And there was something else, something even more fragile building between them: trust. She realized with a sense of awe that she trusted him and received trust in return. He was the first person aside from Abigail with whom she could simply be herself — the warrior and the woman.
Sunlight kissed her skin as she and Simon, Kaden, and Jacob headed for the opening of the cave still some distance away over the slick basalt rock. The air smelled of salt and a breeze lifted the ends of her hair, tossing them about her face. She pushed the unbound strands back out of her eyes with her injured hand. At least her hand was good for something. The thought brought a smile to her lips.
"What are you smiling about?" Simon asked as they headed toward the jet black opening in the side of the rock.
"No matter what we find inside that cave, it feels good to be out of doors … with you."
He reached for her left hand. Together they clamored over the volcanic rock toward the opening. Darkness greeted them. Brianna squeezed Simon's hand, trying to quell the infinitesimal shaking in her hand. But whether she was scared of what they'd find or excited at the prospect of rescue, she couldn't honestly say.
He let go of her and rustled around in the knapsack he wore over his shoulder. He produced a flintstone and the makings for a torch which he quickly wound together. He drew a dagger from his boot and struck the steel to the stone. On the third strike, a spark settled on the fibers he'd wound around the wood. He picked up the torch and encouraged the embers with his breath. Soon flames glowed brightly to send golden fingers of light threading into the darkness. The cave funneled into a long strip of black ahead of them.
High overhead, seagulls squawked as they dipped and weaved, chasing the ever present wind. "Ready?" Simon asked.
Her heart sped up as excitement wedded with fear. "I'm ready."
"I'll go first. Stay right behind me."
Her breath quickened as the four of them felt their way along the broken pillars that created a stair-stepped walkway. The entire island was made from hexagonal pillars thrust up from the depth of the sea in what she could only assume was some sort of volcanic eruption centuries ago. The ocean cooled the rocks quickly, leaving fingers of stone stretching for the sky.
As they moved along the naturally-formed path, the temperature dropped and the hiss of the waves mingled with the harsh tenor of their own breathing, echoing against the cathedral-like ceiling overhead.
The torch created a golden kaleidoscope of twisting, dancing light on the cavern walls as they made their way deeper into the cave. Cold dampness seeped into her bones and plastered her dress to her legs as they inched forward along the stair-stepped path.
Simon stopped.
"What is it?" Brianna stopped and peered around him. Light from the torch splashed across the walkway and landed on a human skeleton a few feet away. She gasped.
"This skeleton has been here a while." Simon shuffled forward. "We have to walk past it. They are just bones. Don't be afraid."
They are just bones. Brianna kept the words in mind as she inched forward along the path. The pale, gray bones reclined against the damp stone wall, the skull angled so that it appeared to watch bypassers with its eyeless sockets, almost daring them to pass deeper into the cave.
A shiver moved along her spine.
As though sensing her emotions, Simon took her uninjured hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We'll find him."
"I hear something," Kaden said from behind them.
The four of them stopped. Silence fell over the cave except for the deep rushing of the waves as they swelled and receded against the rock.
A groan. "Help … me." The words were faint.
"The sound came from just ahead, off to the right beyond the curve in the rock wall." Kaden's voice bounced off the walls and rang back at her as did the sound of steel against leather as the men drew their swords.
Simon turned and handed Brianna the torch. "Be prepared for anything."
Brianna's breath jammed in her throat as they hurried around the bend. Light from the torch slipped across the body of a man chained by his hands and feet to the slick stone wall. He was suspended from the rock, his feet dangling down. His clothes were in tatters and hung from his emaciated frame. Blood-brown streaks marred his face, legs, and arms, but did not hide the glittering moisture that welled in his eyes.
"Jacob and Brianna, stand guard while Kaden and I get him down," Simon said.
Brianna didn't move. She couldn't. All she could do was stare at the man she'd seen in her vision. He was alive, at least, even though he'd been abused and tortured more intensely than even she had been. Her gaze moved to his hands. They were whole. Her breath rushed from her lungs in a painful sigh of relief. At least he had been spared from that ordeal.
