To Tempt a Knight (22 page)

She wrapped herself in the linen, then pulled the cloak around her shoulders while she watched William dress. Marriage? She had never considered such a thing until her father had brought up the subject just a few days ago. Her existence had always been devoted to helping him.

Her father.

Pain centered in her chest at the thought of what he’d
suffered since he’d been abducted. “William, do you think my father is still alive? After what de la Roche did to us in only one afternoon…” Her words died off.

“Your father is a strong man.”

“He’s been gone for days.”

Again the vulnerability she’d seen earlier emerged from the tough exterior he tried to present to the world. An answering ache awoke within her, and she moved to his side.

“The men are assembling. We’ll ride out as soon as we are able,
ma chère.
Have faith that all is well.”

Faith.

She had faith in William, and in the troops he would mass. But she also knew from her own experience that de la Roche would do anything he could to get what he wanted from her father. What had he divulged already under the torture he no doubt had suffered?

Faith. She had to have faith.

Upon their return from the cottage, Simon met Siobhan and William at the monastery gate. He held an amber-colored gown, a linen shift and a pair of boots. When the two of them approached, Simon assisted Siobhan down from the horse, then handed her the garments. “For you, milady.”

“My thanks,” Siobhan said. A flash of eagerness filled her eyes.

William dismounted. “Go change,” he encouraged her.

She darted into the monastery, no doubt eager to shed her makeshift garment for something more acceptable.

“What brings you out here? It is unlike you to play the greeter.”

“Templars are coming from Wales, Ireland, the Isles to join your forces.”

William nodded. “That is good news.”

Simon’s features remained pensive.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“De la Roche must have anticipated that the men would come to you, because our scouts report his troops are everywhere. They’re arresting men before they can reach us,” Simon said tightly.

“How many men do we have?”

“No more than forty-five.”

“Damnation! So few?” William snapped. “But we must go. We’ll prepare to leave with what we have.”

“De la Roche has the Spear,” Simon countered. “Does that not mean anything to you?”

“It means everything to me. It’s why we cannot risk staying here and doing nothing.”

“’Tis suicide. And you know it.”

William narrowed his eyes. “No man is all-powerful, not even with the Spear.”

“But the legends—”

“Say that the bearer of the Spear can conquer all. But now that I’ve actually held it in my own hands, I believe the Spear reacts to the person who possesses it. It is a neutral force until it picks up the character of its bearer—whether good or bad.”

“De la Roche will use the weapon for ill.”

“Against us, first, before he ventures anywhere else. ’Tis up to us to take the weapon away from him.”

“Much easier said than done.”

William nodded. “Nothing that we have ever done together, Simon, has been easy. Yet we prevailed.”

“What then?” Simon asked. “Will we hide the Spear once more?”

“Nay, the Spear’s place is in the world, not hidden away. We will see the Spear into the hands of good people who will use the weapon for good causes.” William placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “We have always fought for what was right.”

Simon straightened. “And we will continue to do that.” William patted Simon’s shoulder, then drew his hand back and put it on the hilt of his sword. “Aye. The Brotherhood will preserve justice and protect the innocent.” He offered his other hand to Simon in a salute often used by the Templars to show affection and respect.

The two shook hands just as Siobhan returned. She strode toward them. She moved with grace, her shoulders back, her spine straight. Elegant yet strong. She stopped before Simon. “Thank you for the gown. It’s the finest garment I’ve ever worn.”

William took in the sight of her. The unadorned and simply cut velvet gown the monks had found for her in the village was a rich amber shade. The sleeves hugged her arms from shoulder to wrist. Her gown was straight and graceful, falling from the low, square neckline of the bodice, which revealed the soft swell of her breasts and the long line of her throat against the rich fabric. Her hair fell in loose waves across her shoulders. Beneath the fading light of day, her tresses shimmered like fiery gold. “You are a vision.”

She dropped her gaze and curtsied, but not before he saw the pleased little smile that tugged at her mouth. Hope blossomed inside him. She wasn’t entirely impervious to his charms.

“When do we leave?” she asked.

“As soon as the men can gather.” He reached for her hand. “Would you not rather stay behind, where it is safe?”

“No,” she said with determination. “I’m as much a part of this as you are. I need to see it through.”

