A Knight to Desire

by Gerri Russell

  "Of course they are sent from God." Simon startled at Kaden's unexpected words. "Her dreams have saved many. Why would you believe otherwise?"

  Kaden's gaze shifted to the tabletop. "I'm trying to be cautious where de la Roche is concerned."

  "That is wise, Kaden. But we do not have to suspect Brianna of falsehoods."

  Kaden lifted his gaze to Simon's once more. "She played us false once before."

  "That was in the past." Simon stood and strode about the chamber, coming to a stop near the smaller hearth at the back of the room. He stared into the red-gold flames. They already had plenty to worry about with de la Roche on the loose. He didn't need his men questioning Brianna's dreams or her intentions. They needed to trust her as he did.

  What they needed was action. Brianna's actions would demonstrate to the men that she was trustworthy. He glanced back at the door. It remained empty. He released a sigh of frustration. Why was he delaying their departure? He could march up into the tower room and demand Brianna and Abigail join them. Yet he did not. Was he ready to see her again after last night?

  He should never have kissed her, even if it was out of spite. He was angry she'd beaten him. He'd been bested by others before. But never by a woman … and not by a woman who stirred him in ways that she should not. She reminded him of all he'd set aside when he'd taken his Templar vows.

  That had been many wars and a long time ago. Yet her one kiss had unleashed an urgent desire for more. The image of Brianna's face suddenly alight with desire formed in his mind. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have a woman in his arms. He clenched his fists.

  The woman was desirable. She was definitely skilled in the art of battle. But she was not for him. He had to put the memories of last night out of his mind. Such a distraction could get him and every one of the men in his care killed if he wasn't focused and ready for whatever de la Roche had in store for them next.

  Simon straightened and turned away from the fire just as Abigail and Brianna entered the room, Alan and Jessamine following in their wake. Just the sight of Brianna's wild, untamed hair brought warmth to his chest. He forced his response deep inside himself and hastened to greet the foursome.

  Brianna stopped her progress and her gaze dropped to the rush-covered floor. Why would she not meet his eyes? Was it because of last night or—

  "I did not dream," she said solemnly. "I still could not find sleep even after…" Her words faded away as she finally brought her gaze to his. He saw unbanked fires in her eyes and knew he was not the only one affected by their kiss last night. But it was a kiss that could never be repeated.

  Jessamine placed her hand on Brianna's arm, breaking the moment. "You need to stop chasing the dreams. Relax and let the dreams find you instead."

  Simon swallowed his disappointment. It would not help Brianna to see how desperate he was for her to dream. He realized the kind of pressure he'd placed on her to perform. "Dreams or not, we can delay no longer." Simon motioned for all the men to join them. "We'd best be on our way. We thank you for your hospitality, Lady Jessamine, Sir Alan, and for the additional men."

  Sir Alan clapped Simon on the shoulder. "Until we meet again, Brother."

  "Until we meet again." Simon clasped his friend's arm in the Templar salute.

  "Your horses are saddled and ready in the bailey and loaded with food and skins to see you through the rest of your journey," Sir Alan said as he gathered his pregnant wife against his chest, facing their guests.

  Simon nodded and headed from the hall with Brianna at his side. In the bailey, they mounted their horses and silently proceeded through the gate and over the drawbridge, heading for Crosswick Priory.

  Perhaps at the monastery Brianna would dream and reveal the direction of their quest.

  Brianna watched Simon as he led them through the open countryside. They were vulnerable here in the open lands. All of them had to be alert to the dangers. Even so, Brianna couldn't help but steal a glance at Simon. He kept his face at an angle to her so that she could not read his emotions, but his commanding presence and power were undeniable. This was a man who had led a hard, harsh life. And yet, there was a gentle side to him as well. He'd shown her that last night when he'd kissed her. Not at first. At first his kiss had been rough, punishing, but then his lips had gentled and he had allowed that part of himself to be seen.

  It was that gentler Simon whom she'd missed over the past year. She craved his warmth instead of the remoteness he showed her now. "How far is the priory?" Brianna asked, knowing it mattered not how far away their destination was. They would travel hard until they reached it.

