To Tempt a Knight (16 page)

“Are you ready to look upon what has not been seen for many years?”

She nodded. It took their combined strength to push the solid rock door aside. “Get the lantern,” she said breathlessly.

He got it and stepped inside, illuminating the dark cavern behind the door. Siobhan followed close behind. Stale air greeted them as they stepped inside the chamber. William set the lantern down, allowing their eyes to adjust to
the half light. As her eyes adapted, she could see a long chamber, but no treasure. In fact, there was nothing at all, except another arched doorway on the opposite side. Determined to find something of use, she searched the walls for paintings or more carvings but could find none.

William drew an unlit torch out of a metal holder on the wall. He touched the tip to the flame of the lantern and illuminated the opening of the chamber with light. He handed her the torch, and they entered the chamber together. They walked farther, shining the light over every surface, but found nothing. “Looks like the journey continues,” he said with a touch of disappointment.

“We’ll find it,” she said, reassuring him even as doubt pierced her prior certainty. They had to find the Spear, or her father would die. Siobhan tightened her hand around the torch and moved slowly forward into the darkness.

Siobhan stopped. “Listen.”

William paused beside her. A low, deep hissing issued from the darkness ahead. “Sounds like water.”

Siobhan smiled up at him. “It sounds like a waterfall. Come on,” she said, hurrying down the passage. As they continued toward the sound, the walls came alive with bright, vivid paintings of men on horseback, wearing tunics bearing the Templar cross, charging into battle against a turbaned enemy. “Scenes from the Crusades,” William noted as they hurried past.

They went on, eyeing the paintings as they did, until suddenly without warning, the floor slanted sharply down. Siobhan dropped her torch. She cried out as she slipped. She grasped for the walls, but the path was too steep, and she felt herself sliding over a precipice and into the darkness ahead.

“Siobhan!” Panic gripped William. He braced himself against the wall and made a wild lunge down the steep slope for Siobhan’s arm. He couldn’t lose her. He connected with something solid. Her fingers wrapped around his. He held tight and pulled with all his strength.

When her head appeared above the level of the floor, he grasped both her arms and tugged her beside him. They collapsed back against the floor, breathing heavily. “I thought I’d lost you again.” He pulled her into his arms.

“I didn’t expect the floor to just fall away like that.” She rested against his chest until her own breathing and the beat of his heart returned to a normal rhythm.

“Another Templar trap. Just like the Egyptians in their burial chambers, the Templars were fond of traps to protect their treasure.”

“What will we do now?” Siobhan asked.

William sat up, bringing Siobhan with him. Together they gazed off into the darkness beyond the tunnel. “Once again you were clever enough to discover the trap that was set here. Now all we have to do is figure out a way across.”

“What was the second clue that Brother Kenneth decoded from the scroll? ‘Only the faithful…’ ”

William picked up the lantern from where he’d tossed it to the ground. He held it out before them, illuminating a ten-foot drop that plunged into a pool of water. The
water came from the waterfall on the other side. Between the pool and the more distant waterfall lay an island. They had to somehow bridge the divide between themselves and the island.

“ ‘Only with faith and might can one leap the divide to part a mother’s tears,’ ” William said, recalling the phrase from the scroll. An idea took root. He hurried back to the colorful images that lined the walls. Holding the lantern high, he searched each scene. Templars engaged in various battles lined one side of the wall, while Templars at prayer lined the other. Faith and might. “Siobhan, run your hand over the wall and look for anything not as it seems.”

She nodded and headed to the wall depicting men at prayer, while William skimmed his fingers over the rough rock on the opposite side. At a drawing of a knight holding his sword across his chest in salute, his fingers felt a rough cut in the stone that did not appear to be anything more than a part of the drawing. Upon closer examination, however, he could see that the cut encircled the drawing, as though designed to conceal something more.

“I found something,” Siobhan called over her shoulder. “This image of a Templar on his knees is cut away from the rest of the stone, as if it would move if I pushed it inward.”

“Press it, hard,” William encouraged her, at the same time depressing the image he’d found. The stone sank into the painted image. In the next moment, a grinding sound filled the confined space of the tunnel. Farther down toward the ledge, a slab of stone slid sideways to reveal a winch set back into the carved stone. “Your father is a wise man to conceal the winch in such a way,” William exclaimed as he scooted on his knees toward the device. He twisted it to the right again and again as the mechanism
moved something at the base of the ledge Siobhan had nearly tumbled off.

The ground beneath them began to shake. Grinding sounds filled the air. A heartbeat later, a two-foot-wide wooden plank slid out of the solid rock beneath them, creating a bridge to the island beyond.

