“Christ Catherine,” Galeren swore both with relief and concern as he searched her over for signs of injury. Their audience had shortly left them and despite her assuring him she was fine, but for impact of the fall, he was unconvinced.
“Stop fussing!” she scolded gently, “my fall was broken.” She said looking over at the dead man.
“Who was he?” she asked.
“A torturer,” Galeren said, “I played straight into De Floyran’s hands, but I was angry and I could smell the blood of my brethren on him. I shall not lose sleep over his death.”
“I swear to you I’m fine,” she said taking his hands in hers. “It is you who is injured.” She looked at his body which was beaten and bruised and shook her head.
“Not anymore,” he said, looking at her and smiling, “it looks worse than it feels. And you tell me the truth when you say that De Floyran hasn’t touched you?”
“I do,” Catherine said. It was a small mercy but she wondered for how long it would remain that way. Though she was relieved to see Galeren, she knew that their reunion would be cruelly short lived.
“You fool,” she whispered, “you shouldn’t have come here. I told you there was nothing but death. He means to torment you and you have given him the opportunity now.”
“It was worth it, just to see you again. I would have gone to hell for that.”
She shook her head at him. “This is hell, you fool!”
“Did you think I would leave you here?” Galeren asked fervently, “what should I have done, Catherine? Carry on with my life and pretend we never met?”
“I don’t know.” She said miserably. “All I know is that we’re in a terrible trap with no hope of escape.”
“There is always hope.” He said, but was wondering himself where to look for it. De Floyran had won the battle and the King of France and Pope had witnessed his change from wolf to man. The Pope would hasten to join the assault on the Templars, now he had witnessed the truth.
How could there be any hope for them? They were truly lost and he was the cause of it, once again. Not only had he failed to kill De Floyran sixteen years ago, but he had broken and changed for De Floyran’s little show. The Templars who had died in this God forsaken place had withstood terrible torture. Yet they had still resisted the will to change as their instincts would have directed. But it was easier to sacrifice yourself than someone you love.
The Templars that had been arrested were doomed and De Villiers had as much told him that when he had arrived in England. Their only hope was for the ones that were still free to disappear and start again. The Knights Templar may be finished but their race was not, at least his father and the council had taken evasive action and not without time. They could not all be saved.
“I met your father,” Catherine said.
“How is he?” Galeren asked, not sure whether he wanted to know what state his father was in.
“As well as he can be under the circumstances. He is very proud of you.” She said smiling.
“He won’t be when he finds out what just happened.” Galeren sighed.
“He knows what is going on here. There is no one to blame but De Floyran and the King.”
Galeren nodded slowly. “What did he make of us?”
“He was happy, but not at our situation.”
“Perhaps, I should have left you at the convent, saved you from this.” He said bitterly.
“You still would not have saved me from De Floyran.”
“No,” he agreed.
“Maybe it is my turn to save you.” Catherine suggested.
“I think you already did.” He said, pulling her towards him. “I just don’t want to be parted from you again. I don’t want him to hurt you.” He held her tightly.
“We could end it,” she said, “here.”
He looked at her oddly and then she said, “Would you take my life?”
He pulled back from her, “I could never kill you Catherine. Though much pain it could save you, I couldn’t bring myself to. Not while I think there may be the tiniest hope.”
“Then let us cling to that hope,” she said.
The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One) Page 32
