Seducing the Knight

by Gerri Russell

  Alan nodded. Jaffa was beautiful. He’d never been here before—he’d only heard stories from the other men. “Aye,” he replied. “We’ll hire a horse to take us to Jerusalem. That’s where our quest begins.

  “I’ll not lie to you, Jessamine.” Alan turned to her. “I do you no favor by allowing you to come with me. As I said before, it will be dangerous.”

  “I’m prepared.” Determination lit her dark eyes.

  “Then come,” Alan said, continuing toward a stable yard. There he purchased a horse and helped Jessamine onto the animal’s back before he mounted behind her. The cloth saddle was different from what he was used to, but he had to admit the design made it more comfortable to ride two astride, with only a small saddle horn between them.

  Harsh, bright sunlight streamed down on them as they made their way through the streets of loose sand. The horse’s plodding progress sent up a plume of reddish dust into the air. A thin layer of grit settled on their skin, and Alan knew they would have to make one more stop before leaving town.

  When they came to a small wooden building with the symbol of a loom hanging from a hook near the door, Alan reined in his horse. “Stay here,” he said as he dismounted. “I’ll be right back.” It didn’t take long to buy what they needed. Even without the proper language skills, he was able to communicate what he wanted. He returned to the horse and tied the package to the back of the saddle before mounting once more.

  Eager to put some distance between themselves and the town, Alan pushed the horse into a slow run. Once they’d cleared Jaffa, he let the horse fall back into a walk. In the distance he could see nothing but desert, but he knew the ancient city was out there. They headed east.

  The air became still and silent. There were no more voices or soft wailing sounds. No slap of the waves against the shore or vendors hawking their wares. There was only the occasional spiraling of a bird through the open blue sky, the slithering of a snake across the cool morning ground.

  The sun continued its slow, inexorable trek across the sky. Spiky and thorny scrub brush dotted the ground, with an occasional acacia tree breaking the monotony. The landscape should have been dreary when compared to the lush greenery of Scotland. But it wasn’t.

  Against the golden sand beneath their horse’s feet, the bluish green of the scrub brush sparkled like gems set into a rich setting of gold.

  “We’ll be stopping here for a moment.” Alan reined the horse to a stop near an acacia tree. He dismounted first, then helped Jessamine down.

  She didn’t step away. She stayed there in the circle of his arms and reached up. With a silken palm, she cupped his cheek. “You have risked so much for me in the last few days.”

  As she spoke, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from her full, tempting mouth. Her lips were red and inviting. No doubt they would be even softer than her hand…

  The screech of a bird broke into Alan’s wayward thoughts, and he pulled away. He went to the saddle and untied the package he’d purchased from the weaver. Unrolling the fabric, he handed Jessamine a lightweight butter yellow gown of the softest wool, a chemise, and a cream-colored veil. “To replace your torn and soiled garments,” he said. “This garb will be cooler out here in the desert and help us to look like the locals.”

  She nodded before she withdrew from him, heading behind the acacia tree.

  The sweet scent of jasmine still clung to his body where she’d pressed up against him. His gaze followed her to the tree. She struggled to unlace her gown. With a groan, he turned his back on the sight and pulled his mail hauberk over his head, followed by his quilted aketon. Once he was free of the heavy armor, his breath came easier. He would have less protection without the mail, but at least he’d be able to breathe. A soft breeze seemed to caress his flesh.

  He turned slightly, his gaze once again moving to the base of the tree, where a splash of peach-colored silk lay. His gaze moved up. She stood with her back to him, but that didn’t hide her long legs or the rounded buttocks that danced in and out of sight beneath her long black hair as she struggled to pull the new chemise over her head.

  Alan’s body hardened as he took in Jessamine’s dark beauty—her honeyed skin and lean body. Something about her compelled him like no other woman he’d met before. He watched her slip the chemise over her head, watched it slide down her naked flesh. She followed the same movements with her gown. He fisted his hands as her fingers smoothed the fabric in place.

