They broke through to the other side. He drew a gasping breath, as did Siobhan. “We made it.”
She dragged several sharp breaths into her lungs. “There is a cave.” They kept moving through the water until they stood upon dry land.
“Aye,” he replied, peering into the darkness. He handed her the candle. “Hold this while I try to dry off the flint.” He bent to the dirt beneath his feet and rubbed the stone along the surface, hoping the earth would absorb some of the water. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the darkness until he could make out the outline of Siobhan’s body before him.
Her wet shift clung to her legs. She plucked it away from her skin, causing a pool of water to drip onto the dirt floor. Despite her soaked clothes, she wasn’t cold.
“Bring the candle down here,” he instructed. “The wick will be easier to light against the ground.” He flicked the flint against his sword. Over and over he repeated the process, until finally a spark came forth. He had to create a spark several more times before one caught the wick. A wisp of smoke curled up from the fiber, then a sputtering flame that built in intensity.
Siobhan shielded the delicate flame with her curved fingers, protecting it, nurturing it, until it burned steadily. “Can you see any other urns? If they left them at the entrance, why would they not leave some here?”
“Over there.” William motioned to the left side of the water where a giant urn stood as though waiting to be lit. A moment later, a bright golden light spilled across the inner chamber.
“We found it!” Siobhan gasped.
William uttered a cry of wonder and disbelief. Riches spilled over every surface. He took two halting steps toward the enormous wooden cases inset with jewels from an early period in Egypt’s history. A painted dragon ship of Viking origin. A gilded chariot from Roman times. Statues made from marble, obsidian, limestone and granite from every culture—Babylonian, Egyptian, Greek, Viking, Roman and more. Jewel-encrusted chests brimming with gold bracelets, necklaces, crowns.
“Herod’s crown,” Siobhan breathed, her gaze fixed on the bejeweled chest that held it. “I recognize it from my father’s stories.”
William turned to Siobhan to see her eyes wide with wonder as she looked around. She moved with awestruck deliberation about the chamber. “All these things…I know them from the stories my father used to tell me.” She paused beside four silver trumpets. Her hand reached out, hovering above them, but not touching the precious treasure. “The trumpets used to herald the coming of the Messiah.”
She moved beyond to a gilded throne. “The throne of Constantine.” As though in a trance she continued. “The Athenian Sword of Pericles. The girdle of Hippolyta, the Amazon queen.” She moved about the room naming things as she went, “Ramses’ golden chair. Octavius’s goblet. Excalibur.” She paused, her fingers suspended over the blade. “It does exist.” She drew back her hand and continued about the chamber. “Penelope’s spindle. The Tablets of Thoth.” She paused, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
William rushed to her side, supporting her in the cradle of his arms. “What is it?”
“I never thought…My whole life I’ve heard about these things in the stories my father told me. The details he used to reveal…I always assumed he had a vivid imagination, but in reality he knew so much about these artifacts because he had touched each and every one of them.” A smile lit her face. “My father was Keeper of the Holy Relics. I know that now without a doubt.” Her breathing steadied. She grasped his hand. “Let me show you.” Excitement laced her words as she pulled him toward the north wall, which was lined with shelves from ceiling to floor and filled with scroll upon scroll. “These are some of the rescued scrolls from the library at Alexandria. And here…” She pointed to others. “From the community at Qumran.”
She hurried across the chamber and paused before a large bejeweled table. “The Table of the Divine Presence.” On the table sat a chalice. She stared at the unassuming goblet as though caught in some spell. The chalice appeared to change colors before her eyes. Siobhan reached her fingers out toward it, then pulled them back, as though afraid to touch something so precious. “The Holy Grail.”
Her excitement fueled his own. They were so close. “Help me find the Spear of Destiny.”
“My father used to tell of a Roman spear made of iron. Over the centuries, the tale has changed. It is said that a nail from the crucifixion was hammered into the blade and set off by tiny brass crosses. The blade itself is sheathed in layers of silver wrapped with gold,” Siobhan explained as she progressed about the chamber, searching.
“Here!” William exclaimed when he caught sight of the very object Siobhan had described. The Spear, its blade sheathed in gold, leaned against the chamber wall, toward the back. He made his way to the weapon. It seemed regal yet harmless, set among the other treasures in the room. But its history gave testament that it was anything but ordinary. “They claim the Spear of Destiny has been carried into battle by some of the greatest military minds to date.”
“You found it.” Siobhan stood beside him. “My father is saved.”
William turned to her. “Siobhan, we cannot go to your father straight away. It’ll be nightfall soon. Traveling down the mountain is far too dangerous in the dark.”
Some of the joy left her face. “I understand, but that doesn’t stop my worry. What de la Roche could be doing to my father…”
“De la Roche won’t kill your father until he knows the Spear is within his grasp.”
“I am counting on that,” she said with a half smile. “Are you going to touch the Spear?”
Despite her worries, she stared up at William with a tenderness that touched his soul. This was the moment they had hoped for since joining forces outside her burning home.
