Chalice of Roses

by Jo Beverley

  Thinking of Galahad and Percival, he said, “If being a Grail warden means celibacy, I’m resigning right now!”

  She laughed. “My mother says that such purity is a medieval Christian addition to the legend. I think a good heart is required, but you seem to have that. It appears that the Grail called out for a seventh child who is an honorable warrior who carries the sacred blood and has the essential quality of being nearby. That call brought you to the chapel, then led you to me to provide the knowledge you would need to rescue the Grail.”

  He thought again about how very long the day had been. “A farm boy from Canada is supposed to rescue the Holy Grail from an unknown sorcerer. Maybe we all need to start studying German.”

  “A fighter pilot who admits defeat?” she asked coolly. “You surprise me, Wing Commander.”

  “Show me a Messerschmitt, or a whole squadron of them, and I’ll have a go. But searching for the Grail? I don’t know where to start.” He gestured at her. “Why not you? You understand all this, and you have magical powers.”

  “But you’re the one who has the connection to the Grail. Though you’re untrained, that power that passed to you from the dying warden is very strong. Let’s see what you can do with it.” She moved to a battered oak sideboard and removed a folded map from the top drawer, then spread it on the table between the lamps. “Calm your mind. Close your eyes if that will help. Then see if you can sense the chalice.”

  He obeyed, though calming his mind was difficult when his thoughts churned with all Jane Macrae had told him. But as his mind stilled, he found that the world had changed. “I sense a . . . a point of light somewhere out there. Very bright. Pulsing. It’s . . . glorious.” The effusiveness of that embarrassed him, but no lesser description suited.

  “It has to be the Grail.” She sounded excited. “Can you tell where?”

  He opened his eyes and studied the map. “We’re about here?” He touched a spot in the Highlands.

  “Very good. Now, where is the chalice?”

  The knowledge was instant. “There.” He pointed to a spot north of the croft’s location.

  “Do you know how he’s traveling? For that matter, is the thief even male?”

  That was harder. David frowned. “I think by car. And male. I’m sure of that.”

  “He seems to be on the main road to Inverness, but there’s a branch to the east coming up. There aren’t many roads through the Highlands.” Jane’s face was lovely and intent in the enhanced lamplight. “Do you know where he’s heading?”

  Again the answer was clear in David’s mind. “Here.” He tapped the great bay that chopped into the northeast coast of Scotland.

  “Moray Firth. That makes sense,” she said thoughtfully. “He’s probably going to meet a submarine. Nazi U-boats are common in the North Sea. Easier for one to sneak into the firth than to bring in an airplane or a surface boat.” She glanced up at David. “Can you pick up anything else about the chalice or the thief?”

  He did his best to clear his mind and learn more, but with no luck. “Sorry. Though I have a strong sense of the Grail, that’s it. There’s nothing else.”

  “But you do have that connection. I wonder if I can use it? I’m pretty good at reading people, and if I link through you, I might find out more about the black sorcerer.” She extended her hands. “Shall we try?”

  “You’re the expert.” Even if he wasn’t cut out to be a Grail warden, he didn’t object to holding the hands of a beautiful woman. Particularly a woman who had knocked him endwise the first moment he saw her.

  He clasped her hands and again felt a jolt of energy. “That zapping between us, like static electricity on a January night. Is that Grail energy?”

  “Some of it.” There was an odd note in her voice. “Not all. Relax now and close your eyes. This won’t hurt, but you might feel me touching your mind.”

  To his wonderment, he could. Her presence in his head was like a gossamer brush of silk, or the fragrance of June lilac blossoms. Impossible to define, but unquestionably Jane.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I’ve linked through you to the chalice. Dear God, but the energy is splendid! Like nothing I’ve ever experienced. We can’t allow the chalice to be corrupted into evil uses!”

  “The Grail is doing its best to resist the sorcerer,” he said slowly, not sure how he knew, but utterly convinced. “It’s fighting to stay in Britain.”

