Free To Tempt a Knight by Gerri Russell Page B

mouth moved, but at first, no sound came forth. Finally he said, “The Spear of Destiny? Oh, Heaven help us all.”
    Siobhan didn’t understand the man’s words or his fear. “What’s wrong?”
    Brother Kenneth shook his head. “This is no ordinary spear that de la Roche wants. The Spear descends from the lineage of Adam, forged from a curious metal that came down from the heavens in a flash of bright light. The heavenly metal gives the Spear unique powers that can be used for either good or evil.”
    “Did my father ever use the Spear?” she asked cautiously.
    The old monk patted the back of her hand where it rested beside the scroll. “Be assured, milady, your father’s role with the Spear was only as its protector.”
    A wave of relief washed over her. She still could hardly believe her isolated, introverted father was connected with this band of warrior monks. Had she truly been that blind to the things happening around her? Or had her father just been exceptionally clever at concealing his activities?
    Siobhan turned to Brother Kenneth, studying his features. A sense of familiarity came over her. “Did you come to our house to meet with my father in the past?”
    The old monk returned her gaze with a soft smile. “When you were a young girl, aye. But it has been many years, and you are much changed from that time. ’Tis why I didn’t recognize you at first glance.”
    Siobhan straightened and stared at the scroll. At one corner, there was a drawing of an older man draped in robes with a crown of leaves circling his head, holding along spear toward the sky. Her father had drawn all these sketches for a purpose, and he had entrusted them to her. She pointed to the string of letters below the drawing. “What does this say?”
    Brother Kenneth leaned toward the scroll. He tapped his finger against the line of letters. “Your father’s usual code was something along the lines of every second letter, then the seventh, every third letter, then the seventh, every fourth letter, then the seventh, over and over again. Let us see what happens when we use that method.”
    Slowly he read, ‘Whosoever possesses this Holy Lance and understands the powers it serves, holds in his hands the destiny of the world for good or evil.’
    “My father would have wanted the Lance to be used for good,” Siobhan said.
    “Agreed,” Simon and William said at the same time.
    Siobhan shifted her gaze to the center of the scroll, which looked like a map. “Did my father leave directions for us to find the Holy Lance?”
    Brother Kenneth frowned as he studied the text. “‘The mother cradles the Spear of Humanity.’”
    “And over here.” Siobhan indicated the light text that appeared more like the ripples in a river than actual words.
    The old monk startled. “How did you see that, milady?”
    She shrugged. “All of a sudden it just stood out.” The monk narrowed his gaze and pulled the single tallow candle on the table closer to the scroll. After a slight pause, he read, “‘Only with faith and might can one leap the divide to part a mother’s tears.’”
    Siobhan frowned. “What does it all mean?”
    “A riddle,” William said.
    Simon’s gaze darkened. “Why could it not have read, ‘Go here and you’ll find the Spear’?”
    William raised an eyebrow. “When has anything to do with the Templars ever been simple and straightforward?”
    “Never,” Simon replied, without a hint of humor.
    “How do we decipher the meaning?”
    William leaned back and grimaced, pained by his wounds. “We go to the Mother’s Cradle and figure it out.”
    “Where is that?” Siobhan asked.
    William’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “There is a cave in the Cairngorms known as the Mother’s Cradle. Seems like as good a place as any to start our search.”
    “What if we are wrong?”
    “Then we will know it when we find nothing there,”
    William said without expression.
    “My father—”
    “De la Roche will not kill