Amanda Scott (41 page)

Hugo set the torch in a holder and leaned against the wall opposite her. He would have liked to sit beside her, but he knew he’d be wiser to maintain some distance, lest she say something that stirred him to beat her or kiss her. God knew that in the past half hour he had yet again been sorely tempted to do both.

Hands clasped around bent knees, she gazed solemnly up at him.

“Have you heard aught before about the Knights Templar?” he asked her.

She frowned. “I’m not sure. They were characters in stories Aunt Euphemia told us about Crusaders when I was a child. But I don’t know much about them.”

“The Order started during the Crusades,” he said. “If you like, I can relate more of its history another time, but near the beginning of this century, the Pope declared all its members heretics. When King Philip IV of France tried to arrest the Templars in his country, many of them fled here to Scotland, to the Isles.”

“What has that to do with the ceremony tonight?”

“The men who came here dispersed,” he said. “Some helped the Bruce win at Bannockburn. Others went to ground, seeking safety in new lives. But they did not forget the Order. Originally, all Knights Templar swore a vow of chastity, but those who came here realized that to continue serving the Order and those it served, they had to set that vow aside. Otherwise, in a land most of them did not know, recruiting new members they could trust as implicitly as they trusted each other would be impossible. Then, when the living ones all died, the Order would die with them.”

She nodded. “But family is family. So if they could father and train children, and educate them from birth, the Order might survive.”

“Aye,” he said. “Those early Templars made that decision before they scattered, and each swore an oath to keep the Order secret and pass on its signs only to their sons. But the Kirk still sought to find and kill them. Years passed before they felt safe enough to meet, and by then most had lost track of one another.”

“But you found them.”

“Some of them,” he said. “Some months ago, we learned who most of those early ones were, and we managed to identify some of their descendants. The men you saw here tonight are leaders amongst those active descendants.”

“My father?”

“Aye, your great-grandfather was a Knight of the Temple.”

“But the Crusades are long over,” she said. “What service do Templars perform now that they must still act in such secrecy?”

Hugo had not been able to decide how much to tell her, but as he met her steady, intelligent gaze, the decision made itself. He trusted her as he trusted himself, because she made decisions the way he did. She would do what she believed right and defy the consequences, but her sense of honor was as strong as his own. So the only secrets he could not tell her were the very few he had sworn unequivocally to take to his grave. It was as plain and as simple as that.

“The Templars were the world’s bankers,” he said. “Their Paris treasury was immense, containing gold, silver, jewelry, sacred relics, and other valuable items of every description. King Philip IV manipulated the Order’s downfall with the aid of Pope Clement. On Friday the thirteenth of October, 1307, Philip ordered his men to arrest the Templars and seize their treasury.”

“Friday the thirteenth?” Her eyes widened. “Is that why Father believes that day is unlucky?”

“Aye,” he said. “ ’Twas a dreadful day, because the
men Philip captured—and there were many—suffered the worst the Inquisition offered. Many died or committed suicide as a result. But those whom Philip failed to capture vanished, and the Templars’ enormous Paris treasury vanished with them.”

“So it came here, too, with them?”

“Aye, first to the Isles,” he said.

“Where is it now?”

“That I cannot tell you,” Hugo said. “At least a portion of it was hidden here at one time. I also know that the hills hereabouts contain other caves, including one the great Wallace hid in at one time, and another where the Bruce supposedly hid. But, thankfully, I am not burdened with knowledge of the treasure’s present location.”

He waited for her to ask the obvious: Who did know? But instead, she said, “That treasure is what Waldron seeks then, but why does he believe it should belong to the Vatican?”

“Because, according to the Kirk, the Templars served as the Pope’s army. But Templars serve God, not His Holiness.”

“
Were
they heretics, those early ones?”

“Nay, they just controlled too much money to suit Philip. He owed them a vast sum, you see, and he did not want to pay it. He was not the only such debtor, either. By then, the Order’s wealth had grown for nearly two centuries. The Knights lent huge sums of money to many heads of state.”

“But if they lent most of it out—”

“They still had plenty left,” he said. “Moreover, the
services they provided continually added to their wealth. Their treasury must have been enormous.”

“Do you mean to say you don’t know how enormous?”

“I do not,” he said. “I don’t even know that all of it came to Scotland. Portions of it may well have gone elsewhere.”

“But why come here at all? Were there not other havens closer to Paris?”

“The Templars were safe here because the previous year the Pope had excommunicated Robert the Bruce. So Bruce paid no attention to the order to arrest them if, as an excommunicate, he even received it. He valued Templar military skills and let it be known that any Templar seeking sanctuary could find it in Scotland.”

“Mayhap the men who came here divided the treasury amongst themselves.”

He shook his head. “Their leaders hid it, and I think it stayed in the Isles for a long time because Edward of England controlled all Scotland south of Edinburgh then. Eventually someone did move it, but by then most of those who knew of its existence had died. And apparently the men who moved it died without passing on their knowledge, so it lay hidden again for years.”

“Hidden here.”

“Aye, some of it, at least. And now Henry looks to use the cavern for our council meetings if it remains safe for him to do so.”

“But the men I saw tonight did not enter it through the castle.”

“There are other entrances,” he said. As he spoke, a thought struck him and then the glimmering of an idea. He said, “There was only one entrance at first, but it
resembled a well rather than anything more useful. Only heaven knows how the man who found the place did so, so we decided to create something more practical.”

