Highland Resurrection (Blades of Honor Book 2)

by B. J. Scott

  “I dinna realize it was injured until I stood up,” she replied. “I vaguely remember stumbling when I ran from my attackers. But I was too frightened of being caught and what they planned to do to me to think about it until now.”

  “Well we canna leave you on the floor.” Lazarus slid his arm behind her back. “Loop your arm around my neck and dinna try to move too fast. Your ribs are still tender, I’m sure.”

  Her breath caught, and not because of pain. She clung to his free arm for support, a strong energy surging through her body the minute she touched his sleeve. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt the attraction, but she’d done her best to ignore it. When their gazes met, she swallowed hard. What magic did this man possess?

  “Let’s get you back to bed,” Lazarus said and began to lift her.

  “Wait. Where is Quinn?” She was so relieved to see Lazarus, she’d forgotten to ask about the lad.

  “He went to check the rabbit snares and will be right in.” Lazarus scooped her up as if she weighed no more than a feather, then carried her to the pallet. He laid her upon it and covered her with a pelt. “Are you comfortable?”

  “Aye.” She clutched the fur under her chin and gazed up at him. Lazarus had to be one of the handsomest men she’d ever met, and her stomach did a little flip each time she looked at him. And his gentleness and compassion were something she’d never known in a man. Which made sending him away even more difficult.

  With his fists planted on the pallet beside her, he leaned in close. “I want your promise that you willna get up again without assistance,” he said then brushed a lock of hair from her brow.

  For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, his lips so close to hers she could almost taste them. And the most disturbing part was when she realized if he’d tried, she might have let him.

  “Look! We got one.” Quinn raced into the croft, holding a rabbit in the air.

  “Aye, and a fine fat one at that.” Lazarus straightened and moved away from the pallet. “He will make a fine stew. Put it on the table with the rest of the supplies and I’ll clean it once I have gotten your sister something to drink.”

  “I’m fine,” she said on a strangled breath. Fate had intervened this time, but what about the next time they were alone? How long could she fight temptation? Lazarus had to leave.

  “How do you fare, Sheena?” Quinn moved to her side. “Did you rest well?”

  Sheena glanced up at Lazarus, then smiled at Quinn. She saw no need to tell him about her fall. “Aye, I had a fine nap. Did you have a good trip to town? I hope you minded Brother Lazarus.”

  Quinn nodded. “Aye. We got the supplies and saw a French soldier in the village, and even spoke to him.”

  “Frenchmen in Berwick?” Her scrutiny quickly shifted from her brother to Lazarus. “And you let Quinn talk to them?” She didn’t bother to hide the concern or ire in her voice. “What on earth were you thinking?”

  “The guard approached us and asked us a few questions is all that happened. I couldna very well ignore or evade the man.” Lazarus motioned to Quinn with a flick of his hand. “You have something to give your sister, do you na?”

  “Och, aye, I’ll get them.” Quinn scampered off to retrieve the nuts, then returned, beaming. “I bought these for you. I thought they might help to make you feel better.” He handed her the sack.

  Sheena peeked inside and smiled. “This was very thoughtful of you, Quinn. I love sweetened nuts.” She took one out and popped it into her mouth. “When I was a wee lass, my mother purchased some for the Hogmanay celebration. I have never forgotten how great they tasted.”

  “I wish I could have been there.” Quinn lowered his gaze. “Celebrating with Mam and Da must have been special.”

  Sheena slid her fingers beneath his chin and lifted until their eyes met. “Aye, it was. But not as special as the times we have shared. Like this one.” She popped a nut into his mouth.

  “I’ll let you two enjoy the treats while I go and see to the evening meal.” Lazarus turned to leave.

  She swallowed hard, then glared at Lazarus’s back. He hadn’t answered her questions. “Stay where you are and dinna try to change the subject. I want to know why you allowed my brother to talk to a French—”

  A heavy knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

  Chapter 8

  Lazarus swallowed hard, his pulse pounding as he approached the door. Had the French soldier he’d spoken to in the village become suspicious and followed him? His palms sweating, he hesitated as he reached for the latch. Another knock caused him to jump.

  “Are you going to see who is there?” Sheena asked.

  “I’ll get it.” Quinn darted for the door.

  Lazarus held up his hand, stopping the lad’s advancement. “You wait inside with your sister and dinna come out. No matter what you hear, I want you to stay put. Do you understand?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “Is something amiss? Tell me,” Sheena demanded.

  “I dinna know, but I see no point in taking any chances.” Lazarus opened the door enough to slip outside, then closed it behind him.

  “Thank the Lord, I have finally found you,” Simon said.

  Lazarus released the breath he was holding, relieved it was his friend and not the French guard. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you. And you led me on a merry chase,” Simon admonished.

  “You shouldna have bothered, Simon. As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “That may be, but you left the abbey several days ago and said you would be back by nightfall. When you dinna show up, I feared the worst,” Simon said. “I have been searching for days and it was only by sheer luck that I found you.”

