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Authors: Gerri Russell

BOOK: Seducing the Knight
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Jessamine went still. Her gaze became fixed on the letter in her hands.

“What is it?”

She didn’t answer for a moment. “The wax seal…” Her words trailed off.

He positioned himself beside her, gazing at the seal, seeing nothing but a stamped red mass.

“Do you not see it?” Her voice was a tense whisper. “This symbol in the wax. I remember seeing the same exact symbol on the facade of the treasury yesterday.”

He studied the red mass more closely. Still seeing nothing, he gently lifted it from her hands and raised the seal into the light. The symbol of an eagle stood out—an eagle with a fiery orb hovering over its head.

“You saw this symbol? Where?”

“When that horrible sound came out of nowhere, I looked toward the sky, but my gaze was pulled instead to the image of an eagle at the top right-hand corner of the treasury’s carved roof.” Determination shone in her dark eyes. “There’s an eagle there with a fiery orb over its head.”

He felt his breath catch. “Are you certain?”

She got to her feet and stepped off the blanket. “Only one way to find out.”

Could this be the clue they were searching for? The key that would lead them to the ark? Eagerness and excitement soared through him as he gained his feet and held his hand out to Jessamine. “Let’s go find out.”

Chapter Twelve

Jessamine and Alan hurried toward the stone edifice of the treasury. Morning light broke across the land at that moment, painting the city of stone in hues of pink and red. At the rock facade of the treasury they came to a stop.

“Are you as excited as I am?” Alan asked as he set the saddlebag onto the ground at his feet.

She nodded breathlessly as she dabbed at the perspiration dotting her brow. Morning had just come over the land, and already the temperature soared.

Alan tipped his head back, staring up at the mammoth two-level, carved structure standing over one hundred twenty feet high. Jessamine did the same and smiled. Even the height couldn’t hide the image of an eagle perched at the right side of the roofline. Carved into the rock behind the eagle was a fiery orb that matched the symbol on the wax seal.

“I need to get up there and see if there is any kind of clue as to where we should look next,” Alan said.

“Truly?” Jessamine gasped. “The roofline is twenty times your height at least.”

“We’ve come this far.” He faced her and removed his belt, sword, and the pouch containing the stones of fire, placing them gently into her hands. “Trust me.”

“I do trust you.” She returned her gaze to the eagle. “What if you get up there and you can’t read the clue?
It could be written in Arabic, Aramaic, Hebrew, Latin…”

“I can read Latin, but you have a point.”

He rifled through his saddlebag until he pulled out the book he’d shown the night before. He pulled out two blank pages, then replaced the book in his bag and stood. He stepped away to search the ground, then picked up a reddish rock. “There,” he said with a note of satisfaction. “If I can’t read the clue, I’ll make a rubbing. Then we will put your linguistic talents to the test.”

Before she could comment, he turned away and strode toward the farthest column to the right of the treasury’s entrance. Despite the heat, a chill prickled her flesh. If anything happened to him…

No. He would be fine. If the clue truly was behind the statue of the eagle, then someone had placed it there, proving the wall could be climbed.

She grasped the thought like a lifeline as Alan shinnied halfway up the column, then swung himself to the rock face beside the temple. He reached with his hands and his legs for something…and she saw what she hadn’t noticed before. Vertical footholds had been cut into the rock, most likely to help the sculptors who’d carved the edifice. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Alan shifted himself fully over to the footholds, climbing slowly higher and higher. Jessamine bit down on her lip as she watched each stretch and extension of his powerful arms and legs. His body was finely honed, no doubt from his life as a warrior. In no time at all, he reached the slanted rooftop and stepped onto it. He moved behind the statue of the eagle. He remained partially concealed behind the statue for what seemed like ages before he emerged and started the painstaking journey down again.

Jessamine moved close to the last pillar, staring up at
him as he descended. Dust rained down upon her, but she ignored it. She wanted to be close in case…She couldn’t finish the thought.

With each step downward, her tension mounted as he struggled for the next foothold. She clenched her fists, as though doing so would help him find purchase on the wall.

Alan’s foot slipped. Loose mortar gave way beneath his leather boots, dislodging a stone that tumbled to the ground. Jessamine held her breath as he clung to the wall, regained his foothold, and kept moving downward.

A wave of relief washed over her when he finally regained the ground with a grunt, covered in golden dust. She reached out and pulled him to her, wrapped her arms around him, and held him close.

“You’re trembling,” he said, breathing hard. He rested his cheek against her hair and comforted her, despite the fact that it was he who had risked his life climbing the facade.