  He wrenched his gaze away from Jessamine and back to the black beast that would be their transportation. The animal nuzzled the ground in an attempt to find food. Alan drew comfort from the familiar sight. Horses he was used to. Women…

  He grabbed the long muslin shirt and long brown robe he had purchased for himself and fastened the robe around his body as he’d seen the other men in the marketplace do. When Jessamine reappeared, he was mounted and waiting. He offered her his hand and drew her up onto the horse, settling her before him once more. The now familiar scent of jasmine caught him in its grasp again. His body instantly tightened and his mind flashed back to the sight of her naked backside. With a silent groan, he set the horse in motion. This would be a long, frustrating quest if he didn’t shift his mind to other things.

  A black buzzard glided effortlessly in a giant, spiraling arc through the cloudless sky overhead, reminding Alan that along with beauty, there was also death in the desert. He had to stay sharp, anticipate danger before it arrived.

  “Now that we’re alone, may I ask what it is we are searching for?” Jessamine’s delicate voice broke into his thoughts. “You said we are heading toward Jerusalem. Why there?”

  “Because that is the first place I must search for the Ark of the Covenant.”

  She faced him, her eyes wide. “The Ark of the Covenant?”

  Alan nodded. “I have two letters from a Templar knight who came here during the Templar’s occupation of the Holy Land in 1291. He and his men claim they found the ark. But all communication with the knights ended abruptly before they could reveal the hiding place.”

  If it were possible, Jessamine’s eyes grew wider. “You know the location of the ark?”

  “I know its probable location.”

  She frowned. “Then you don’t know.”

  “I’ve spent the last two years studying the legends and stories. I’ve read the letters and memorized the clues left for us in the text of the Bible itself.” He caught her gaze and held it. “It’s in one of four places.”

  She nodded, knowing where he was headed. “Jerusalem and the Temple Mount are where we begin this search?”

  “Aye. The Temple of Jerusalem is the most fought-over patch of land in the world. In ancient times the Egyptians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, and Jews all fought and died for control of it.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “More recently, the Arabs and the crusaders shed their blood to take, hold, lose, and retake the sacred mount.”

  “My people and yours,” she said softly.

  “Exactly.”

  “Maybe that’s why you and I are here together. To unite our purposes for the common good.”

  He shrugged. A part of him still wondered if Jessamine had some hidden reason for being here with him. Time would reveal the truth. In the meanwhile, he would be careful.

  The remainder of the journey passed in silence. The sun started its descent as they entered the outskirts of Jerusalem and headed for the Dome of the Rock. A call to prayer hung in the air as they reached the interior of the city. Cobbled streets led through the Jewish Quarter and the Jaffa Gate. Once inside the city it was hard to look anywhere but at the dome of copper that glinted in the sun like a divine beacon.

  Alan brought their horse to a stop. “We need to leave the animal here.” He dismounted, then offered Jessamine a hand down. She slid from the horse into his arms. A wave of heat suffused Alan that had nothing to do with the sun beating down over them. Jessamine must have felt it too, because her cheeks flushed and she s
tepped back. “Is that the Dome of the Rock?” she asked, avoiding his gaze.

  “Aye. Cover your head and face before we approach the Western Wall,” Alan said, pulling his own headdress over his hair. “No one can stand in sight of the Western Wall without a head covering.”

  He led Jessamine through the crowd to the plaza at the foot of the Western Wall. Men stood on the left side of the wall, women on the right, rocking rhythmically and reverently before the ancient, weathered stones. Bowing repeatedly, they dutifully recited their prayers.

  “Come,” Alan said, leading Jessamine away from the holy sight. “We need to walk through what used to be the Royal Portico of Solomon’s Temple to reach the underground tunnels.”

  “Is that where you think the ark can be found?” Jessamine whispered, close to his side.

  He didn’t answer as they approached the south side of the plaza. Two guards flanked the tunnel entrance.

  “How will we get past them?” she asked.