  “Good, because we need all the help we can get. Now let’s look at the thief,” Jane murmured. There was silence for a dozen heartbeats. “He’s an SS colonel, and his name is . . . Krieger. He . . .”

  She screamed and her hands clutched his convulsively before she collapsed to the floor. David was almost dragged down with her as black lightning seared through him with vicious malice. Dizzily he realized that he was the conduit, and Jane was the target. He caught the edge of the table and drew shuddering breaths until his mind cleared.

  He dropped to his knees beside Jane. She couldn’t be dead—she couldn’t be!

  He checked the pulse in her throat, sighing with relief to find it strong. Bending, he scooped her in his arms and carried her to the double bed at the far end of the room. She was unexpectedly light. He realized that she was barely average height. He’d thought her taller because of her presence.

  He laid her on the mattress and pulled off her shoes, then undid the top button of her blouse. As he perched on the mattress beside her, her eyes flickered open.

  “The black sorcerer is no longer a theory,” she whispered. “His power is immense. Fortunately he struck us from a distance, or we might both be dead. He was aiming at me, but you must have been scorched as the energy passed through you.”

  “Some, but I wasn’t hit as hard as you.” He braced one arm on the mattress as he bent over her. “My skepticism about magic has just vanished. You’re okay?”

  “I’ve been better, but no permanent damage was done.” She rubbed her temple with tense fingers. “We are going to have to find a way to summon more power when we confront Krieger, or we’ll never recover the Grail.”

  “Can you call on other Guardians? You grew up here and you seem to have a large family.”

  “Finding other Guardians would take time we don’t have.” Jane sighed. “The only one I could reach quickly is my mother, who is running the family estate at Dunrath, and she doesn’t have the right kind of magic. Everyone else is doing war work, mostly dangerous, and all of it distant.” Her fingers tightened on the coverlet. “I . . . I have nightmares about which of them will die first.”

  He caught her hand, knowing how he would feel if his older brothers and sisters were endangered. “Don’t assume the worst prematurely. I suspect you Guardians are hard to kill. Jamie has survived some of the most vicious and dangerous fighting of the war.” He frowned, thinking about what she’d said. “Do you have enough brothers and sisters to be a seventh child?”

  “Not really, though there are seven of us altogether. Both my parents had children from earlier marriages. Jamie is my only full sibling. He’s just a year older, and we were almost like twins growing up. The others are half brothers and sisters. Not that it matters,” she added fiercely. “We’re all family.”

  “Maybe the Grail thinks half siblings are good enough, so you’re a seventh child, too.” He smiled, repressing the impulse to brush back her silky dark red hair. “I say we take any extra power we can get.”

  She became very still, her gaze searching. “There is another source of increased power. But it’s the most outrageous of all.”

  His smile turned wry. “I think I’m beyond shock. What would that be?”

  “That you and I become lovers.”

  Chapter 3

  Her handsome Canadian stared at her, his jaw dropping. “So much for being beyond shock,” David said faintly. “I’ve officially fallen through the rabbit hole. The Mad Hatter will be along any moment now.”

  Despite his amazed disbelief, Jane could see hot, swift desire
flare around him. She was glad for confirmation that the crackling sexual energy when they touched wasn’t only on her side. Mutual desire made it somewhat less embarrassing to proposition a man who was, in worldly terms, a stranger.

  But he wasn’t a stranger, not really. Every fiber of her being responded to him, and the desire was more than physical. Since Philip’s death, she had been lonely to the bone, and now she craved David’s warmth and kindness. Not as a substitute for Philip, but because she wanted David himself, even if it was for only a single night.

  It was easier to speak of the magical situation. “The spear and the chalice are ancient fertility symbols,” she said. “Male and female balance each other. Together they have the power to create new life. It’s no accident a man and a woman were drawn together for this mission.”

  She raised a hand and cupped his cheek, feeling the rasp of whiskers. Masculine, and unutterably appealing. “My intuition says that if we’re to have any chance of recovering the chalice, we must join to forge a power greater than the sum of us as individuals.”