  “There was no need to fash, but I am curious how you knew where to look?”

  Simon’s brow furrowed. “It wasna easy to determine.”

  “You dinna do or say anything that might alert the French authorities as to my whereabouts, did you?” Lazarus combed his fingers through his hair. “Speaking to the wrong person could give me away.” After his close call in town today, he knew French agents were searching for him. The last thing he needed was for Simon to be asking questions that might make them suspicious.

  “Do you take me for a fool?” Simon asked. “I was very discrete. I scoured the town for three days, keeping my eyes and ears open. I was about to give up and return to the abbey, when I overheard a vendor telling a woman she should be careful when venturing out alone.”

  “How did that help you in your search?” Lazarus scratched his head. Simon was famous for taking forever to tell a short story and Lazarus wished he would get to the point.

  “Upon further eavesdropping, I heard him explain that a lass was attacked in the cattle yard recently, and if not for the assistance of a monk, she’d have been violated.”

  Lazarus pinned Simon with a stare. “Hopefully the vendor dinna suspect you were listening in on their conversation. Did he mention how he learned of the attack?”

  “He said two of his patrons and another fellow were discussing their conquests with the ladies. The one man boasted how he had his way with the lass. But the other one laughed and said a monk had stopped the braggart before he got started. Since you mentioned something happened when you were in Berwick, and I know you couldna turn your back on anyone in distress, it dinna take a scholar to figure out you were that monk.”

  Lazarus lowered his gaze. “You know me too well, Simon. I had to come back and check on the lass and got caught up in what I was doing here. However, you are right. I should have sent you word.”

  Simon grabbed Lazarus’s sleeve. “Aye, you should have let me know you were safe. But now that I have located you and you have eased your conscience, let us return to the priory at once.”

 
; Lazarus tugged free of his friend’s grasp. “I canna leave.” He stepped off the porch and motioned for Simon to join him in a small copse of trees behind the hut.

  Simon followed. “What do you mean you canna leave? In case you havena heard, King Phillip has sent a group of men to find you. The person in charge of the search, Father Marquis, is—”

  “He sent a priest?” Lazarus interrupted.

  “Father Marquis is no ordinary priest. He is like a man possessed. If he dinna wear the collar and pray on a regular basis, I would swear he was a servant of Satan and not the Almighty.” Simon crossed himself and kissed the crucifix he wore around his neck.

  “Is he staying at Ayton Abbey?” Lazarus asked. If so, returning there once Sheena was well would not be possible.

  “He is residing at Coldingham Abbey, but he or one of his men visit daily, asking questions about the Knight Templar, fugitives who might be hiding in Scotland, and about you in particular. When speaking of the holy order of knights, you can hear the contempt in his voice.”

  “He mentioned me by name?” Lazarus scrubbed his hand across his beard-stubbled chin. It had been a couple of years since he’d left France and he figured if they were going to find him, they would have before this.

  “Aye. He has also dispatched several French guards to Berwick and the surrounding villages. They report back to him on a regular basis,” Simon added.

  “I think I might have met one of them earlier today when in town,” Lazarus said. “I’d wager this Father Marquis stands to get a large reward for my capture. And for any other knight he manages to locate.”

  “You’re a fool to go to Berwick and are lucky you werena arrested,” Simon chided.

  “The guard asked me a few questions,” Lazarus said, “then let me go. He obviously had no idea who I was.”

  “All the more reason for you to leave this place. It will only be a matter of time before they realize you’re the man they are looking for,” Simon pointed out. “Each time you go to Berwick, you run the risk of being captured. You must not go there again. Return to the abbey, and I’ll do what I can to help you escape.”

  “Nay. If they were coming for me, they would have by now. I canna leave. Not yet,” Lazarus replied. “If you had a difficult time finding me, the chances of them locating me are even less.”

  “But I did find you.” Simon threw his hands up and shook his head. “You’re a thrawn man. Father Marquis claims you orchestrated the prison break and is convinced you know the whereabouts of other Knights Templar hiding in Scotland. He said King Philip believes you took the treasure when you left France and declared he will leave no stone unturned until he finds you.”

  Lazarus began to pace. “I escaped with my life and the tattered clothes on my back, but not with any riches. Had you not kept my dirk for me when I left for the Holy Land, I’d have returned to Scotland with no earthly possessions. And nothing with which to pay—”

  “You no longer have the dirk I found in your boot the day I rescued you from the death pile? It was your only connection to your past,” Simon reminded him.

  “I’m aware of that, but I needed it to pay for a service done for me,” Lazarus informed him.

  “If you let it go, you must have had a very good reason. What you do with your possessions is your affair and not mine,” Simon conceded. “And what of the other knights? Do you know where they are holed up?”

  Lazarus twisted the Templar ring he wore on his left hand. “I have no idea of their whereabouts, but pray they are safe. We parted ways in France and I havena seen any of them since. But if I did know where they were hiding, I wouldna betray them.”