“Where is the original entrance?”

“Buried,” Hugo said. “Too many folks knew of it. All are loyal to the Sinclairs, but we decided to make a change. I am not going to try to describe for you where the others are, either,” he added with a smile. “Perhaps one day I’ll show you, although the less attention they receive, the better.”

“How many people know about the one from the castle?”

“To my knowledge, only Michael, Henry, you, and I do, but it is possible that Isobel does. You must not speak of this with her, though. Not only do I not know how much she knows, but to discuss the Order with anyone other than me, or in any place less private than this tunnel, would be to invite trouble for all of us.”

“I won’t,” she said.

“I believe you mean that,” he said. “You need to understand what such a promise means, though, because not only am I trusting you but Henry is, too, and revealing the smallest detail of what you’ve learned tonight to the wrong person could lead to disaster. Therefore you must learn to avoid certain topics altogether.”

“Not speak of the treasure at all, you mean. But that is easy, since no one knows even to ask about it.” She frowned. “But you mean things like the cavern and the council, as well.”

“Aye,” he said. “But secrets connect to things that seem not to be secret at all, so you must train yourself to avoid topics that may lead to the dangerous ones.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Even to let slip that you saw your father tonight could stir trouble,” he said. “If someone should mention the cask room, you’d be wise not to show that you know what he is talking about. Keeping secrets is difficult, lass. That is why I told Henry what you had done. He is my liege lord, and if you let something slip, I will have to bear the responsibility just as I do for your being here tonight.”

“But you could not have known I would follow you!”

“I brought you to Roslin,” he said simply. “I stirred your curiosity.”

“Sakes, if they fear discovery so much, I’m surprised Henry did not just order you to murder me and then hang you for it,” she said.

“They trust me, lass, and I trust you. I know you won’t fail me.”

Sorcha’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she thought she would cry. He had been so angry with her, and yet he believed he could trust her. And he could; he certainly could, because she would die rather than betray him. But there was one detail she feared he might not have considered.

“I cannot fail Adela either,” she said, forcing the words out. “How can you be sure I would not reveal your secrets to Waldron to save her?”

His expression did not change. He said simply, “Because you are wise enough to know that if you did tell him, he’d have no further use for either of you. He would kill you both. However, since you mention that
possibility and since I’m not particularly keen on marrying her, I may have to think again about allowing you to meet her at the peel tower tomorrow.”

“Sakes, you’ve already said you won’t do it.”

“Aye, well, I’ve been reconsidering that. But whether I allow it or not, it is past time to go back to the castle.”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to tell if he was just teasing her, not wanting to reveal her eagerness if he was. On the other hand, Hugo rarely made statements he did not mean, even when he did tease her.

He reached out a hand to her. When she took it, it wrapped warmly around hers as he helped her to her feet, and he retained his grip as he looked into her eyes.

She gazed solemnly back at him, willing him to say that he would let her meet Adela and bring her back to Roslin.

“If I do allow it,” he said, reading her thoughts again, “I cannot go with you. They expect to see me at Edgelaw, and Waldron will expect to do any negotiating he does there with me. Nor can I provide you with a large escort. Not only do they command you to go alone but nearly every man I have will go with me or remain at his post to guard the glen and Roslin. But I do have one I can send with you. No watcher will see him, and we must assume that Waldron will send watchers.”

“But if you fear that they mean to capture me—”

“We’ll see that they don’t.”

There was more. She knew it. “You have a plan.”

“Aye, I do. Waldron is too dangerous to leave there. He threatens all of us.”

She grimaced. “So to you, as to him, I shall be just the bait.”

“You know better than that.”

“Do I? I know you wish you had not promised to marry Adela. I know the countess says you flirt with every woman you meet. What more should I know?”

He looked at her, and suddenly she was far more aware of the energy crackling from him than she had been just a moment before. She was aware, too, that she trod on dangerous ground.

“W-we had better go now,” she said.

“Aye,” he agreed. Taking the torch from its holder, he turned back to the door into the cavern and took an unlit one from the holder there. Lighting it from the one he held, he extinguished the latter.

As they walked, she said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

She thought he chuckled, but clearly her mind was addled.

He said, “I’m curious to know just why you are apologizing.”

She sighed. “I’m sure you must be, because I’ve done so many things to vex you. I was apologizing for starting all of this.”

“Do you wish you hadn’t?”

She started to say that of course she did, but the words stopped on her tongue. If she hadn’t sent the messages, she might never have met him. She certainly would not be walking now with his arm so comfortably around her.

Still, her conscience pricked her. “I cannot say I wish that, but poor Adela! I hope she never learns that only your sense of honor compels you to offer for her.”

“I am not feeling at all honorable right now,” he said.

“Why not? You’ve done naught that is
dis
honorable.”

“Perhaps not, but I’m about to,” he said gruffly. The
arm around her shoulders tightened, turning her toward him as he reached to set the torch in a holder. His free hand caught her chin, and his mouth came down hard on hers.

He was angry again. She could feel it in every line of his body. His arm held her tight, and the hand at her chin shifted to cup the back of her head as if he feared she would try to pull away. She melted against him instead, pressing her body against his, and parting her lips willingly when his tongue moved across them. He thrust it inside, moaning softly when she moved her own tongue to taste it, then to tease it. It felt natural to do that, as if she had done such things with him always.

The hand that held her so tightly moved down her back, pressing her against his hips. She could feel his lust.