“I can’t seem to stop.” Jessamine drew a ragged breath. “What did you discover?”

He pulled the two loose pages from within his left boot. “I was hoping you could interpret the symbols etched into the stone below the fiery orb. There were two of them.” He unfolded one paper, then bent to the ground and set the pages side by side at her feet. “What does it say?”

Jessamine kneeled beside him. “The symbols are Hebrew.” She concentrated on the darker areas of red that had been made when Alan rubbed the red rock over the wall with the paper in between. “The first word is
mountain.
The second word is
God.

“Mountain God,” he put the two words together.

Jessamine nodded. “The next clue is located at the
Mountain of God.” She met his gaze. “Have you heard of such a place?”

He traced a finger over the rubbings he had made. “The Old Testament refers to the Mountain of God by two different names: Mount Sinai and Mount Horeb.”

“Why two?”

“That’s something of a mystery. But it may have been because, like God himself, the mountain was too sacred to call by name. However,” he continued, “the Bible also leaves no doubt that these two names were for the same mountain.”

Alan stood and moved back to his saddlebag, removing his book again. He flipped page after page, until a smile came over his lips at one of the pages. “Here it is.” He turned back to her and thumped his finger on the page. “I wrote down all the passages in the Bible that had anything to do with the ark. It was a labor that took nearly a year, but I knew it would help when the search began.”

He returned his gaze to the page. “Here in the book of Kings it says quite specifically that Horeb is the Mountain of God.”

“Does the Bible say specifically where Horeb is located?”

He laughed. “Nay, it wouldn’t be so easy as that. But there are two incidents that occurred on the Mountain of God that might tell us where to look.” He flipped several more pages.

She came to stand beside him and looked down at the bold handwriting in which he’d painstakingly recorded the words
logic
and
strategy.
She hid the smile that crept to her lips. Alan knew his strengths, and he played to them well.

“In the book of Exodus there is this passage that concerns Moses and the burning bush: After Moses was
forced into exile from Egypt, he settled in the land of Midian, where he married the daughter of a local priest called Jethro. Some years later, Moses was tending his father-in-law’s flock when he was confronted by a bush that burned without being consumed. It was from within this miraculous fire that Moses first heard the voice of God. This event took place at the ‘backside of the desert.’ In biblical times this area would have been called Edom.”

He flipped several more pages. “The second clue to the location of the Mountain of God can be found after Moses went back to Egypt and led the Children of Israel to freedom. He returned with them to Horeb to commune with God on the sacred mountain. By the time they arrived, the Children of Israel had run out of water and were dying of thirst. Moses saved them with a miracle when he smote the rock and water came out of it.”

Excitement radiated from him, and Jessamine couldn’t help being caught up in it.

“The pieces fit.” Alan’s gaze met hers. “Edom was a small kingdom in the northwest of the Sinai. We are but a day’s journey from the mountain of which the Bible speaks.”

“Then let’s be on our way,” Jessamine said.

Reluctance entered his gaze as he continued to study her. “I must warn you, the area we travel to next is one of the least hospitable in the Sinai wilderness. The Shara Mountains are an arid wasteland, and the Valley of Edom is but a small, fertile vale nestled within those barren peaks. As we travel, it will be scorching during the day and freezing at night. Are you accustomed to such travel? If not, I will ask whether the Bedouins would keep you with them until—”

“We are in this together, until the end,” she interrupted.
“I’m not afraid of the rugged, barren terrain, or the temperatures.”

Pride entered his eyes for a moment before he turned his gaze to his book. He closed the pages slowly, then replaced the small volume in his saddlebag. “One of the mountains that encircle the Valley of Edom is the mysterious Mountain of God.” Alan retrieved his belt, sword, and leather pouch and reattached them at his waist. “The Valley of Edom awaits.” He held his hand out to her.

“The Valley of Moses?” A familiar voice spoke from behind them.

Jessamine started and turned to see the white-haired old man they’d met yesterday. Where had he come from? She’d heard no footsteps. No movement of his cane in the sand.

“The Bedouins call the valley by that name,” the old man continued.

“Why?” Alan asked.

The old man shuffled forward. “There is a freshwater spring there that never runs dry. Ain Musa, or the Spring of Moses, as the Bedouins refer to it.”

“Do they call any of the mountains Mount Sinai? Or Horeb? Are there any traditions associated with either of those names?” Alan leaned toward the old man.

He pursed his lips in thought a moment, then shook his head.