  Simon nodded. “I believe you. However, Father Marquis is convinced otherwise and is hellbent on taking you back to France. Return to the abbey with me now and I’ll find you sanctuary far away from Ayton. If you insist on remaining here in the village, I can be of no help to you. Dressed like a monk, it willna be long before someone reports seeing you.”

  “I told you I canna go back to the abbey.” Lazarus slammed his balled fist against a tree. “I have a task I must tend to here and I willna shirk my responsibilities.”

  “What could be more important than saving your life?” Simon asked impatiently.

  Lazarus turned his back to his friend and drew in a slow, deep breath. “My life means naught if I dinna see this through. I once put my own safety before another’s and it ended in the death of a very dear friend. Living with that knowledge for two years is hard enough. I refuse to add another bitter regret.”

  Simon slid his hand over Lazarus’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “What happened to you in France is in the past and you canna change it. But you can do something about the here and now.”

  Lazarus spun around to face his friend. “It might be in the past, but it haunts me day and night.”

  “What haunts you? You have told me very little about what actually happened to you after you escaped. Just that you found your way back to Scotland.”

  “Several Knights Templar escaped from the French prison the night I did, thanks to a disgruntled guard.”

  Simon nodded. “Aye, you told me that part of the story.”

  “But there was one thing I dinna mention. Something that I have tried to push to the back of my mind, but failed.” Lazarus scrubbed his hand across his chin.

  “Go on. I’m listening.”

  “As you also know, I suffered countless beatings at the hands of the French. The night we escaped, I could hardly walk, let alone run. I dinna want to slow the others down and once we were clear of the castle, I insisted they go on without me.”

  “So you’re not merely protecting the other knights. You really havena seen any of them?” Simon asked.

  “Nay.”

  “If you werena able to remain with the others, how did you avoid being recaptured?”

  “I came across a small farm not far from the castle. It belonged to a widow named Marie.” Lazarus closed his eyes, remembering her lovely smile, her sparkling blue eyes, and the soft lilt of her voice. “Her husband was killed on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land two years prior, and she lived alone. I managed to drag myself into the stable, but collapsed on the hay. When I woke up, she was hovering over me.”

  “And she dinna turn you in, I take it,” Simon said.

  “On the contrary. She brought me into her home and nursed me back to health. She hid me in a storage cellar beneath her croft when the French soldiers searched the farm for fugitives, and told them she had never seen me.”

  “You were truly blessed, Lazarus. It is as if she were your guardian angel.”

  “Aye, but they warned her if she was not telling the truth and they found out, she would be executed for treason.”

  “So you left to protect her?”

  Lazarus hung his head, shame washing over him. “She dinna want me to go. But I was convinced my presence put her in danger. So I ran away that night while she slept. Only to find out the soldiers came back the next day, arrested her, and she was put to death for harboring me.”

  “You canna blame yourself for that,” Simon said. “She knew the risks and leaving was the only prudent thing you could have done.”

  “I should have stayed and—”

  The door opened a crack and Quinn peered out. “Is everything okay, Brother Lazarus? Sheena and I were getting worried about you.”

  “Close the door and go back inside, Quinn. Tell your sister everything is fine. I’ll join you soon.” Lazarus waited for him to comply before focusing on Simon.

  Simon frowned. “A lad and the lass are the reasons you have shoved all common sense aside?”

  “It is not what you think.”

  Simon planted his hands on his hips and pinned Lazarus with a glower of disapproval. “Then enlighten me, Brother. I
want to know why you refuse to come away with me now.”

  “I told you I needed to set a wrong to right,” Lazarus began, but paused to suck in a deep breath, then continued. “I witnessed the attempted defilement of a young woman and intervened before the blackguards were able to complete the dastardly deed. But the lass was injured and unable to get home on her own.”

  “So you came to her rescue. An admiral endeavor,” Simon said. “If you helped her, then brought her here, I see no reason for you to return to Berwick or to tarry any longer.”

  “It is not that easy. Instead of personally bringing her here, I engaged the help of a passing stranger who’d stopped and offered his assistance. I gave him my dirk as payment for seeing her to her croft. Then I returned to the abbey.”

  “Well, as long as someone took her home, that is all that matters. She obviously arrived safely.”

  “My conscience wouldna let me rest,” Lazarus said. “The lass was injured and in need of medical attention. When I heard what sounded like French soldiers heading in our direction, I asked the man, he said his name was Ian Fraser, to see her home. But I regretted the decision right after I made it.”

  “Any man who suffered the torture you did in France would have done the same thing,” Simon said. “You kept the lass from being defiled, then made certain she would get home safely with a man you deemed trustworthy. I know you would never have left her with someone you felt was a threat.”

  “That matters not. I should have stayed,” Lazarus replied.

  “To run the risk of being captured when there was no need of it would have been foolish.”

  “I could never have lived with myself if I hadna returned.” Lazarus pointed at the hut. “When I arrived, I found the lass, holding on to life by a mere thread. She was being cared for by her seven-year-old brother. Had I not come back, she’d have perished.”