Blades of Valor (11 page)

Katherine closed her eyes briefly. Bitter sadness took her breath away. Hawkwood had written this before leaving with her for England. He had been alive then. Gervaise too. Thomas had yet to betray them both. It had been a time of hope. Now …

“Katherine?” It was Sir William’s voice, gentle and worried.

She forced herself to smile and turned back to the letter. She read with a steadiness she did not feel.

Yet even if England is lost to us, my friend, do not despair. It was no coincidence that we chose to flee to St. Jean d’Acre when Magnus first fell. While it has been commonly believed among us that the reason for retreat to the Holy Land was because of the Crusading knights who might be of service, there is another, more compelling reason—one known only to the leaders of each generation of Immortals. A reason that forced me these last months to travel to the ancient libraries of Europe, and a reason I must pass on to you in this letter, because should I die, the secret must not die with me. If there comes a time that I trust Thomas, he, as you are now, will be directed to the Holy Land.

Again, Katherine stopped. This time, however, she blurted her thoughts. “Hawkwood
did
direct Thomas here after the letter was written! How could he have trusted—”

Sir William placed a finger to his lips. “Still, Hawkwood was not certain, for he did not give Thomas what remains for you to read.”

Katherine accepted the reproval and bowed her head to the letter.

Merlin knew only little of what lies hidden in the Holy Land, for the legend of it began more than three hundred years before his birth, a time when Roman generals ruled Britain.

Even then, the Druids had long been hidden among the people, suppressed by the Roman conquerors of ancient Britain. Yet—as we know too well—the Druids retained considerable power and influence.

A Roman general called Julius Severus, who ruled Britain some hundred years after the death of Christ, discovered the Druid circle but did not expose it. To let Rome know of the Druids would also let Rome know of their wealth and almost magical powers. Instead, Severus plundered the Druids in one fell swoop, taking a great fortune in gold and the book containing their most valued secrets.

Much of the details were lost through the centuries, but what Merlin knew was that Severus was summoned from Britain to quell a revolt—a Jewish revolt in the land of Christ. Severus could not trust his treasure to be left behind, so he arranged to take it with him.

That is all the Druids knew, for they were not seamen and had no way of following Severus and his troops across half the world. That too was all that Merlin knew, all that he could pass to the one he had chosen to lead the next generation of his Immortals.

Yet the Immortal leaders of each new generation were not idle. They anticipated the day that Magnus might fall, and each generation was given the task of adding to our scant knowledge of the stolen Druid wealth and secrets. When the Holy Land opened to the Crusaders, we sent Immortals here to search. I have copied as much as is known in a book that must be matched with this letter.

Katherine stared at Sir William. She remembered how the jailer in Lisbon had returned to Thomas his cloak, his sword, and …

“A book! Thomas carried a book. Remember how I told you Hawkwood spent time with Thomas away from me. Could he have given it to him then?”

Katherine began to read faster, anxious to know the contents of the letter.

My friend, I too have been given the task to add to that knowledge. There has been little to glean, even among the best libraries of our civilization, for history’s facts have too often been lost to legend in this age of darkness. What I know now, however, may be enough after all these hundreds of years of mystery.

In the land of the Franks, I stumbled across a parchment that copied the words of the Roman historian Cassius Dio, who wrote a brief notice of Julius Severus and his war against the Jews. The Romans destroyed nearly a thousand Jewish villages, and a half million were slain. The Jewish rebels were finally defeated in their last refuge—caves in the Judean desert, north of the Dead Sea.

Severus was recalled to Rome almost immediately after his victory in the Holy Land. It would seem unlikely he would take his treasure with him, for discovery of it by Roman officials would mean his death. Shortly after arriving in Rome, he died of sudden illness, taking his secret to the grave.

Yet there remains a peculiar fact noted by Cassius Dio. During one skirmish against the Jews near these caves, General Julius Severus lost twenty men in battle—against a handful of unarmed rebels. These twenty men, Severus reported, died as a portion of the cave collapsed upon them, and their bodies could not be recovered.

Is it not more likely that these twenty men transported the treasure? Wealth that great would take such assistance. Is it not likely that the surest way for Julius Severus to guard his secret would be to bury those twenty in the cave alongside his treasure? I believe so, and upon this now rests our hopes. Look to your friends in Jerusalem for guidance.

Should Magnus be lost to us, and should you be able to recover what was so precious to the Druids, the wealth and their ancient secrets may be used against them upon your return to England.

I pray this letter finds you in good health and that the Lord God shall be with us as we fight His enemies.

Katherine noticed her fingers were trembling as she finished the letter. She looked up to a thoughtful expression on Sir William’s face, and one of eagerness on Lord Baldwin’s.

“I have heard rumors of the Caves of Letters!” Lord Baldwin said quickly. “But I have always discounted them as myth, for stories were told of entire families living for months inside the earth. Yet this letter!”

Sir William pursed his lips. “You will assist us in the search?”

“To my death,” Lord Baldwin said. He fumbled with a wineskin that hung from his belt. “And let us drink to this new hope!”

Sir William found the crude goblets supplied with the room.

Lord Baldwin insisted that Umar and Hadad join them in the toast.

The wine tasted bittersweet to Katherine. But she had only a short time to give it thought, for immediately she became drowsy.

Odd,
she thought,
I was not tired, not with such important news.

Struggle as she might, her lips would not do her bidding, and she could not voice those thoughts to Sir William.

Instead, she sat heavily, then collapsed into a stupor of wild dreams—among them that she had opened her eyes to kiss Thomas. When she woke, she and her companions—save one—were bound and tied with rough hemp rope.

Twenty-Two

F
ools!”

Katherine struggled to sit so that she could see the speaker. It took her several seconds. Even as her mind was on the words, she was conscious of the terrible taste in her mouth, the thickness of her tongue, and the pounding in her head that rivaled the pain of the rope biting her wrists and ankles.