“Aye, you are.” William squeezed her hand before releasing it. “May we find only success in the trials that lie ahead.”

“We are united in purpose and spirit,” Simon said.

“To the end,” Siobhan added.

Gooseflesh pebbled William’s skin at the eeriness of their chosen words. Similar words had been spoken by the Brotherhood on the eve of the Battle of Teba.

No such disaster would befall them at Stonehyve Castle. William closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.

The massacre could not happen again.

Fate would never be so cruel twice.

Twenty-five men managed to make it past de la Roche’s patrols and joined the twenty already at the monastery. As soon as the men arrived, William and Siobhan rode out.

What their small army lacked in number, they made up for in strength. The air fairly crackled with hope and a renewal of spirit that William hadn’t seen in these men for years. The Templars might be disbanded, but they were not destroyed.

The mists were reluctant to leave the coves and the inlets near the shore as the men, some on horseback, others on foot, followed William’s lead. Once, as they approached Stonehyve lands, he glimpsed the distant silhouette of the battlements. His home. A home he’d been forced to leave. And one he was willing to attack to bring peace back to the Brotherhood.

They reached the inlet below the castle just as the sun dipped low against the blue-black Cairngorm Mountains. “We’ll make camp here for the night,” William announced, reining in his horse. He wanted the men rested and well fed before they made their attack in the morning.

The men set up camp at the edge of the inlet, where they couldn’t be seen by the castle towers. It wasn’t long before watch fires bloomed against the gray of dusk that cast Stonehyve Castle in shades of angry, unyielding black.

When the campsite had been settled, the men gathered near the fires, eating bowls of a hearty rabbit stew they had brought with them. William stood near his own fire, staring not into the flames, but at the sky. The moon perched heavy and full over the mountain peaks. Stars hung suspended by the millions, but the light they
shed did little to alleviate the growing tension that stirred within his chest.

“You look as far away from here as those stars,” Siobhan said, coming to stand beside him.

“I feel far away.” His attention shifted to her and he felt a sudden calm come over him. Curious that on the eve of battle, he would find comfort in anything, let alone the woman whose very presence usually distracted him.

“Are you worried about the morrow?”

He shook his head. “Just thinking about how we’ll force our way inside.” His eyebrows came down in thought. “I’ve been trying to remember if there are ways to enter the castle other than through the front gate. With our limited numbers, it would be wiser to pursue a less direct approach.”

Simon came to sit beside William. “I’ve been giving that some thought as well.” A sudden hush went out over the camp as every ear turned to their conversation.

“Gather round, men,” William called out. If they were to put their lives on the line tomorrow, they deserved some say in their plan of attack.

They abandoned their campsites to huddle around where William stood. Momentarily his breath quickened as he thought back to the last time he had gathered around a fire with other Templars. It was the last time he had seen some of his brothers alive.

Simon caught William’s gaze across the fire. “We are on our homeland, the land of our ancestors, of our fellow Templars,” he said, knowing as he always did where William’s thoughts had gone.

William looked at the faces of the men gathered round. In their gazes he saw confidence, and no fear. He shook off his memories of the past and focused on the here and now. “Our enemy rises before us like a hissing serpent, which we must either capture or remove from this world
if we are to protect our brothers, as well as our countrymen.”

“How will we do it?” one of the men opposite William asked.

Red-orange flames licked greedily at the wood in the fire, casting all who gathered in a warm, golden glow. “I was hoping to avoid a direct attack. Our numbers would be better used in some sort of ploy.”

“Can we enter through the moat and into the drainage system beneath the castle?” Lucius asked.

“And then enter through the garderobe?” another man beside him countered. A general roar of disgust followed the suggestion.

“Is there a sally port somewhere along the castle walls?” Simon asked. “We could use a crossbow to send up a rope. With luck it will anchor in the wall, and we can pull ourselves up the side.”

“Without being seen?” Robert Tam asked. “Too risky. We will be too visible.”

“Perhaps we could try that approach at night?” another man suggested.

One of the monks from the monastery stood. “We have everything we need here in the nearby woods to build a trebuchet. With that we could break through the outer walls.”

Simon shook his head. “We don’t have time to build a trebuchet. Besides, as soon as they see us building such a weapon, they will charge us. If our scouting parties are correct, de la Roche’s men outnumber us ten to one.”

“A Trojan horse.” A female voice cut through all the others.