She turned around, finally able to do as Simon had asked. She watched the entrance of the cave for movement as the sound of Simon and Kaden's daggers ground against the rock, no doubt loosening the chains that held the man in place.
Shuffling sounds came from behind her. "He lost consciousness." Kaden's voice held a note of concern.
"He's free." Simon's voice assured her moments later. "We can assess the damage later. For now, let's get him out of here."
Jacob took the lead, his sword at the ready, while Kaden carried the limp man in his arms. Simon offered Brianna his hand. She took it, reveling in the warmth as together they began the journey back along the pathway to the boat and out of the bowels of Fingal's Cave.
Chapter Sixteen
There were rainclouds on the horizon. Pierre de la Roche frowned as he brought his horse to a halt at the rise of the hill overlooking a valley below. Scottish rains always put him in a bad mood. Mostly because the rain washed away all signs of the brown-cloaked man he'd been following since he'd discovered Brianna gone from his lair.
How dare they come and steal her away from him just when he was starting to enjoy stretching out her pain, watching her agony as he slowly destroyed her fingers? There were so many other bones he could have mangled. And they'd robbed him of the pleasure.
But who had come for her? Lockhart was on his way to Pennyghael Abbey alone. He'd seen the evidence of that with his own eyes. Perhaps it was his friend, the unshakable Kaden Buchanan. De la Roche frowned. It mattered not; without Brianna to distract him, he'd had no choice but to follow Lockhart as the Templar made his way to the abbey as instructed. He'd force the Templar into the ambush that awaited him near the woodlands a few miles from Pennyghael Abbey. The familiar excitement that always preceded a kill swept through him, warming him against the chill winds that had picked up intensity in the past few moments.
He'd toyed with Lockhart long enough. It was time to gather his full army and demolish the Brotherhood of the Scottish Templars. He'd kill them all, then take their treasure and forge a new empire of his own. He looked expectantly at the sky overhead. Rain was coming, and soon. He and his men would try to make it to the next inn or farmhouse. Even a crofter's cottage would suffice before the rain came.
Then he would wait out the storm and sit before a roaring fire and dream of the pain and the carnage that would come at the end of his notorious sword, Joyeuse. The forced reprieve would give him time to savor and anticipate the killing to come.
It would take more than the Grail's healing powers to set the man they'd found in Fingal's Cave back to rights. They'd learned the man was a Templar named Roinald Brown. He'd confirmed Brianna's dream, telling them he'd been captured by de la Roche and hidden in the cave. He'd suffered torture far more severe than what Brianna had endured.
The man was half-starved and brutally beaten. What he needed was the healing that could come only in the healing waters found at Crosswick Abbey and the ministrations the brothers there could provide.
"We need to separate," Simon said to Kaden and Jacob as they set sail for the isle of Mull. They laid Roinald on a pallet that rested in the protected area below the forecastle.
"If we separate any further, we
will all be at risk." Kaden frowned.
"I don't see any other way. Roinald is too weak to go into battle. Having him among us will only slow our progress. It would be safer for all of us to send him back to Crosswick."
"I will take him," Jacob said, his gaze straying to the man on the pallet.
Brianna knelt by Roinald's side. She brushed the sweat-dampened hair from the injured Templar's head with a cool cloth. Fever had set in. "You will be well, Roinald. The Grail will help you heal as it did me." Her voice held a note of calm reassurance.
Simon only wished he felt that same way about the man's chance of survival. When they'd found Brianna, she was physically battered, but she'd retained much of her health and strength. Roinald's emaciated body might not be strong enough to recover.
Simon moved to Brianna's side and laid a hand on her shoulder. "You should rest, too. You are still not fully healed."
Brianna shook her head. "I am much improved. And I agree. It would be best for us to separate. Although, I think we should send Kaden along with Jacob and Roinald. It will take one of them just to hold him upright. The other will have to offer protection in case…" She let her words trail off.
