A Knight to Desire (15 page)

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Authors: Gerri Russell

BOOK: A Knight to Desire
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She tore her gaze away from him. "I won't let you die."

"Brianna." Simon's tone was serious as he stepped away from the hearth and to her once more, his dark eyes probing as they usually did. "My death does not frighten me."

She lifted her chin with defiance. "I lost my brothers because you kept me from acting upon my dreams once before. I refuse to allow that to happen again." She strode forward until she stood sword to sword with him. "You can order me away, chain me to a tree, whatever you like, but I'll find a way free. This time I'm not going anywhere, Simon Lockhart. Until you die or we both die or we defeat de la Roche, we are in this together until the very end."

Before he could reply, she stepped back and said, "Wake the others. If we are to leave soon, I'll need to inform them about my dreams."

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

The sun had barely crept over the eastern horizon as the occupants of Crosswick Abbey gathered in the refectory to listen to Brianna's recounting of her dreams. The men no longer looked at Brianna with suspicion as they had upon their arrival yesterday. Instead, they appeared now to accept that she was one of them, despite her gender. They leaned toward her, waiting attentively.

Before Brianna could begin, Brother Kenneth bustled into the chamber and placed a mug of clear liquid before her. "My most sincere apologies, milady." Lines of worry bracketed the abbot's dark eyes. "I don't know what went wrong. I know my herbs well. Yet someone managed to switch the dried lettuce for belladonna. 'Tis a miracle I did not kill you!" The abbot grasped the cross that hung about his neck and clamped it between his fingers until his knuckles turned white. "I have burned the tainted herbs so no one else might be affected. It was so dark, and I only wanted to help you dream…"

Brianna stood and moved to the abbot's side. She reached for his fingers, gently unfurling them until she clasped them with her own smaller hands. "I do not blame you, Abbott. It was a mistake. I am fine, thanks to Simon. And, I did manage to sleep and then dream thanks to your potion." She smiled and some of the worry left the abbot's face.

"Please accept this healing tonic I offer you now. It will purify your blood and make certain none of the belladonna remains inside you." He offered her a sheepish smile. "It's quite safe, I promise. I drank some of it myself just to be certain."

"That was very kind of you." Brianna's gaze shifted from the abbot to the cup. She reached for the wooden mug and brought it to her lips, drinking deeply. When the contents were gone, she handed the mug back to the abbot. "Very reviving. Now I feel certain we can get on to my dreams with clear thinking."

Brother Kenneth nodded. "Aye, tell us all about what you saw," he said waving Brianna back to her seat, then settling down on the bench beside her.

"The man I saw in my dreams was dressed as you all are — in monk's robes. He is of average height with dark hair that is cut close to his head, and he has eerie light blue eyes. He still walks with a bit of a limp as well."

"Tell us of your dreams," Brother Kenneth prompted. 

Brianna nodded. "With the help of your draught, I had three distinct dreams, revealing three locations. Simon has been trying to identify them on the map for some time. Perhaps the rest of you might help us there."

Simon looked up from the parchment scroll containing the monastery's only map. The map had been fashioned by Brother Bernard after one of his journeys from the abbey to the western isles. The outlines of the coast, the isles, rivers, and harbors were reflected in bold ink, but the parchment also bore the image of Christ rising over the top of the map with angels on either side that were surrounded by stars and celestial bodies.

It was more a work of art than a directional tool, but perhaps if Brianna could describe the inn or the cave in detail, one of the monks might recall a specific location.

"In one of the dreams I saw a cave. The cave was unusual." Brianna frowned as she struggled to put words to the image in her memory. "This might sound odd, but the landscape looked as though rocks in the form of pillars exploded upward from the depths of the sea, to remain that way for all eternity."

Brother Kenneth's eyes widened. "I know this place. It's off the coastline of the Isle of Mull. You speak of Fingal's Cave on the small isle of Staffa." The excitement in the abbot's dark eyes faded. "That isle is difficult to reach, even by boat. The Atlantic swells may very well crush you against the rocks before you can find purchase to land."

"If de la Roche can accomplish the task, so can we," Simon said as he returned his gaze to the map. Only small circles represented the places where the Inner Hebrides were located. He rolled up the parchment and set it aside. "If this isle is as distinctive as you say, Brianna, we shall have no trouble finding it."

"I agree with Simon," Brianna said. "We must try, no matter the risk."

For once he and Brianna were united in their goal. The thought would have made him smile had the situation not been so serious. "How many men can you spare, Brother Kenneth?"

The abbot sighed. "We are so few now, thanks to de la Roche's attacks." His gaze moved about the table to each of the knights present there. "Brothers Thomas, Jacob, and Alaric are skilled warriors all."

Simon nodded to each man. "We also welcome Benton, Kendall, Iain, and Cameron, Sir Alan's men. With Brianna, Kaden, and myself, that makes ten."

"Don't forget about me," Abigail interrupted. "I might not be a warrior, but I can take care of myself."

Brother Kenneth frowned. "I shall never get used to women in battle."