“Templar brothers have provided safe passage.” William stood and offered Siobhan his arm. She accepted with a smile as he guided her across the bridge.

At the end of the bridge sat two giant urns filled with oil. William touched the candle from the lantern to them both. They caught fire and filled the underground cavern with a warm golden glow. The cavern’s ceiling extended high above them. Crystalline formations in the rock walls and ceiling caught the flames and sparkled like a thousand stars overhead.

“It’s beautiful,” Siobhan breathed beside him.

They were deep inside the earth, yet a sense of peace, of restfulness and welcome, filled William to the core. “Your father is a true talent, Siobhan.”

She looked at him, then back at the waterfall that spilled down a rock face that lay beyond the opposite side of the island. “My father?”

“I can’t imagine how long it took him to build this place. And he would have had to do it in complete secrecy, too.”

“Do you really think the treasure is here behind the waterfall?”

He grinned. “Do you want to find out?”

At her nod, they hurried across the island until they came to the water’s edge. More than a hundred yards separated them from the base of the waterfall. A light mist hung in the air as the water rushed over the falls with a soft roar. Siobhan had started for the water when he held her back with a touch on the arm. “It would be
easier for our return if we left our dry garments behind on the island.”

A flush of color stained her cheeks before her lips worked into a smile. “What a clever ruse, sir, to get me out of my clothing once again.” Her tone was playful as she reached for the ties of her gown.

“Allow me.” He reached around her and made short work of the lacings until her gown dropped to her feet and she stood in her shift before him.

“Seems only fair that I should help you with your tunic and mail.” She looked at him inquiringly. His breath caught at her expression, and a surge of heat shot through him. By the time she had removed his garments down to his braies, he was trembling with need. He fisted his hands.
The treasure,
he reminded himself. They were here for the Spear.

Regaining control of his senses, he reached into his saddlebag for his flint and a tallow candle, then grasped his sword. Offering her his other hand, they entered the softly churning waters. He pushed through the current that dragged against their flesh the closer they got to the falls.

William stopped at the base of the falls and turned to Siobhan. “Take a deep breath,” he shouted above the crashing of the water. As soon as Siobhan’s chest expanded, he plunged them forward into the stream.

The falling water hit them hard, nearly knocking Siobhan off her feet, but he held her tight against his side and moved them steadily forward into the heaviest part of the flow. The need to draw breath grew stronger with each labored step.

They broke through to the other side. He drew a gasping breath, as did Siobhan. “We made it.”

She dragged several sharp breaths into her lungs. “There
is
a cave.” They kept moving through the water until they stood upon dry land.

“Aye,” he replied, peering into the darkness. He handed her the candle. “Hold this while I try to dry off the flint.” He bent to the dirt beneath his feet and rubbed the stone along the surface, hoping the earth would absorb some of the water. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the darkness until he could make out the outline of Siobhan’s body before him.

Her wet shift clung to her legs. She plucked it away from her skin, causing a pool of water to drip onto the dirt floor. Despite her soaked clothes, she wasn’t cold.

“Bring the candle down here,” he instructed. “The wick will be easier to light against the ground.” He flicked the flint against his sword. Over and over he repeated the process, until finally a spark came forth. He had to create a spark several more times before one caught the wick. A wisp of smoke curled up from the fiber, then a sputtering flame that built in intensity.

Siobhan shielded the delicate flame with her curved fingers, protecting it, nurturing it, until it burned steadily. “Can you see any other urns? If they left them at the entrance, why would they not leave some here?”

“Over there.” William motioned to the left side of the water where a giant urn stood as though waiting to be lit. A moment later, a bright golden light spilled across the inner chamber.

“We found it!” Siobhan gasped.

William uttered a cry of wonder and disbelief. Riches spilled over every surface. He took two halting steps toward the enormous wooden cases inset with jewels from an early period in Egypt’s history. A painted dragon ship of Viking origin. A gilded chariot from Roman times. Statues made from marble, obsidian, limestone and granite from every culture—Babylonian, Egyptian, Greek, Viking, Roman and more. Jewel-encrusted chests brimming with gold bracelets, necklaces, crowns.

“Herod’s crown,” Siobhan breathed, her gaze fixed on the bejeweled chest that held it. “I recognize it from my father’s stories.”

William turned to Siobhan to see her eyes wide with wonder as she looked around. She moved with awestruck deliberation about the chamber. “All these things…I know them from the stories my father used to tell me.” She paused beside four silver trumpets. Her hand reached out, hovering above them, but not touching the precious treasure. “The trumpets used to herald the coming of the Messiah.”