And still he hesitated. Touching the weapon meant a return to the world they had set aside on their journey here. He would have to go back to his brothers. The ache of indecision centered in his chest. He was torn between a world he knew and a world he hardly dared to believe he deserved. Could he give up the Templars for this woman?
He sighed, suddenly feeling lost. The last few days with Siobhan had been a gift. He’d seen for the first time in his life that he was loveable, that happiness could exist for him, no matter how short-lived. He was lucky to have had this time with her—whether it evolved into one night of passion or six. He’d been given a wonderful, irreplaceable gift. And he intended to make the most of it in the here and now.
He grinned down at her. “The Spear isn’t going anywhere. There are other things in this chamber that intrigue me more.” William took Siobhan in his arms as strong emotions tightened his chest—an overwhelming sense of joy and rightness.
He’d never felt this way before, not with anyone. Making love with her had been more soul-touching than he dared put into words. It went deeper than that, though. He had known her only a few short days, yet it felt as though he had known her forever, that she was inexplicably a part of himself.
William brushed his face against her hair and smiled, remembering that his first impression of her had been of a plain-faced nobody. With the golden light cast from the urns brightening her face and gilding her hair, she was anything but plain. She was beautiful.
He tightened his arms around her as he thought about the night before, when she’d whispered his name in the darkness, when she lay trembling in his arms.
He breathed in the scent of her hair and felt his body tighten with desire. “We are safe here. Would it disturb you to stay in this chamber tonight, surrounded by the treasure?”
She shook her head. “With you, I feel safe.”
He pulled back, his gaze intent on her face. “Don’t feel too safe. My motives are not entirely pure. I don’t want to have anything to do with the Spear this night.”
Her eyes widened with awareness. “What would you like to—?” Her words broke off as he reached out and cupped her breast with the palm of his hand. He could feel her nipple through the sheer, d
amp fabric of her shift. He rubbed the tender peak until it beaded beneath his hand.
“Does that answer your question?” He released her and gently tugged the bodice of her shift down until her breasts were exposed. He leaned forward and licked each nipple lazily, feeling a hot shiver run through her. He pulled back. “Hmm. Something’s missing.”
She looked at him skeptically. “What could be missing?”
He took her hand and drew her toward one of the ornamented chests. He reached for a long, gold necklace set with rubies and placed it around her neck, allowing the gems to slide into the valley between her breasts.
She drew a sharp breath as the cool metal touched her skin.
“Allow me to warm those,” he said, pressing his lips against her flesh at the side of her neck. He followed the path of the gemstones, moving behind her to kiss the back and then the other side of her neck. From behind, he reached around her and pulled her back against the solid wall of his chest. His hands stroked the necklace as it draped down her chest, until he moved them over both her breasts. He caressed her, stroked her, until she leaned back against him as though her legs could not support her any longer.
He reached into the chest once more, withdrawing a circlet of gold, which he placed on her head. Slowly, he unlaced her hair from its plait. With each unfurling tendril, he felt a longing that gained in intensity until it was almost unbearable. His gaze lingered on the bare flesh of her breasts tinted gold in the firelight. Suddenly he needed to see all of her. He loosened her shift until it fell to her ankles.
“William.” His name trembled on her lips. She turned around and released his braies until they joined her shift on the floor of the cavern. The blood pounded in his veins and quickened in his loins. He felt as though his next breath would shatter what remained of his composure.
Siobhan must have felt it too, because she bent to retrieve her shift, then took his hand and pulled them to an open space among the treasure. She spread her shift on the ground. When she finished, he slipped his hand around to the back of her neck and pulled her toward him.
The air in the cavern was cool and soft, the light a muted gold, and the steady rhythm of the water falling in the background filled the cavern with serenity. They were alone, at peace, and naked to each other. He bent to kiss her, slow and easy, because he wanted to relish each taste of her, to memorize each nuance.
He touched the side of her face as he broke the kiss, then sat upon the shift she’d spread on the ground. “Come to me.”
Siobhan drew a shaky breath as William pulled her onto his lap. He was ready, pulsing, engorged. Her legs felt weak as she gazed at him. He guided her slowly down onto his manhood, letting her feel every ridge, every dimension. A cry of satisfaction broke from her lips as he finally filled her.
They stayed like that for a moment, allowing her to adjust to the sensation. She watched the desire build in his eyes. She could feel the tension in his muscles as she clutched his shoulders.
“Move up and down slowly.”
She did just that, needing to feel the length of him as he retreated, then possessed her once more. The rubies about her neck swayed against her flesh as her slow rhythm grew into a desperate need for abandon.
He leaned forward and took her breast into his mouth, his tongue flicking against her rigid nipple. Fire streaked through her. The rubies warmed against her skin. She could feel the hot column of his manhood filling her, stretching her, as the suction against her breast continued, intensified.
Tension mounted within her. He released her breast to lavish his attention on the other one. Again, he played her to a fever pitch. She began to shake, as tremor after tremor moved through her. “William, please,” she cried out as the tension became unbearable.