  "If we move quickly, Crosswick Priory is but a day's journey to the southeast. We should make it shortly before nightfall."

  As though not wanting to converse any longer, Simon took the lead, while Brianna and Abigail rode side by side, with Kaden and the other warriors at the rear in case de la Roche should find them.

  Just as Simon had predicted, it was a hard day of riding, with them stopping only to rest the horses. Night was fully upon them when the walls of the priory came into view. The light of the full moon shone brightly against the stark gray stone. They dismounted and while she and Simon settled the horses, Abigail and Kaden untied the charred remains of the Templar they'd brought with them.

  "He deserves a proper burial among his kin," Kaden said as he gripped the cloak-covered body in his arms. Together, they headed to the small alms door at the back of the priory.

  Simon rapped on the door. Two knocks then a pause. Then three more knocks. After a brief moment, the door was flung open to reveal a tall man with a hood obscuring his face. The man took a step closer and drew back his hood, settling it around his shoulders. His lips turned up in a smile. "Stinger?" a gruff voice asked. "Is that you, Brother?"

  "It is I," Simon replied. "As well as Viper and—"

  "Mistress Brianna, or, as you are known to the Templars, Shadow Walker." The tall man she remembered as Reaper dropped his gaze to her, appraising her from head to foot, then bowed his head. When he straightened, curiosity blossomed in his dark eyes. "Good to see you in Templar company again."

  "It's glad I am to be here," Brianna greeted the abbot with a smile. Once her identity as a female had been discovered among her Templar brothers, Brother Kenneth had been the first to forgive her. He had taken her under his wing, like a protective older brother.

  Simon stepped forward. "Brother Kenneth, may I introduce Mistress Abigail MacInnes."

  The man's smile increased. "A pleasure, milady."

  A heartbeat later the abbot's smile slipped when his gaze settled on the body in Kaden's arms. "Who?" Brother Kenneth asked.

  "We don't know, but we wanted to bring him back here where he belongs," Kaden said, moving past the abbot and into the hallway. "I will join you all in the refectory after I see our brother settled in the chapel."

  The abbot nodded. He motioned for the others to follow him to the refectory where the evening meal was still being served, seating them at one of the long wooden tables. Many of the other monks in the chamber stared at Brianna. She kept her head high, refusing to let them see they had any sort of effect on her. It wasn't because she was a woman in a place where very few tread. It was because they remembered her and her deception.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when moments later bowls of steaming mutton stew and a platter filled with chunks of dark bread and golden cheese were placed before them. Brother Kenneth said a prayer before he and the other men started eating. Sitting across from Simon at the table, Brianna could only stare into her wooden bowl as she allowed the familiarity of being back among the Templars to settle over her.

  "Did Brother Bernard and the others make it back here?" Simon asked.

  "Aye," the abbot replied. "Bernard lives. The healing baths helped with his deep wounds, but he remains weak."

  "Praise the saints," Simon breathed.

  The abbot's features darkened. "The other knights told us about de la Roche. He
took the Grail and the sword of Charlemagne?"

  "He's murdered so many of us. We must stop him." Kaden said, sliding onto the bench beside Simon.

  "What about the rest of the treasure, is it safe?" the abbot asked.

  "Simon managed to seal off the treasure before that monster could send his men back for more." Kaden sat forward, concern etched into his youthful face.

  The abbot nodded and his gaze met Brianna's. "Is that why you brought Brianna back into this battle?"

  "Aye," Simon replied. "Her visions must lead us to de la Roche before…" His words died off.

  "I understand. But perhaps it is best to pray instead of demand Brianna's visions reveal the things we need," Brother Kenneth said with a lift of his brow.

  His voice was gentle, understanding, and brought a lump of emotion to Brianna's throat. "I've been trying to dream, but sleep suddenly seems to elude me at every turn."