“Do you know where this miraculous spring is located?” Alan asked tentatively.

The old man’s features cleared. His eyes brightened. “You’ll find the Spring of Moses at the summit of Jebel Madhbah as the Bedouins call it, or Mountain of the Altar.”

Alan’s gaze filled with suspicion as it shot to hers, then back to the old man. “You know a lot about this area.”

“I’ve lived here most of my life. Longer than you can imagine,” he added softly.

Jessamine studied the old man. He seemed as harmless today as he had yesterday. Yet a flicker of unease passed through her. He inclined his head at her, almost imperceptibly, as though he could read her thoughts and was trying to reassure her.

“What is your name?” she asked, realizing that they’d not been introduced last night.

“You may call me Will,” he answered before turning to Alan. “Would you like me to guide you to Jebel Madhbah? I’m familiar with the desert. I’d see you safely to that mountain.”

Alan’s brow creased as he, too, studied the man. “We appreciate the offer—”

“Did I not assist you last night?” the old man asked.

“Aye.” Alan replied, frowning. “As much as we would appreciate a guide, the journey is dangerous. We cannot—”

“Don’t judge me by my appearance, son.” Will’s face remained calm, but an edge crept into his voice. “With the aid of a horse, I can go anywhere in this desert.”

“We have but one horse,” Jessamine replied.

“Allow me.” The old man whistled, the sound shrill in the still morning air. As the sound died away, hoofbeats echoed through the ancient streets of Petra. A moment later, two dark horses galloped toward them, saddled and ready for riding. “The Bedouins are my friends. They provide me with what I need, when I need it.”

The horses came to a stop before Jessamine and tossed their heads, as though eager to be underway.

Alan turned to her. “Can you ride by yourself?”

“I’m quite capable.”

“Then it’s settled,” Alan said. A short while later, he
fastened his saddlebag to the saddle and remounted his horse.

Jessamine could feel excitement tighten her chest as she kicked her horse into a gallop, following Alan and their guide. They’d figured out another key piece of the puzzle. They were one step closer to finding the ark.

The thought stayed with Jessamine as she, Alan, and Will headed into the desert.

By late afternoon, the sun beat mercilessly on the dusty white rocks and searing, lifeless sand of the desert. With the back of his hand, Alan wiped away the sweat that continually formed on his brow. In the distance he could see the humped red ridges of the mountains. The only sound filling the desert was the clip-clopping echo of the horses’ steps as they moved over the dry land.

Alan swallowed, trying to dredge up some hidden bit of saliva to slide down his parched throat. His swallow died, unborn. He’d forced Jessamine and the old man to drink the last of their water some time ago, hoping and praying they’d find the summit and a new source of water before they died of thirst.

The mountains still looked so far away.

“Just ahead,” he thought he heard Will say from behind him.

The words drifted past him, without meaning. Then, a distant part of his brain registered what Will had said. Alan straightened in his saddle.
Just ahead.

A small patch of green appeared in the distance. Before Alan could nudge his exhausted horse, the animal’s nostrils flared, as all three horses shot forward.

All his thoughts focused on the speck of green in the distance. The Valley of Edom appeared like an emerald cut into the arid landscape. They’d made it. He leaned forward, encouraging his mount to greater speed.

Jessamine and Will were right beside him as the greenery beckoned, and glistening water sparkled like a thousand diamonds at the summit of the mountain ahead. His tongue slid along the bumpy, chapped surface of his lips.

Water. Had there ever been a more welcome sight?

He pulled the horse to a stop at the pool’s edge. The Spring of Moses. He led the horse to the water’s edge. The beast needed no encouragement, thrusting its nose into the pool for a long drink. Alan helped Jessamine and Will down from their exhausted mounts. Together, he and Jessamine headed for the edge of the pool. Jessamine scooped up a handful of water and drank. Alan did the same.

The old man stood on the opposite side of Jessamine, looking thoroughly refreshed. Alan frowned. Had Will already drunk from the pool? Had Alan been so caught up in satisfying himself that he hadn’t noticed?

Alan shook off the thought as he stood and removed his empty water bladder from the horse’s saddle. He knelt beside Jessamine again and refilled the container with cool, clear water. The pool was unbelievably beautiful. There were lush blades of grass shooting up from between the rocks at the water’s edge and tiny blue flowers that perfumed the air with their sweetness.

When the bladder was full, he clamped it off, then splashed cool water over his face, allowing rivulets to run down his neck, providing a welcome relief to the sun’s harsh rays.

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