  “But I can’t do that,” he said wretchedly. “It would be wrong.”

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t think. Do you have a wife or sweetheart?” Chilled, she dropped her hand, concealing her painful disappointment. That was merely personal, but the deeper issue remained. They needed this joining to stop Krieger.

  “My girlfriend in Halifax broke it off when I decided to join the RAF.” He brushed her hair tenderly. “But . . . I’m a pilot from the provinces, and you’re a lady. The next thing to a goddess, actually. And we hardly know each other.”

  “I feel that I know you well, David,” she said softly, skimming her hand down his arm. He shivered under her touch. “We’ve been called together for a great mission, and our minds and spirits have met. I think our bodies need to join, too. Time is short, and nothing will strengthen us more quickly than making love together.”

  He caught her hand and kissed the knuckles. “Is this love? So soon?”

  “I have no intention of falling in love until the war is over,” she said, unable to mask the bleak edge in her voice. “But that doesn’t mean that what happens between us won’t be honest and true.”

  “You lost someone?” he asked quietly.

  “My fiancé.” She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. “Jamie’s best friend. Another fighter pilot, but not so lucky as you and Jamie have been. He died two days before we were to be married.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He bent and kissed her with the profound understanding of a man who had seen too many friends go down in flames. “If you want honesty—well, it’s God’s own truth that you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

  He kissed her again, this time more deeply as her mouth opened under his. “And the most desirable, my Lady Jane,” he breathed. “If you wish me to worship you with my body, I shall do so with awe and thanks.”

  Weeping, she drew him down into an embrace. The ice within her thawed, then melted in a rush as the white heat of desire removed all doubts and awkwardness. Dimly she sensed that this was the Grail’s gift to them: a passionate interlude that gave joy as surely as it forged them into a powerful weapon.

  As their kisses became more heated, they began removing each other’s clothes with swift urgency. As his flying jacket and shirt came off, she ran her hands down his back. He had a beautiful body, lean and muscular. She murmured, “Are all Canadian men so lovely?”

  He chuckled. “I have no idea, but I guarantee all of us would blush at that description.” He nibbled his way down her throat. “Are all Guardian women so beautiful?”

  “Those who aren’t become good at illusions,” she said teasingly. “I may look nothing like what you think. Maybe I’m really scrawny, with buckteeth and bad skin.”

  “It wouldn’t matter,” he said as they laughed together.

  She was glad they could share laughter as well as lust.

  “You may fool my sight, but not my touch,” he retorted as he bent to her breast. “This is no illusion.”

  She gasped, loving his lips on her breast, the press of his skin against hers. She reveled in his scent, his kisses, his joyful exploration of her body. Her energy field opened like a flower, admitting him so their spirits could blend together.

  He had an instinctive understanding of what would please her. She used her own instincts to return that understanding. They came together with an intensity that burned away the worries of the war that had turned their world upside down. For this brief hour, nothing mattered but joy and intimacy deeper than any she’d ever known.

  They climaxed together, and power whirled around and through them, forging two individuals into a single weapon of light. Then they slowly descended from the heights, panting for breath as they lay in each other’s arms in exhausted silence.

  The lamplight from the kitchen illuminated the quiet strength of David’s face and body as he turned onto his side and drew the covers over them. The Grail had chosen well when it called this man to its service.

  Jane’s arm was draped over his waist, her knee tucked between his. She knew this intimacy would be brief, and that made it all the more precious. “This night is too short,” she murmured.

  His arm tightened across her bare back. “I know. But I’ll never forget it, no matter how long I live, my Lady Jane.”

  “Why do you call me Lady Jane?” she asked curiously.

  “Because it suits you.” He smiled wryly. “Plus, if we’re going on a quest to find the Grail, knights and ladies seem appropriate.”

  Smiling inwardly, she said, “We’d best try for sleep in what time is left,” she said. “We must leave at dawn. My guess is that we have at most twenty-four hours before the chalice is beyond reach. Probably less.”