Kaden's frown increased. "She is right. I will gladly go, but that will leave you and Brianna in a similar situation. She's not ready to fight yet."
Brianna stood and faced Kaden. Before he could react, she whipped her sword from her scabbard with her left hand and brought the tip of the blade to rest beneath his chin. "What was that you were saying?" she challenged.
Admiration shone in his eyes. "I take that back. The two of you will do excellently on your own."
Simon did not share Kaden's amusement. He took the hilt from Brianna's hand and returned her sword to her scabbard. "Brianna is quick with a sword, right or left handed, but drawing a sword is not fighting a battle." He turned to Brianna. "I mean that with no disrespect."
"No offense taken," she said. "You are correct. I am healing, but my full strength has not returned."
He nodded. "If we are to defeat de la Roche, we still need more men. Kaden and Jacob, after you leave Roinald at Crosswick Abbey, you will ride for the nearest clans. Brianna and I will do the same once we reach shore. If we are to crush de la Roche, we must have the help of the Highlanders. And we have two days only to gather our forces and meet on the rise above Pennyghael Abbey."
"Agreed," Kaden and Jacob said in unison.
Simon looked toward the sky. Blue-black clouds rolled across the western horizon and the afternoon wind carried with it the bite of cool moisture. He drew a deep breath, letting the pungent dampness flow through him. "A storm is closing in. Once we reach shore, we will go our separate ways and make as much progress as we can before the rain and sunset force us to stop."
"Until then, Brianna, can I interest you in a little left-handed sword play? We must build up your strength for the coming battle."
"On the deck of the ship?"
"Does the idea scare you?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Is that a dare, Simon Lockhart?"
He allowed the hint of a smile to tug at his lips. "Think of it however you like. You say you are hale and hearty. Prove it."
In the blink of an eye, she turned to Kaden. "May I borrow this again?"
"Borrow away." He handed her his sword then stepped back toward Jacob.
She advanced on Simon with a laugh. "I'll prove I'm well, you over-eager barbarian."
He drew his sword and a sense of rightness came over him at the sight of Brianna acting much as she always had. De la Roche might have damaged her fingers, but he had not damaged her spirit.
"Come, Jacob, let's be away from here before the Grail has even more healing to do." Kaden scooted the two of them farther back until they were against the rails.
Brianna tucked her injured hand behind her back as she balanced Kaden's sword in her left hand. The animation left her face and she flicked her wrist slightly as though testing her own strength.
"Does that feel comfortable?" Simon asked, studying her closely.
She lunged forward with another laugh. "Never let your guard down. Isn't that the first thing you ever taught me?"
He brought his sword up to meet her stroke. "Nicely done." He pressed his attack, holding himself back as he advanced.
She met each downward thrust and countered with movements as precise as she ever had. Yet a frown marred her face.
"What is it? Are you in pain?" he asked though he did not drop his guard.
"You are holding back. Come, Simon. De la Roche and his men will show no such mercy. Or is it that you don't have the stomach to fight me as you have so many times before?"
He knew she was needling him. And it worked.
Simon struck Brianna's sword, hard. She took the blow with an upward thrust and for a moment, she staggered beneath the onslaught. Then something flashed in her green eyes and she pressed her own attack, forcing him back along the long, narrow deck.
There was no holding back as they perfectly parried each other's movements. Back and forth they went along the deck, until time seemed to stand still and there was only the two of them: breath for breath, stroke for stroke.
The wind ruffled through Brianna's hair, sending it into wild disarray around her face. She reached up with her injured hand and tucked the errant strands behind her ears. No pain lingered in her gaze, only warmth and excitement and hunger. Simon's heart slowed to a snail's pace and then sped up.
He lowered his sword and felt every breath he took like a whisper of promise against his lips. Cool fingers licked along his spine and made him shiver. He had a strange feeling that he was close to something magical, something he'd waited for his entire life…
Her features softened as desire lit her eyes. She lowered her sword. "Is this battle at an end?"
