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even discovered!”

Lucas shrugged. “In 1434 a map was produced that matches parts of what is now Massachusetts, well before Columbus made his trip. Anyway, the Sinclairs had also received the barony of Roslin and as peace began to become a reality, another

descendent, William, was appointed Hereditary Patron and Protector of Scottish Masons.”

Sara rubbed her forehead. “I’m beginning to get a headache. And the Masons

were Templars?”

“Not directly. But Sinclair was. And the Templars were always and forever

guardians of the Treasure … and especially, the Hallows.”

She groaned a little. For a man who was so powerfully built and virile, Lucas really could wind around a tale like an ancient bard. “Are we actually speaking of the Holy Grail?”

SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 33

“Bear with me. It’s a long story.” As she winced, he lowered her hands and

began tracing small circles on her temples with his thumbs.

She was amazed at how surprisingly gentle his touch was. Not only did the pain slip away, but her shoulders relaxed and the tightness in her neck disappeared. The pain slipped away and the tension in her shoulders disappeared as well. She closed her eyes.

“That’s it,” his voice soothed like warm honey mixed with bourbon. “Let go. I need for you to understand what I’m about to say.”

His fingertips massaged her scalp lightly alleviating the last bit of tension and impatience. She could have stayed cradled in his hands forever. Reluctantly she opened her eyes to find him gazing at her intently.

“Ready to go on?” he asked.

She was more ready to go on then he knew. But he hadn’t meant that. Lucas was all scholarly at the moment. Inwardly, she sighed. “Yes.”

“There had always been a Templar centre at Ballantradoch—Roslin—but with

Master masons at his disposal, William began building a chapel with plans for a grand cathedral to keep the Church happy. Or so it was told.”

Sara knit her eyebrows together. “You’re saying that the cathedral was never

meant to be?”

Lucas shrugged. “Perhaps. But the chapel was built for a definite purpose and it wasn’t particularly Christian.”

She nodded. Any follower of Brighid was aware that Rosslyn Chapel had more

pagan symbols than Christian. There were well over a hundred pictures of the Green Man in the chapel. One couldn’t get much more pagan that the God of Fertility, sometimes known as Cernunnos or the Horned One. And on the Goddess path, all things seek balance. The rose, associated with the Divine Feminine for time beyond Time, was evident everyway, even in the name of the chapel itself.

“I’m familiar with Rosslyn Chapel,” Sara said. “It’s part of the curriculum for a course that I adjunct.”

Lucas sat back and grinned. “You don’t look like a teacher.”

“And what are teachers supposed to look like?”

His grin broadened. “Not like you. But go on.”

Hmmm. If he wanted her version, he was going to get it. She had visited Rosslyn just two years ago. “Well, for one thing, the William Sinclair you speak of has a floriated cross on top of his tombstone with eight points—symbolic of the eight years it takes the morning and evening star, Venus, to complete a cycle. The rose at the center of that cross, along with five-pointed stars and pentacles everywhere, conveys the path she took. Roses are associated with Mary Magdalene. The five petals of the rose also symbolize the five stages of female life. Eros in the Green Man and Venus in Mary Magdalene. The balance of masculine and feminine.”

“I’m impressed,” Lucas said.

For a moment she thought he was being sarcastic. Men often were when she

started talking about the real strength of women, but Lucas looked serious, his amber eyes studying hers.

“Go on,” he urged.

“There are also rumors and speculation,” she said. “That a vault lies beneath the chapel that cannot be accessed … that it contains everything from Solomon’s treasure to SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 34

a manuscript written by Jesus himself. And what it has to say may not be in keeping with Christianity as we know it.”

Lucas smiled. “I think you’ve been reading too many recent bestsellers.”

“Maybe. I said it was speculation. I’m sure it’s good for tourism at any rate.”

She let her eyes slide to the envelope. “But there is another rumor about the Holy Grail being embedded in the Apprentice Pillar.”