  “Shouldn’t we leave now?”

  She shook her head. “He can’t travel quickly through the blackout. Using regular lights would attract too much attention. We’d be just as limited, so better to spend the time resting. We’ll need it.”

  “Being with you gives me more strength than sleeping the clock around.” His arm curved around her so that he could cup her breast. “But I’ll enjoy more time sleeping with you.”

  “As long as we sleep,” she murmured as she covered a yawn.

  His expression became grave. “I hate to admit that I never even thought about the potential consequences of making love. That was very wrong of me.”

  “No need to worry. Guardian women seldom conceive unless they want to, so you’re safe enough.” Even as she spoke the reassurance, she knew without words that he was more concerned about her safety than his own.

  “I can feel the change in our energies,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s almost like you’re a candle glowing inside me. I feel . . . stronger and better focused. More prepared for whatever might come.”

  “I also feel stronger,” she said. “Through you, I’m joined to the power of the Grail itself. It’s like stepping into a fountain of light.”

  “All that and pleasure, too,” he murmured as he turned his head and kissed her ear. “Do you think that more passion will create even more power?”

  “I don’t know.” She smiled at him, recklessly deciding that she didn’t need more sleep. “But I’d like to find out.”

  As dawn lightened the sky, they drank tea and finished the digestive biscuits while consulting the map. “He’s taken the road east, away from Inverness, and he’s moving pretty quickly,” David said, pointing. “As you thought, he hasn’t covered much ground since we looked last night.”

  “It’s hard to travel fast on these roads even in full daylight. Maybe he spent some time napping, since he has no reason to think he’s being pursued.” Jane studied the map. “The farther east he travels from Inverness, the easier it will be for a U-boat to collect him. If the area is remote enough, they might not even have to wait until dark.”

  David frowned. “Will we be able to catch up with him? As you say, these are slow roads.”
>
  “We’ll catch him,” she said confidently. “Assuming that you can fly a biplane? A Fairey Fox. It’s a fifteen-year-old RAF surplus, but well kept.”

  “I can fly anything,” David said with a touch of fighter-pilot arrogance. “Where is the biplane?”

  “Not far. The Fox belongs to Jamie and our sister Gwynne, the flying Macraes. They saved up until they could buy their own plane. It’s at the family estate at Dunrath.”

  “Lucky devils,” he murmured. “Will they mind if we borrow it?”

  “Not for a reason like this.” When Jane retrieved her jacket, David took it away and helped her in. It was a totally unnecessary gesture, and she loved it. This relationship might last only a day, but as she’d foreseen, it was honest and real.

  Once again, she took the wheel of the Morris Minor. David looked rested enough to drive, but she knew the way.

  The sky was light enough to allow Jane to travel at top speed. As the old Morris whipped around a corner, David said mildly, “The way you drive, I would have thought you’d go in for flying, too.”

  She laughed. “Jamie gave me some lessons. I enjoyed them, but I haven’t the passion for flying that he and Gwynne share.” They turned into a rare straight stretch of road, so she pressed down hard on the accelerator. “I do like to drive, though.”

  “Lay on, Macrae, and cursed be him who first cries, ‘Hold, away!’” he murmured.

  “A man who likes to torture Shakespeare!” she said with delight. “You have hidden charms, Wing Commander.” She glanced at him mischievously. “Almost as fine as the ones that weren’t hidden.”

  He slouched lower in the seat and pulled his RAF hat down. “I see that you’re determined to embarrass me back to Halifax, Lady Jane,” he said with resigned amusement. “My father warned me about the wicked, worldly women I might meet in the old country.” He slanted her a glance in return. “I’m so glad he was right.”

  She laughed again with more pure happiness than she’d known in . . . a very long time. But the seriousness of their mission settled over her again when she turned onto the rough track that led to the Dunrath airstrip. As they bumped along the track, David gazed at the hill looming above them. “Is that a real castle up there?”