She moved beyond to a gilded throne. “The throne of Constantine.” As though in a trance she continued. “The Athenian Sword of Pericles. The girdle of Hippolyta, the Amazon queen.” She moved about the room naming things as she went, “Ramses’ golden chair. Octavius’s goblet. Excalibur.” She paused, her fingers suspended over the blade. “It does exist.” She drew back her hand and continued about the chamber. “Penelope’s spindle. The Tablets of Thoth.” She paused, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

William rushed to her side, supporting her in the cradle of his arms. “What is it?”

“I never thought…My whole life I’ve heard about these things in the stories my father told me. The details he used to reveal…I always assumed he had a vivid imagination, but in reality he knew so much about these artifacts because he had touched each and every one of them.” A smile lit her face. “My father
was
Keeper of the Holy Relics. I know that now without a doubt.” Her breathing steadied. She grasped his hand. “Let me show you.” Excitement laced her words as she pulled him toward the north wall, which was lined with shelves from ceiling to floor and filled with scroll upon scroll. “These are some of the rescued scrolls from the library at Alexandria. And here…” She pointed to others. “From the community at Qumran.”

She hurried across the chamber and paused before a large bejeweled table. “The Table of the Divine Presence.” On the table sat a chalice. She stared at the unassuming goblet as though caught in some spell. The chalice appeared to change colors before her eyes. Siobhan reached her fingers out toward it, then pulled them back, as though afraid to touch something so precious. “The Holy Grail.”

Her excitement fueled his own. They were so close. “Help me find the Spear of Destiny.”

“My father used to tell of a Roman spear made of iron. Over the centuries, the tale has changed. It is said that a nail from the crucifixion was hammered into the blade and set off by tiny brass crosses. The blade itself is sheathed in layers of silver wrapped with gold,” Siobhan explained as she progressed about the chamber, searching.

“Here!” William exclaimed when he caught sight of the very object Siobhan had described. The Spear, its blade sheathed in gold, leaned against the chamber wall, toward the back. He made his way to the weapon. It seemed regal yet harmless, set among the other treasures in the room. But its history gave testament that it was anything but ordinary. “They claim the Spear of Destiny has been carried into battle by some of the greatest military minds to date.”

“You found it.” Siobhan stood beside him. “My father is saved.”

William turned to her. “Siobhan, we cannot go to your father straight away. It’ll be nightfall soon. Traveling down the mountain is far too dangerous in the dark.”

Some of the joy left her face. “I understand, but that doesn’t stop my worry. What de la Roche could be doing to my father…”

“De la Roche won’t kill your father until he knows the Spear is within his grasp.”

“I am counting on that,” she said with a half smile. “Are you going to touch the Spear?”

Despite her worries, she stared up at William with a tenderness that touched his soul. This was the moment they had hoped for since joining forces outside her burning home.

And still he hesitated. Touching the weapon meant a return to the world they had set aside on their journey here. He would have to go back to his brothers. The ache of indecision centered in his chest. He was torn between a world he knew and a world he hardly dared to believe he deserved. Could he give up the Templars for this woman?

He sighed, suddenly feeling lost. The last few days with Siobhan had been a gift. He’d seen for the first time in his life that he was loveable, that happiness could exist for him, no matter how short-lived. He was lucky to have had this time with her—whether it evolved into one night of passion or six. He’d been given a wonderful, irreplaceable gift. And he intended to make the most of it in the here and now.

He grinned down at her. “The Spear isn’t going anywhere. There are other things in this chamber that intrigue me more.” William took Siobhan in his arms as strong emotions tightened his chest—an overwhelming sense of joy and rightness.

He’d never felt this way before, not with anyone. Making love with her had been more soul-touching than he dared put into words. It went deeper than that, though. He had known her only a few short days, yet it felt as though he had known her forever, that she was inexplicably a part of himself.

William brushed his face against her hair and smiled, remembering that his first impression of her had been of a plain-faced nobody. With the golden light cast from
the urns brightening her face and gilding her hair, she was anything but plain. She was beautiful.

He tightened his arms around her as he thought about the night before, when she’d whispered his name in the darkness, when she lay trembling in his arms.

He breathed in the scent of her hair and felt his body tighten with desire. “We are safe here. Would it disturb you to stay in this chamber tonight, surrounded by the treasure?”

She shook her head. “With you, I feel safe.”

He pulled back, his gaze intent on her face. “Don’t feel too safe. My motives are not entirely pure. I don’t want to have anything to do with the Spear this night.”

Her eyes widened with awareness. “What would you like to—?” Her words broke off as he reached out and cupped her breast with the palm of his hand. He could feel her nipple through the sheer, damp fabric of her shift. He rubbed the tender peak until it beaded beneath his hand.