  He turned back to the Western Wall as though searching for something. “Trust me.” With a hand on the small of her back, Alan guided Jessamine slightly past the tunnel entrance. Quite suddenly a warbling cry rent the air, and the two guards moved away from the passage to face the worshippers at the wall. They dropped to their knees in response to the call to prayer.

  “Now.” Alan turned back to the tunnels and they stepped inside unchallenged.

  A series of openings lay before them, what remained of ancient rooms and passageways that would have been at street level at one time. Alan’s thoughts drifted back to the research he’d done. He knew the way to go even though he’d never been here before. The route was clear in his mind.

  He guided Jessamine to the tunnel on the left. Torches lit the passageway through a series of vaulted chambers and into another tunnel. The temperature dropped sharply and the musty smell of mold and ancient, crumbling brickwork hung in the air.

  They hurried through one vaulted chamber after another until finally they entered a much larger and differently designed chamber. The other spaces they’d passed through were plain and clearly functional, whereas the roof of this one was supported by ornamental columns and the walls were adorned with stonework. “This chamber is known as the Hall of the Hasmoneans. It dates back to the time of Herod the Great.”

  Jessamine moved about the chamber, careful to avoid the large, round rocks stacked in the corners. “What are these?” she asked.

  “They are what remain of the missiles that were flung from catapults by the Romans when they stormed Jerusalem after the Jewish Revolt. It was during that time that the Romans looted the temple as they pillaged and sacked the city. Some scholars believe that the Ark of the Covenant was among the spoils taken.”

  Jessamine stopped her exploration and turned to him. “You don’t think the ark was taken then?”

  He shook his head. “I believe that the ark was removed by the priesthood shortly before the Romans descended on the city.”

  She turned startled eyes to him. “Then why are we here?”

  “To make certain my suspicions are correct. Shall we find out?”

  When she nodded, Alan grabbed a torch from the wall sconce and headed deeper into the labyrinth. The passageway seemed to twist and turn randomly.

  “How do you know where we are going?” Jessamine asked.

  “I studied ancient records.” He said nothing more, caught up in the excitement of the search. With each step, the temperature dropped as they made their way through the part of the maze that would have been underground even in Herod’s day.

  They’d arrived at yet another chamber, one deep within the tunnel complex. A bricked-up archway took up the far wall of the room. Alan handed Jessamine the torch, then drew his dagger from his boot. He moved to the archway and, with powerful strokes, hacked at the mortar at the edge of the archway. “Behind this wall is where the Ark of the Covenant was kept in the Holy of Holies.”

  In the torchlight, Jessamine’s face turned ashen. She gazed nervously up the passageway. “What would happen to us if they caught us digging here?”

  Alan shrugged and kept digging away at the ancient barrier. “They would most likely put us to death.”

  Jessamine gasped.

  Alan continued to dig. Small chunks of stone pinged against the dirt floor as he created a hand-sized gap in the mortar.

  “But you really don’t know if the ark is there or not, do you? We could be risking our lives for nothing.”

  “Perhaps, but is it not your own prophecy that tells you we’re not searching in vain?”

  “You believe in the prophecy?”

  “I said no such thing.” He paused suddenly, listening to the shuffle of feet in the passageway beyond. Chance passersby would not be this deep in the temple complex. Had they been discovered? Alan palmed the dagger, ready to strike.

  Jessamine’s gaze went wide and shifted between the doorway and him. “Do you honestly believe the ark isn’t behind that archway?”

  “I do.”

  She turned toward the door. “Then let us be away from here. I have no wish to die in this dark chamber.”

  Alan sheathed his dagger in his boot. If they didn’t leave now, they’d be trapped, and he already knew they would find nothing inside. Halfway up the passageway they came upon an old man with shockingly white hair, garbed in a long white robe.

  For a moment, he blocked the doorway, studying both Alan and Jessamine with an intensity that sent Alan’s pulse thudding. Despite the man’s age, Alan sensed strength in him. Alan clenched his fist, fighting the urge to draw his sword. He wouldn’t fight in this holiest of places unless provoked to defend himself and Jessamine.