When silence fell, Siobhan repeated, “What we need is a Trojan horse, the ploy used by the Greeks to enter the city of Troy.”

“If we don’t have time to build a trebuchet, why would we have time to build that?”

“We don’t need to build anything.” Siobhan stood and moved away from the fire to where William had left his saddlebag. She returned a moment later with the leather casing and scroll in her hands. “I shall be the Trojan horse.”

Murmurs arose from the men. William silenced them with his hand, even though the very idea made him more than a little uneasy. “Let her continue.”

“You’ll all hide against the castle wall or in places where you cannot be seen by the sentries during the night. At first light, I’ll approach the gates and demand to see de la Roche, saying I’m ready to trade knowledge of the Templar treasure for my father.”

Siobhan pulled the scroll to her chest. “From what I’ve seen of de la Roche’s hunger for the treasure, he’ll not refuse. He’ll order the gates be opened, and then you’ll attack.”

“Nay,” William said with force. “Too many things can go wrong. I’ll not put you in danger like that again.”

“I’m putting myself in danger.” Siobhan’s tone was suddenly fierce. “I may not be able to fight like a Templar Knight, but I’m strong enough to do this one thing.”

William softened his voice. “I know you’re strong, Siobhan.”

“Then let me do this.”

“It might work,” Simon acknowledged from his seat nearby. “We could hide in trenches alongside the drawbridge. As soon as the gate is open, we could attack.” His eyes brightened. “It just might work.”

“How do we dig trenches under the light of a full moon without the guards seeing us?” William asked, still adamantly opposed to risking Siobhan’s safety.

“You leave that to us,” the Dunn brothers chimed in.
“We are quite adept at distracting the nightwatch. You could dig a tunnel, and they’ll never suspect a thing when we get going.”

“Is this a plan we can agree to?” Lucius asked the others.

A hearty cheer of “Aye” rose from the men. Siobhan met William’s gaze. “You’re always asking me to trust you. For once, please trust me on this. It will work to get you all inside the fortress.”

William inclined his head. The men had already decided her plan was a good one. He could say nothing to counter that argument. But there was no reason he couldn’t go to extraordinary means to keep her safe regardless. In keeping with that notion, he moved back to his saddlebag and reemerged with the sword he had taken with him from the Templar treasure room.

He handed the sheathed blade to Siobhan. “Take this. Promise me you’ll wear it as we proceed with this plan.”

Her eyes glittered as she accepted the weapon with her free hand. “Excalibur?” She offered him a brilliant smile that alleviated some of the unease in his chest. “Thank you.”

“For when I cannot be near to protect you.”

She brought the legendary weapon to her chest. “I’ll treasure it always.”

Trea sure. Their journey began with treasure. It seemed only fitting it should end with treasure as well.

“To our success.” William unsheathed his sword and raised it in salute to his comrades.

Every weapon joined his in salute. “To success,” the others chanted as one.

Siobhan rose before dawn. William had encouraged her to rest while everyone else worked through the night. The others were now gone, set in their places. Before begin
ning her part of the plan, she knelt upon the ground of the campsite. She listened to the sound of her heartbeat, feeling her breath, letting her courage flow through her.

She reflected on the past ten days she’d spent with William. So much had changed in her life, in herself, during that time. Despair no longer settled inside her, making her doubt her decisions. She no longer feared the unknown, for the unknown made life an adventure. Every day could be filled with excitement and joy if she just left her heart and mind open to the possibility, and if she believed she was strong enough to handle whatever came her way.

Like today. She had told William she was strong enough to go up against de la Roche on her own. She rose. She was that strong and more. Siobhan retrieved Excalibur and secured its scabbard about her waist.

Dawn approached. Siobhan could see the first shimmer of light through the hazy clouds above. Picking up the scroll, she made her way up the long path to the castle.

The castle was strangely quiet as she walked down the broad approach. There were no signs of William or the others as she stood at the edge of the moat that separated the pathway from the castle gate. She and William had shared their parting words earlier. He’d wished her success after he’d given her multiple tips on how to keep herself safe. She smiled at the memory.

William cared for her, whether he had expressed it in words or not. She knew he did; his every action told her so.

She stopped at the edge of the deep moat. It was time to begin. She straightened her shoulders. “Greetings,” she called out.