“Ah, she wakes.” The same voice continued. Cruel and taunting.

Katherine, now in an upright position, swung sideways to prop her back against the wall.

The other men—Sir William, Umar, and Hadad—were as securely bound as she. And sitting on the stool before the door was a man she recognized immediately.

Waleran.
The spy who had shared a dungeon with Thomas so long ago, when Katherine had been a visitor disguised in bandages and Thomas an orphan determined to win a kingdom.

“How did you sleep, princess?” Waleran asked.

He was as grotesque as ever. His beady black eyes leered beneath wild brows. Greasy hanks of hair surrounded his bald, scabby crown and fell around ears so large they almost flapped. Katherine felt as though filth and fleas prickled her skin, just looking at him.

She refused to satisfy him with a reaction to his biting words. She merely settled against the wall and waited.

“You can release her. She is not one of us,” Sir William said thickly. “Merely the daughter of a knight. One whom I have pledged safe passage across this land.”

Waleran laughed. A short, harsh, mocking sound.

“Do you play me for as big a fool as you? Did you not assure Lord Baldwin she was to be counted among the Immortals’ leaders? And was I not there in York when she entered the prison to speak to the earl? She has been involved since the beginning.”

In spite of her determination to remain silent, a greater realization brought words to Katherine’s mouth, for in the passing of a heartbeat, she had gained hope that Thomas was not a Druid, and she could not quench her love. “You arranged for Thomas to escape.”

“Are we so clumsy that he could march into a castle and steal from us in broad daylight? The entire matter was prearranged. I heard every word you spoke to the earl. I made certain that all knew Thomas would shortly arrive at the castle.

“Had I known, of course,” Waleran said, “that you were with the old man, I would have had you arrested right there in the prison. It would have saved all the effort of finding a way to ensure Thomas would lead us to you.”

Katherine’s mind flew back to that afternoon in England, and much suddenly became clear. Thomas had been the bait to bring Hawkwood into the open. Waleran had only needed to let Thomas think he had triumphed, and then follow. Thomas had not led the Druid soldiers to the old man; the old man had followed Thomas. The result was the same. Capture the next morning, and the old man’s death.

She spoke her thoughts, now dreading the answer.

“Thomas is not a Druid.”

“Hardly. Were it so, I would not have taken such pains to trace his every step across the world.”

Her heart rose in joy. Then fell in defeat. For Sir William had passed a death sentence on Thomas. Now, unless they escaped, word could not be sent to rescind the order.

“Waleran has been kind enough to explain,” Sir William said to Katherine. “Although if your head pounds like mine, you hardly need to hear the name of the one who did betray us.”

The wine. Lord Baldwin.

“Betrayal!” Waleran threw his head back and laughed. “This is a touching tale of woe. Thomas was waiting for you in Nazareth. Disguised as a beggar. He saw you with your two friends and assumed you had betrayed him.”

“How do you know of this?” Katherine demanded sharply.

“Ahh,” Waleran said, his voice now like rancid oil. “Concern? A concern of love? This knowledge may prove to be of use.”

He steepled his fingers beneath his chin and stared at Katherine. “My dear, it is simple. Lord Baldwin was not away from St. Jean d’Acre as Sir William believed, but nearby. Word of your arrival was immediate, and once he had followed you to the house and witnessed your carefully acted assassination attempt, it was an easy matter for him to anticipate the use of the tunnel, for as an Immortal, he too knew of it. Lord Baldwin then followed you to the caravan. He needed only to bribe the caravan leader to let him travel as a slave. From this position, he stayed with Thomas and later, as he tells me, managed to find a way to earn Thomas’s trust.”

Katherine looked to Sir William. The knight closed his eyes and nodded. “You remember the hints we gave Thomas of a great secret? Lord Baldwin must have deduced from Thomas that our final destination was Jerusalem. As one of the forsaken Crusaders, Lord Baldwin, of course, knew of the safe house here in Jericho.”

Waleran responded to the pointed finger of Sir William. “Through Lord Baldwin and messengers, I have been informed of every single step Thomas took. Child’s play, to anticipate your arrival here and arrange for the drugged wine. And what an unexpected and superb catch, that Lord Baldwin might also take possession of the letter you so stupidly revealed last night.”

“And now?” Katherine asked. “Where is Thomas now?”

Waleran shook his head in mock disgust. “Such fools. Can you not see the obvious?”

Katherine kept her gaze steady.

“Lord Baldwin has returned to Thomas. He will convince him that he is Thomas’s father.

“You see, my child, because of your blunder last night, we now know of the caves and the treasure. Lord Baldwin will lead Thomas there as further proof that he is not a Druid. With that trust established, they will return to England. And Thomas will finally give us what we seek there. With our treasure restored, and with the final key to our plan, our victory will be complete.”

The smile fixed upon his waxen face like a death mask.

“Once triumph is assured, three things will happen: You and the knight will die, for there will no longer be a reason to hold you as hostage.”

Two more heartbeats passed before Waleran spoke again.

“Thomas too shall die. And England will be ours.”

Twenty-Three

D
id a local princess enchant you?” Lord Baldwin asked Thomas. “I feared you might never return from the market.”

Thomas shook his head no.
How could I be enchanted, when the scent and vision of Katherine fills my heart and dreams by day or night?

Despite his thoughts, Thomas returned Lord Baldwin’s smile. There was no need to burden another man with his own grief.

“Not a princess. Merely sweets to sustain us on our journey.” Thomas held up a small square wrapped in cloth. “Combs of honey. For if we depart Jericho today, I would not refuse small comforts along our journey.”

Thomas grinned wryly at the small room around them. “Not that this is the height of princely luxury.”