“I wish it were so simple,” Lucas answered with a sigh. “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about the wrong people getting a hold of it. William didn’t complete the chapel.

His son, Oliver, did and set sail to Nova Scotia to bring back whatever had been taken there earlier. Perhaps it was the treasure. They wanted the vault to hide something. But the Hallows are no longer there.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Do you know what happened in 1590?”

“That really isn’t my area of expertise,” she said and then thought. “Wait.

Wasn’t there another witch hunt started? This time in Scotland?”

“Aye, Lass. Your knowledge of history is good. There is nothing like mass

hysteria to launch a feeding frenzy. Evil reigned. Women were burned because their husbands found themselves impotent. Children were stoned because they might have eyes of different colors. There was no reasoning with the zealous priests who made a mockery of their own church. It was decided the Hallows must be moved to a place of safety.”

“Nova Scotia?”

“I don’t think so. Or, at least not all of them. It seems they were to be separated, hidden in different parts of the New World. That way, if a Hallow were found, the power would not be compounded four-fold. The document,” Lucas said as he motioned toward the envelope lying on the desk, “basically rambles on about exploration in the New World. And it ends with the words. “Fait accompli. Whatever it was, the mission had been successful.”

“So does the paper offer any clues?”

“Several, but one important one from what I can tell.” He reached over to the desk and picked up his notes. “On every page, there was a line that didn’t quite fit in with the rest of a paragraph. I took them out and put them together.” He handed her the paper.

“Where roses climb to heaven,

ugh’s lance will wait,

Near to the Druid’s tree,

Enter dawn’s gate.”

“Does this mean anything to you?” Sara asked.

“Only that it refers to the spear, obviously.”

Voices sounded in the hall. Sara jumped up and grabbed the envelope, Lucas

right behind her. She stuffed it behind the closest book just as the door opened.

“There you are!” Mr. Smith said cheerfully. “I was wondering where the two of you had gone off to. It’s lunchtime!”

Beside him, Al Caldwell was frowning. Sara took a step away from the bookcase SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 35

and backed solidly into Lucas.

“Steady there,” he said as he put a hand on her shoulder to balance her. With his other arm he reached around her to return a book she hadn’t noticed he taken. For a moment she was engulfed in his embrace and she breathed in the scent of him. His warm breath teased the nape of her neck as leaned into her to give the book a push.

“Stubborn book,” he murmured against her ear, whetting her appetite for

something other than lunch.

Both Mr. Smith and Mr. Caldwell were openly watching them, the visitor with

narrowed eyes. Her boss was smirking.

Sara reluctantly stepped away from Lucas. “Perhaps we can finish this discussion

…” she looked wildly at the title of the book, Le Morte D’Arthur that he had just shelved. Pick a character. Quick! “… about, uh, Lancelot later.”

Lucas’ eyebrow arched. “Lancelot? By all means. I think I may know a few

stories you haven’t heard.”

It wasn’t until later that she wondered what he’d meant by that.

* * * *

“The tracking device is in her purse,” Caldwell said.

“Good. Any problems?”

“Nah. I just was really clumsy and overturned it. ….”

“I mean, have you been able to locate the document?” Sometimes even his best

men seemed daft. Baylor hated not being able to get directly involved himself, but with his eye patch he was too memorable in case of trouble.

“Oh.” Caldwell hesitated. “I haven’t seen it. But Ramsey is here and he spent the entire morning with the girl in the library.”

Baylor growled in frustration. That damn Templar had been a thorn in his side for centuries, fouling up some of his best evil intentions. He often wondered just what gods had created another immortal. In his time, Ramsey had not been on Avalon.

“Do you suppose,” he asked sarcastically, “that they may have been reading the manuscript in there?”

“No doubt,” Caldwell replied somewhat defensively, “but my host—who’s crazy

as a loon if you ask me—stayed with me the whole morning, jabbering on about his stupid swords. I had to actually take notes.”