  The abbot stood and slipped away from the bench on which he sat. "Perhaps I might be able to help." He moved to the far side of the refectory and returned with a mortar containing several dried herbs, and pestle. He ground the herbs together and reached for her untouched mug of ale. He sprinkled the powder from the mortar into the golden liquid. "My sleeping draught should aid you in finding sleep." He held the mug out to her.

  "What are the herbs?" Brianna asked as she stared down into the dark liquid.

  "Dried valerian, lavender, passion flower, chamomile flowers, and lettuce."

  Hesitantly, Brianna brought the mug to her lips and took a sip of the bitter liquid. She shuddered.

  "It tastes terrible, but it works, believe me." He laughed.

  She nodded and downed the rest of the mug in a gulp. "Then let's hope it works soon." She set the mug on the table and drew a long, deep breath, fighting the bitter taste that lingered on her tongue.

  "You should not be alone this night, however, in case the draught brings you nightmares instead of the dreams you seek."

  "I'll happily sit with Brianna," Abigail said, setting her spoon alongside her bowl as she finished her portion of stew. "I've dealt with her nightmares—"

  "Nay," Simon interrupted before he realized what he was saying. "Abigail you need your rest. We've all seen how weary this travel makes you. I can get by with much less sleep. I'll stay with her here in the refectory. We can build a pallet for her next to the fire. I will stand guard in a chair."

  Abigail frowned. "That would not be proper."

  "Nor is it necessary," Brianna interjected. How would she ever be able to sleep with Simon watching over her? Just the memory of him had kept her up last night, despite her exhaustion. His nearness would not serve her well at all.

  Simon stood, facing the older woman. "We are in a monastery, Abigail. Her virtue is safe among my brothers and me." He turned to Brianna. "Are you frightened to be alone with me?"

  Brianna narrowed her gaze as she straightened her spine. He knew her so well. He knew she could not argue the point now that he'd thrown out that challenge. She would not allow him to best her with a sword or with anything else. "If you must stand guard, then so be it."

  The corner of his mouth quirked as though to smile, but he held himself in check as the others finished their supper then cleared from the room. Abigail was the last to leave.

  "Are you certain you'll be all right … alone with him?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

  "I'll be well." Brianna smiled and drew her sword from its scabbard. "As long as I have this nearby, there is no need to worry."

  Abigail's eyes widened and shifted to where Simon now stood near the hearth. "Perhaps I was worried about the wrong person."

  Brianna laughed and returned her weapon to its sheath. "I promise not to harm him. All will be well." She took Abigail's arm and led her to the doorway where Brother Kenneth waited. "And I shall see you in the morning."

  Abigail's soft gray eyes searched her face for a moment before she sighed. "May you rest well, and dream well, my child."

  Once Abigail was gone, Brianna turned back into the chamber. No longer needing to pretend for Abigail's sake, Brianna's smile faltered and fatigue consumed her as the abbot's draught took hold. She wobbled on her feet, suddenly unsteady, and reached out.

  Simon was there, holding her arm. "Steady, my warrior."

  Brianna shook her head, trying to clear her senses. Had Simon said what she'd thought he'd said? The tables in the room suddenly swam before her eyes. Nay, 'twas only her mind playing tricks on her. "I'm suddenly quite tired," she said.

  "Your pallet awaits you." Simon guided her across the chamber toward the fire. There, he turned her toward him. His hands moved to her waist.

  She gasped as the warmth of his touch permeated her spiraling sense. She closed her eyes and leaned slightly forward. In an instant, his warmth was gone, along with her scabbard and sword.

  She snapped her eyes open and swayed where she stood. "How dare you remove my sword?"

  He was close enough that she could make out a rather fuzzy frown on his face. "Your weapon will only be in the way once you lie down." He took her in his arms once more and guided her down as though she were a rag doll, down to a soft woolen blanket atop a pallet of sweet-smelling heather. "Besides, you will harm yourself if you try to draw that weapon in your current state."

  She allowed him to position her atop the bedding. He was right, but she still did not like the fact he'd made the decision for her. "Place the weapon by my side."

  "I'll be at your side. You've no need of a weapon."

