’t respond as he approached their camp site. He strapped his weaponry to his body. After sheathing his sword and slinging his pack over his shoulder, he turned to Isobel.

  “There is a cottage not far from here. The family there are friends of the MacKinnons. They’ll keep you safe while I track down the man who’s taken the Rood.”

  “No. I’m going with you,” she said, squaring her shoulders. She looked like the fiercest warrior who ever went into battle, but she could not come.

  “Isobel, I know how much this means to you, but I must do this task without you.” He reached for her and gently squeezed her palm. “In truth, I am stronger, faster, and more skilled in tracking.”

  “I’ve yet to see your tracking skills, Crusader, and I don’t see why you feel you are better suited for the task. I’m the one who wounded him.”

  Alex had heard many things over the years. He’d also taken his fair share of criticism. But he’d never been taken to task like this before, and he had to admit it cut him, even more so than her applause of his bravery in fighting a “very skilled warrior.” A man could only take so much.

  “Had I not feared for your safety, I wouldn’t have fallen, and you wouldn’t have needed to wound him.”

  “Clearly, your strength was giving out,” Isobel said flatly. “I’m not going to flatter you to restore your ego. We don’t have time for this.”

  “My strength was not giving out,” Alex countered. “And I don’t expect anyone to flatter me!”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him, and Alex could no longer think. This argument is not getting us anywhere. He took a deep breath. Be rational, and she’ll be rational.

  “I cannae fight the way I need to if I have to worry for your safety.” He’d been distracted by her presence when he’d fought the attacker. He would not make such a foolish mistake again. “I know you are capable and strong-willed, but you must see I am right in this.”

  Her eyes no longer looked crazed, but he could sense she was on edge, and he felt certain she’d argue to hell and back to go with him.

  “I promise I will bring it back,” he said, looking her straight in the eye.

  She seemed hesitant still, but after a few moments she said, “All right.”

  “And when I return, you will answer my questions.”

  “Agreed. Now you need to hurry, so take me where you must.”

  Alex ushered her and the mare into the forest, taking care as the undergrowth was dense and the forest canopy blocked most of the moonlight. His mind raced over what he’d just learned. The mission was more complicated now, though in truth he hadn’t known what he was getting himself into when he’d received the king’s missive.

  “How did he know about it, Isobel?” he asked, as he navigated them through the woods.

  “At the start, David and I were the only ones who knew I was taking it out of the city. But things got complicated.”

  “There is a good deal to this story, isn’t there?”

  “Yes,” Isobel said, as they raced onward. “I promise I will tell you all I know when you bring the Rood back.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Alex said, as he quickened their pace.

  As they hurried through the forest, Isobel contemplated the alarming fact that the attacker had intentionally been looking for her and the relic. David had sworn her journey would be kept secret, but the bishop must have found out sooner then they imagined.

  “Keep up. We’re nearly there,” Alex called back to her. He ran ahead with the horse at his side.

  Isobel regained her focus and hurried to catch up. Within minutes, they came out into a pasture. Standing alone in the field, save for a few oaks, stood a tiny farmer’s cottage. Though predawn, smoke rose from the chimney and candlelight could be seen in the windows.

  “This is it,” Alex said.

  “If it was so close, why did we not stay here for the night?”

  “Because I did not trust you, and I would not put my friends in needless danger.”

  Until the attack, she had not considered that the Rood put them at risk. Assuming the relic’s whereabouts were still a secret, she only feared for the things anyone traveling would, such as being set upon by thieves.

  “Just answer me this, Isobel. Did David entrust you with the relic?”

  “Of course. It’s destined for safe keeping on Iona. I am but its escort.”

  “ ’Tis as much as I suspected, but I wanted to know for certain.”

  “Surely you do not think I stole it.” How could he think such a thing?

  She must have worn her emotions on her face, for Alex reached for her hand, taking it in his, and whispered, “I know you are no thief, Isobel. I never thought you were, but I wanted to hear the truth from your own lips.”

  She nodded.

  “Come,” he said, his hand still locked in hers. They continued on; the mare trotted beside them.

  Before they reached the cottage, Alex whispered for her to hold back and handed the reins of the mare to her. He walked several paces ahead of them and whistled. He repeated the same notes twice before the door to the cottage opened and a man holding a lantern whistled back.

  “Let’s go,” Alex said. They walked up to the timber house, and he clasped hands with the man at the door.

  Isobel watched intently as the men greeted each other and then a woman appeared in the doorway. She looked to be no more than a few years older than herself, with blonde hair and a broad smile covering her welcoming face. She embraced Alex with a hug and kissed him on the cheek.

  “This is Isobel,” Alex said, offering no more information.

  “Greetings, my lady,” the woman said with a slight bow. “I am Katherine, and this is my husband, Thomas.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

  Katherine moved aside and invited Isobel in. Isobel obliged her and stepped inside the cottage. The kitchen and seating area were close to the hearth, which was centered in the room. The furnishings were plain but well built. Aside from a single painting on the wall near their table, the only decoration was a grouping of small ceramic vases on a shelf. They held a collection of dried wildflowers. The mint-laced scent of hys
sop and the floral notes of lavender wafted from the dried herb collection hanging from the rafters. Another shelf near their straw bed brimmed with small bunches of herbs. At first, she thought they were for cooking, but with such a number and variety, it seemed more likely they would be used in the healing arts. Is she a healer?

  “Sit, please.” Katherine waved her to one of the thatched stools near the fireplace. “I’ll prepare some food and drink.”

  Isobel said her thanks, and Alex remained by the door speaking with Thomas. Seated, Isobel took stock of her hosts. Katherine’s pale blonde hair was tied back in a bun. She brushed a loose strand behind her ear before she lifted the kettle over the fire. Isobel shifted her stool back, so Katherine could work freely before the hearth. In the light of the freshly stoked fire, the woman’s warm hazel eyes sparkled and her fair skin glowed.

  Her husband’s hair was dark brown, and he bore the tanned skin of someone who labored outdoors. The contrast between the two men was evident as they stood talking together. Thomas had some attractive qualities, but she wouldn’t say he was classically handsome. Not like Alex. Thomas was the listener in the conversation with her companion, nodding his head and only speaking a few words here and there. He was reserved, she decided, as Alex approached her.

  “You’ll be safe with Katy and Tom,” he assured her. He set his leather bag on the floor then said his goodbyes to Thomas and Katherine and walked out the door.

  Her hosts looked at her expectantly, and Isobel felt an unbearable pressure in her chest. He didn’t say goodbye. Isobel tried to ignore that gnawing feeling in her heart. It doesn’t matter. We don’t need to say goodbye. But what if he doesn’t return?

  “I forgot to tell him something,” Isobel said to Katherine and Thomas before rushing out the door. She caught up with Alex in the middle of the pasture.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She felt foolish for chasing after him, but she wouldn’t back down now.

  “You’re going into battle,” she began.

  “I’m nae going into battle, Isobel. I’m going after one man.” Alex frowned.