“Don’t underestimate Mr. Smith,” Baylor said softly. “He’s a wealthy man and didn’t get there by being stupid.”

“No, Sir.” Caldwell said promptly. “I did try to get in the library after lunch, but it was locked. I didn’t think it would be good to pick it.”

Baylor sighed. “And why not? It’s one of the things you do, isn’t it?”

“True. But there’s a copy of the document that may be available.”

“Oh?” Baylor reached for his brandy snifter and swirled the contents and sniffed.

“Where is it?”

“Some old professor named MacDonald has it. I heard the girl mention it when

she cut off Smith. I’ll just put a tail on her when she goes to get it.”

“You do that,” Baylor said, “and soon. If the Templar has already read it, that puts him ahead of us in this race.”

SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 36

“No problem.”

“And one more thing. Make sure the tail cleans up. I hate messes.”

“Understood.”

Baylor hung up the phone and poured another brandy. “This time, I will win,

Templar. I will win.”

* * * *

“He’s in the library, waiting for you.”

The professor’s faded blue eyes were almost glowing. “Sit, dear!” he said

excitedly. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed reading this document. It really is a confirmation of hope. If I never read another important thing, this will have been enough.”

Sara sat down on the sofa near his wheelchair. “So what can you tell me?”

“Well, much of it is written like a travel diary,” the professor began, “but I got the feeling that somehow the writer was trying to encrypt some other message.”

Sara told him about the verse that Lucas had dug out of it. The old man nodded.

“Yes, I noticed that too. But there’s more, I think.”

“More?” She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Lucas alone after lunch since Mr.

Smith had decided to monopolize both of his guests’ time. It had, at least, given her the opportunity to return the manuscript to the safe. “Tell me!”

He patted her hand. “If the Hallows are to be found, there is an order in which to do it. There were other references about ‘first’ seeing something and then ‘proceeding’

and ‘lastly’ finding the Holy Grail.”

She perked up. “It says the ‘Holy Grail’? Lucas hadn’t mentioned that.”

The professor shook his head. “The writer says that he came across a pool in so beautiful a setting it was like finding the Holy Grail of inner peace.” His eyes took on a far-away look. “Odd, that choice of words. Pool. Not ‘lake.’ Not ‘pond.’ The only body of water that I’ve heard called by that name was Dozmary Pool in Cornwall.”

“The pool that Bedwyr threw Excalibur into? What does King Arthur have to do

with this? I thought the Hallows had been brought to America.”

The old man leaned back and plucked at his cardigan, a sure sign he was about to tell a story. Sara always enjoyed listening to him when he did. She sat back and relaxed.

“The Hallows have traveled far. It’s not so strange that Arthur, or at least one of his knights, would be involved in this. We are talking about the Holy Grail, you know.”

“Well, yes,” Sara said. “We all know that Galahad was the only knight pure

enough in heart to receive it.”

“And Galahad went to Sarras after Camlann and from there to Jerusalem. But I

get ahead of myself.”

“Go on.”

“Well, as you know, Arthur owned the Sword of Justice. Galahad’s father,

Lancelot—or the Lancer—wasn’t called that for nothing. He owned the lance, or the Spear of Truth. The cup, of course, was mystically hidden to protect it from unwanted hands.”

“And what about the Dish?”

“Ah, that. It was actually a round plate, you know. When placed in the center of SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 37

a circle, all men who sat around it were equal and there would be peace. It came with the first Scotti settlers from Tara to Pictland. When Arthur defeated Fergus Mor, he brought the dish to Britain and established the Round Table.”

“So all four Hallows were in Arthur’s possession?”

Professor Macdonald nodded. “It was what made him so successful for so many

years. Until Mordred came along.”

“ ‘The evil that men do lives after them’, ” Sara quoted from Shakespeare.

“Ah, yes. And the true Evil One is still among us, I fear. But at least, Mordred was not able to get his hands on any of the Hallows. Galahad took them all to Jerusalem.”