Simon sent Abigail an apologetic smile. "Like it or not, abbot, it seems to be something you and I cannot object to." He turned his gaze to the abbot once more. "That makes eleven of us."

The abbot frowned. "Eleven against a hundred Frenchmen. It will be Teba all over again."

"Nay." Simon and Brianna said in unison.

Simon closed his eyes as the image of the battlefield filled his mind. His brothers' bodies lay everywhere. So many dead, so many maimed and wounded. Simon opened his eyes, burying the memory deep inside himself. "That will never come to pass again." He crossed himself. "We will find more men to fight with us. By all that is holy, I will never allow that to happen again."

"We will never allow that." Brianna came to stand beside him.

Simon nodded. "Let us be on our way. We have wasted too much time here already." He turned to Kaden. "Take Benton and Kendall and saddle the horses. The rest of us will gather the supplies we need."

The men scattered to do Simon's bidding. Brianna remained where she stood. He could not look at her. He couldn't allow her to see the moment of doubt that had flashed through him.
God's teeth
! For the first time since Teba, he had allowed the slightest bit of fear to sink in.

Nay. They would win this battle. They would rid Scotland of the Scottish Templars' greatest enemy. Then life could return to normal once more. They would journey this day to a place he had not been in a very long time. Perhaps, if he were fortunate, he would find the help he needed.

Simon shook his head, clearing his thoughts and his emotions before he turned to face Brianna. "We should join the others."

Brianna remained still and brought a hand up to his chest as though wanting to console him when she knew from their shared experience that nothing could. His skin warmed beneath her tender touch. For a heartbeat he let the reality slip. There was something unreal about the moment that he longed to hold onto. Something peaceful. Familiar. It awakened a foreign part of himself, a part that desperately craved moments like this in the past, but had never had them, moments when someone cared for him.

"You do not always have to be so strong," she said, her voice a silken caress.

"I am a warrior."

She let out a long breath. "As you reminded me not too long ago, even warriors have weaknesses."

He knew what his weakness was becoming. He put his hand over hers and stared into her eyes, wrapping the peacefulness of the moment around himself. He would need all the serenity he could gather in the days ahead if her dream of his death was what lay ahead for him. "I'll do whatever it takes to win this battle against de la Roche."

"Simon—"

He tore his gaze from hers and twisted toward the door. "We will speak of this no more." He strode from the chamber, leaving her to follow in his wake.

Outside, his men had the horses saddled and waiting. The beasts moved restlessly, their breath pluming in the cold morning air. They prepared to ride out, then waited as Brother Kenneth approached the group.

"Godspeed," the abbot said.

"And may He be with you, Abbot, and those who remain here," Simon said with a respectful tilt of his head.

The abbot blessed them, then sent them on their way. Simon took the lead, while Brianna and Abigail rode side by side, with the men fanned out in twos behind them.

Silence hovered over them as they rode hard throughout the morning, barely stopping until the sun was at its peak. They came to a stop near a rambling stream, allowing the horses to rest.

Simon sat down beneath a tree and let his eyes slide shut. His eyelids had barely settled before he felt someone standing before him. "What is it?"

"When do we eat?" Alaric asked.

Simon cracked one eye open. "Whenever you'd like to."

Food
. Simon's stomach growled on cue. They hadn't eaten anything but oats this morning in their haste to leave. Something hearty would be wonderful. "Are you offering to cook?" Simon opened both eyes to see Alaric and Benton stood before him, frowning.

"Nay, we thought maybe, since she's a girl, that Brianna could cook something for us."

Brianna sat on the ground near the horses. She held her sword in one hand and a sharpening stone in the other. Sharp slicing sounds filled the afternoon air as she ran the stone along the blade. "You want me to cook?"

"We'll start a fire while you cook us something to eat," Benton said hopefully. "We're starving."

Brianna stood and sheathed her sword. "You're not hungry enough to eat my cooking."

"Oh, yes we are," Alaric said, his eyes widened and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. "Anything would be fine. Truly."

Brianna looked to Simon. "Do you expect me to cook just because I'm a female?"

He shrugged, not wanting to get in between Brianna and his men. They had a long way to go on this journey together. They needed to come to terms on their own. "Perhaps just this once, you and Abigail could…"

"Abigail needs to rest." Her gaze strayed to where Abigail lay on a soft patch of grass, her eyes closed, asleep. "You'll have to deal with me." She grunted and turned toward the horses that stood quietly, their heads bowed low to the ground as they munched on grass. "Don't say that I didn't warn you."

Alaric and Benton set a fire and soon orange-yellow flames snapped and hissed in the afternoon light. Brianna had gathered water from a nearby stream to fill the iron pot they carried on the pack horse. He watched her slice chunks of salted pork with her sword and tossed them into the broth.

Plumes of mouth-watering steam rose into the air, and his stomach rumbled loudly. Perhaps this was a good idea. Brianna's cooking might help to make amends to the men who still resented her participating in Templar business.

Simon smiled with satisfaction. One way to a man's heart was definitely through his stomach. He watched as she tossed in a few handfuls of oats, then a handful of onion chunks before she stirred the contents together.

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