Transfixed by the slow, sensual movements of her lips, it was a moment before he realized she was speaking to him. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and took the three steps that separated them. "We are done. You've proven you are a powerful warrior left- or right-handed."
She smiled.
"And a beautiful woman." He leaned toward her. To his delight, she swayed toward him. Her eyelids fluttered closed.
He reached for her left hand, his touch a caress.
A soft whisper of breath escaped her.
He swallowed hard and forced his thoughts in a different direction. He couldn't kiss her here, not in front of the others, no matter how desperate he was to feel the softness of her lips against his own. He lifted Kaden's sword from her fingers.
Her eyes snapped open.
"Land, just ahead," he warned, stepping back and handing Kaden his weapon, feeling suddenly cold and alone. "All of us should prepare for our arrival. We have not a moment to spare."
Brianna and Simon rode hard for what remained of the day. As soon as the sun went down, the rain began to fall. Sporadically at first, then huge drops as Simon had predicted. The heavens opened and rain poured down with stunning force. Brianna could hear the drumming of water on the makeshift lean-to Simon had created out of sticks and ferns. Surprisingly, few drops managed to pierce the foliage above them.
The fire Simon had built was small, but it provided adequate warmth and had allowed them to cook a trout he'd caught in the nearby stream. The fresh meat tasted good after so many days of dried fish and oats.
Gazing into the fire, with nothing else to do, Brianna became suddenly aware of the nearness of Simon's body. She could see the rise and fall of his chest, imagined the tension of his hands as they clenched the hilt of his sword, and his eyes…
Simon jerked his gaze away and shifted restlessly. "It appears as though we'll be stuck here until morning," he said, his voice tight.
The scent of the rain mixed with that of burning acacia wood, surrounding them. The earthy scents melded with the musk and soap of Simon's fragrance. She breathed deeply, pulling the scents deep into her body. She wanted to hold on to his scent forever.
&
nbsp; But that wasn't all she wanted to hold on to forever. The thought sent a ripple of awareness through her. She wanted so many things when it came to Simon. She wanted his trust. She wanted his companionship. And, if the feverish heat warming her limbs were any indication, she also wanted to be joined with Simon in the same searing fashion she had known before. She wanted to look at him in the evening light. She wanted to touch him. She moistened her lips and experienced a hot, melting sensation between her thighs.
A gasp tore from her lips.
His gaze shot to her face. "Is it your hand? Does it hurt?"
"Nay." She inhaled sharply and remained still, looking helplessly at him.
"Then what is it?" he asked.
She could not bear this. It was time to be brave. "I want you to touch me. I want you to kiss me."
He leaned back as far as their small structure would allow. "I can't touch you, Brianna." His voice was choked. "If I do I might not be able to stop and I have absolutely no desire to hurt you any more than you've already been hurt."
"You will never hurt me as he did." Her gaze was on his face and she smiled. If she wanted to be near him tonight, she would have to show him just how healed she was. "The Grail has done miraculous things for my fingers. Would you like to see?"
Before he could object, she loosened the bandages from her hand and slowly unwound the thin sheets of linen he'd placed there, until her fingers were freed. "My smallest finger sustained the most damage. I still cannot bend it, but it appears almost normal." She bent the other two fingers near the thumb. "You can still see a scar where you sewed me up, but other than that, they are working better than I ever dared to hope."
He reached for her hand and cradled it in his larger one. With his thumb he stroked the renewed flesh up and down with a feather-light touch. "Truly, I would not have believed this was possible if I hadn't seen it myself." His brow creased as a frown came to his face. "The man should have been dead after his fall from the castle tower. But somehow he managed to survive and kidnap Brother Roinald. Only Roinald could have revealed the location of the Templar treasure. Any good health de la Roche enjoys now is because he stole the Grail and used it for himself."
A Knight to Desire Page 15
