Free To Tempt a Knight by Gerri Russell

far he’d walked or how many days had passed when he collapsed at the edge of a tree grove. He’d lain there, praying for death to claim him, when Brother Kenneth had come along and taken him back to the monastery.
    “I’m here with you,” the man he’d named the Reaper had said. “You’ll not be alone in this, I promise, on my honor as a Scot, and as a Templar.”
    The Reaper had nursed him back to life and filled his spirit with hope. At the monastery he’d learned writing, reading, mathematics and how to fight with a sword. The monks had become his family. But they could never replace everything he’d lost.
    William had accompanied Brother Kenneth on the sacred mission to the Holy Land. Then it had been William’s turn to be the rescuer, pulling the half-dead Reaper from the battlefield and helping him get home safely.
    William forced his thoughts back to the present, back to the woman who studied her father’s scroll. Determination shone in her finely sculpted face. Compassion pulsed through him. She knew what it was like to lose everything, just as he had.
    He cleared his throat, signaling his presence.
    Startled, Siobhan looked up.
    “What are you searching for?” he asked, stepping into the room.
    “Trying to make some sense of all this,” she said with a touch of frustration.
    William gingerly sat down beside her on the bed.
    “Are you well enough to walk about?” she asked with a slight frown.
    “A few cuts can’t keep us from our goal.”
    “Cuts?” Her eyes widened. “Our goal?”
    “Nothing has changed.” He reached over, his fingers lingering atop her soft skin. Their eyes met and held. There was something in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. It sent an icy shiver through him. He might say nothing had changed, but something subtle had shifted between them. “We will find the Holy Lance before de la Roche. Your father will be rescued. Fear not.”
    “I believe you,” she whispered, her gaze never leaving his.
    The reflection of the lamplight shimmered in her eyes. The warmth of the light and the beauty of her face mixed to extraordinary effect. William drew a breath and released it slowly, feeling every one of the new wounds in his flesh.
    “Look at this.” She settled the open scroll in his hands. “Do you recognize this symbol?” She pointed to a small sketch at the far-left-hand corner of the papyrus.
    He turned his attention to the symbol. “It’s the head of the Spear.”
    She nodded. “And this? Do you know what this is?” She pointed to a drawing of two craggy peaks rising above three others.
    “The Cairngorm Mountains,” he replied. “The highest peaks in Britain. Stark, bleak, and dangerous territory.”
    “The kind of place that might naturally protect a treasure of this significance?” she asked.
    “Only one way to find out.” He stood.
    She blinked. “Right now? Shouldn’t we let your body heal some before we—”
    He put a finger to her lips, then drew her by the hands to a standing position. This close he could smell a hint of heather coming from her hair. He swallowed and took a small step back. “We are going to see Brother Kenneth. He understands the Templar coding system, and if we are lucky, he’ll be able to tell us all that we’ll need to know before we set off for parts unknown.”
    He turned back to the cot and lifted the finely woven tartan that served as a covering. Grasping the fabric between his hands, he ripped off a long piece. He took the scroll from her, returned it to its protective casing, then concealed it within the folds of the wool. “’Tis best to keep the scroll hidden. Besides you and me, only Simon and Brother Kenneth should know it exists.”
    Siobhan nibbled nervously at her lower lip. “You think the treasure is there, in the Cairngorms?”
    He grinned. “Let’s find out.”
    She gave him a bemused smile. “You’re excited about this?”
    “For the first time in a long while I feel…alive and ready for