He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her down, firmly against him, filing her fully. She gasped and arched her head back in response to the hot, convulsive shudder that tore through her. “I need you.”
“I need you, too, ma chère.” He lifted her, and in one fluid movement laid her down upon her shift. Scarcely had her back touched the ground before he filled her again.
She was lost, consumed by him, as she lifted her body to his. Every sense heightened. She heard the heady rush of the water. Smelled the earth beneath their bodies. Felt the warmth of the rubies as they rolled against her breasts with each frantic stroke.
Their lovemaking was hot and wild, and the release that followed dragged a cry from her lips. William captured her frenzied cry with a kiss. He tightened his hands on her hips and plunged against her, exploding with a moan of pleasure that echoed through the cavern.
When it was over, Siobhan pulled him down against her chest, her breathing ragged as the rubies settled between them. She lay limp, unable to move.
He looked down at her with a smile, his eyes twinkling. “You look like the goddess Venus with your crown of gold, your swollen lips and the passion still lingering in your eyes.”
She brought her hand up to stroke his chest. His heartbeat pulsed beneath her hand. A heady feeling moved through her. She was free to explore him in the firelight—every muscle, every ridge. The satisfaction of her body, mixed with the sense of power she held over him, gave her the courage to ask the question that had been turning through her mind since last night. “What happens next, William? How do we free my father without giving de la Roche the Spear?”
His muscles tensed beneath her hand. “We’ll need troops. Men who will be willing to go up against de la Roche.”
“How long will it take to raise a sufficient army?”
“A few days. I can persuade some of the Highlanders to join us, but those men who have been forced into hiding by de la Roche will be most eager to join the battle.”
Siobhan’s fingers stilled on the ridges of William’s chest. “A few days? My father suffers each day that we wait.”
“Without adequate men we are no help to your father. Attacking now would just cost more lives.” He reached out to comfort her. “Sir John’s knowledge of the Spear will keep him safe. When de la Roche has all he needs, that is when we need to worry about both you and your father.”
Siobhan shivered. In some part of her mind, she had realized when she’d started this journey that she could die. But she’d never considered the possibility of how death would happen. She didn’t want to be tortured or burned alive, as many of the Templars were.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” William said thickly, as though reading her thoughts once again. “I shall not fail you. I have failed too many others.”
She frowned. “Whom?”
“Peter, for one. My brothers in the Scottish Templars who died on our journey to the Holy Land. My own mother and father…” His words faded.
“You couldn’t have stopped a single one of those things, William. You were but a child when your uncle killed your family. And how were you supposed to stop an army of Saracens all by yourself? Perhaps your brothers died defending your life so that you could go on for them. And de la Roche took Peter’s life, not you.”
“I could have prevented it.”
“How?” She sat up beside him. “By hiding him or other Templars away from their enemies? What kind of life is that? People need to be free to live their lives, regardless of the risks.”
He sat up, his body stiff. “This from the woman whose entire life has been nothing more than to support her father’s work. Where is your risk, Siobhan? How free are you?”
Siobhan’s throat tightened at his accusation. He was right, of course, but hearing the words spoken so plainly made it seem as though she’d wasted her life. “I made my sacrifice willingly.”
“Just as I shall accept the responsibility for my failures.”
She reached up and took the gold circlet from her head and set it back atop the bejeweled chest, where she also placed the ruby necklace. She crossed her arms before her, feeling suddenly exposed in the golden light. How had they gone from such tender lovemaking to bitter arg
ument in such a short span of time? She knew the answer even as she finished her thought. Because he’d put into words the realization she’d held in her heart for the last several years. She wanted her life to matter. “My father and I are not your responsibility.”
“Siobhan,” he said, moving his body to retrieve her shift, which had cradled them in their lovemaking only moments before. He shook it out, then offered it to her.
She plucked the damp garment from his fingers and turned her back to him before sliding it over her head. “You take the Spear to wherever you need to take it.” She turned to face him. “I’ll go to de la Roche with the scroll. That should be enough to convince him to release my father. He won’t know you already have the Spear. You can make certain the Templars move the treasure before he finds the hiding place. Of course, he’ll think he has what he wants.” She turned to face William. “I’ll have my father.”
His lips were set in a grim line. “Nay, Siobhan. Not that way.”
“Then where does that leave us?” she asked as emptiness settled inside her.
“Our original plan still makes the most sense. We leave tomorrow morning together. We’ll take the Spear to de la Roche, supported by an army of men. We need to fight him, Siobhan. The man will remain a threat until we drive him back to France.”
She sat down on one of the chests and pressed her fingers against her suddenly throbbing temples. “Will he burn my father at the stake?”
“Given the chance, aye.” He took an impulsive step forward.
She stayed him with her hand. “Don’t come any closer. I lose perspective when you’re nearby.”
“We need to stay united on this,” he said hoarsely.
She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Had she made a terrible mistake by accepting his help? Could she negotiate with de la Roche on her own?
She opened her eyes and stared at the knight before her. Never in her life had she felt more confused, lonely or vulnerable than she did right now.
To Tempt a Knight Page 15