  She lifted to her elbows and tried to focus on Simon's face. "With you at my side, I'll need every weapon available." She frowned as he knelt down beside her, bringing his face closer.

  "Even under the effects of a draught, you are as prickly as ever."

  "I am not prickly." A frown came to her lips as she closed her eyes. She had to stop looking at him and remembering how it felt when those lips were pressed against her own. Her heart was beating too fast. A hot flush crept up her cheeks. Nausea pinched her stomach and a slow, thudding started at the back of her skull. She wrenched her eyes open and stared at Simon as she struggled to sit up.

  He stood away from her, near the fire. "Simon, I don't feel—" The word feel became thick and stuck in her throat.

  She swallowed. At least she tried to swallow. Her throat was dry and her tongue felt thick. She tried again. "I don't feel well." Her hands started to shake. She stared at them with rising panic. A spark in the fire popped, sounding like an explosion. She clamped her shaking hands over her ears. What was wrong with her?

  Simon turned toward her. He took a step that seemed slow and exaggerated, then another. Brianna's heart thundered in her chest as she watched Simon become a shifting, dancing kaleidoscope of shadows and movements that blurred together. Panic swelled inside her, swamped her, pulled her into a black whirling eddy.

  Far away a voice called. "Brianna…" The word echoed through the long, dark tunnel of her mind. She reached out with flaying arms and captured something solid. She clung to it.

  "Steady now … my warrior."

  She concentrated on the words, clinging to them like a lifeline as the world around her continued to spin out of control. Simon.

  He took her in his arms. "Must be … the herbs." His voice sound far away and strained.

  She clung to him as a huge beast charged forward, bearing a dark-skinned Moor. The thunder of hoofbeats filled the space around her. A hooked sword flashed high in the air. A scream lodged in her throat as she reached for her sword. Where was her sword? Simon had taken it away. The sword came down and the scream forced itself past her lips, echoing all around her, resounding in her ears like thunder.

  "It's all right, Brianna. You're hallucinating." Simon's words filtered through her thick mind.

  Aye. This wasn't real. She grasped the word as she would her weapon. "You're not real!" She challenged the Moor.

  He vanished, leaving in his stead an empty chair.

 
; She turned her face into Simon's chest. She didn't know how long she remained there with him, wrapped in his arms, her face buried in the soft linen of his shirt. But it seemed like forever.

  Gradually, her headache eased and silence descended over the chamber. Her heartbeat slowed and her tongue moved with ease as she swallowed against the dryness that had settled in her throat. Her shaking eased.

  "Brianna?"

  She looked up into Simon's comforting gaze and felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Her body relaxed as true exhaustion took hold. "Hold me, Simon. Please, just hold me as I sleep."

  He framed her face with his hands, tilting her gaze toward him. "I will be right here, Brianna."

  He was so close. Close enough to kiss. She shifted forward, bringing her lips in contact with his. He kissed her quickly, then pulled back. "Kiss me, Simon, like you did last night."

  His lips brushed hers, hesitating. "I promised to keep you safe."

  "I am safe with you."

  His arms closed around her and a groan escaped him. His lips caressed hers in a hundred kisses that robbed her of breath and sent shivers tingling through her.

  She inhaled sharply as she pulled back to stare into his face. His features were taut with strain. She blinked up into his eyes and saw something she hadn't seen there in years. Hope.

  Her tongue came out to moisten her lips. She tried to speak. She had to tell him she felt it, too — a surge of something light and wonderful and pure. Her breath came out in a rush as her body felt suddenly heavy and weak. "So … tired," she whispered.

  She heard a low sound as Simon laid her back on the pallet and shifted beside her, watching her face. "You should sleep and dream. The abbot's potion seems to have passed."

  "Stay … with … me."

  "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered near her ear.

  Brianna tried to focus on Simon's face, but her vision blurred; her thoughts scattered as her eyes drifted closed.

  Had it only been a dream? Had Simon's lips upon her own been something she'd only imagined, as much a fantasy as her hallucinations had been?