  Finally, the man uttered something in Arabic as he moved aside to let them pass. Yet even as they stepped around the old man, Alan could feel his watchful gaze upon them. Alan was grateful to note that the old man didn’t follow.

  Together he and Jessamine moved back through the endless maze of passageways. It seemed like forever before they reached the end of the long narrow tunnel and emerged into the waning evening light, to be met by an overly large man wielding a sword. The man was dressed all in black. Yet the look on his face was darker than his garments. Ten heavily armed men closed in around Alan and Jessamine.

  “The conde,” Jessamine breathed at Alan’s side.

  Chapter Seven

  Jessamine looked past Alan at the man she’d hoped never to see again. Bile rose in her throat at the murderous look in the conde’s black eyes.

  “My bride,” the conde growled. “You’ve put me to a lot of trouble.”

  Jessamine wrapped her arms across her chest to ward off a sudden chill despite the evening heat. “I’m not your bride.”

  “Do you know this man, Jessamine?” Alan’s lips tightened grimly. The men flanking the conde moved in, yet Alan’s hand didn’t go to his sword. Instead, he widened his stance, preparing for a different method of attack.

  “Unfortunately, yes. But it’s not as he says. We’re not married.”

  The conde lurched forward. “The hell you say!”

  Alan’s arm came up to block the conde’s movements, his palm flat against the conde’s chest.

  The conde flinched back. “How dare you?” He drew his sword.

  “Come no closer to Jessamine.” Alan’s voice was like steel.

  Neither man moved.

  Jessamine’s gaze moved from Alan, whose expression was intense but not frightening, to the conde, whose eyes glittered with rage. Tension made the air seem suddenly heavy and still. She’d known the conde would follow her, but she couldn’t go back to Spain with that man, to the life of abuse and servitude he intended for her. She had a prophecy to fulfill. And more than that, she wanted her freedom. Her throat grew thick with unshed tears.

  The conde broke the stillness, signaling his men to advance. “You cannot defeat me alone.”

  The men rushed forward, their hooked swords drawn.

  “Cease!” A
lan’s voice boomed. “This is a place of peace. Sheathe your weapons at once.”

  The Spaniards froze, startled. And Alan took advantage of that momentary pause. He grasped Jessamine’s hand and hauled her toward the Western Wall, where they vanished into the crowd.

  Jessamine looked back over her shoulder. The conde and his men had tried to follow, but the two guards stationed at the tunnel entrance had returned and blocked their way. She saw no more as she and Alan ran back through the Jaffa Gate to the horse that waited there.

  Alan swung her up on the back of their horse. She barely had time to settle before he joined her and spurred their mount through the city streets. They flew across town while people scurried out of their way. By the time they’d reached the edge of Jerusalem, Alan had slowed the horse to a walk. “Stay alert,” he warned as he pulled her farther into his arms, protecting her. “We cannot risk staying in town. We must head for the wilderness.”

  The conde had followed her. Her chest tightened. His presence threatened everything—Alan’s quest for the ark and their fulfillment of the prophecy. If Alan hadn’t been there to protect her…She shuddered.

  But he had been. He was part of the prophecy as well. She frowned. Had the seeress known that? Was Jessamine’s relationship with Alan directed by fate? Her heart sped up. Was the conde part of the puzzle as well, or was his interference something the seeress had not counted on?

  No matter, the conde presented an urgent problem. Somehow, they had to get rid of him before the man ruined everything.

  When they reached the outskirts of town, Alan slowed the horse. “Who was that man, Jessamine? And this time, I want nothing but the truth.”

  Jessamine gazed at Alan. “He’s the Conde Salazar Mendoza, and the reason I ran onto the battlefield. He wants to force me to marry him.”

  A tic started in his jaw. “He followed you to Jerusalem. Why would he do that?”

  She was tempted to turn around, to shield herself from his searching gaze, but she met his eyes. “I want to follow the prophecy, not bind myself to a man who has no right to me.”