Free The Crusader ("The Crusader" Prequel to "Kingdom Come") by Kathryn Le Veque Page B

life on one dig or another, dealing with the
tangible evidence of archaeology. This is the first dig I've ever supervised
where we've been searching for something a lot of people believe to be purely
legend."
    Hazel
eyes glittered at him in the dim illumination of the tent. "And you?"
    He met
her gaze. "You're very convincing with your facts."
    "That's
not what I asked. Do you believe I'm searching for a myth?"
    He stood
up, shoving his hands in his pockets. "If I did I wouldn't be here. But I
have to say that I'm a lot like Dave in some respects; an old school guy like
me is partial to hard evidence over tales written by God-fearing monks."
    "So
you have difficulty putting faith in Ottis' manuscript. I can appreciate that.
But do you disbelieve the Bible as well?"
    Bud
scratched his head, trying fervently not to say anything that would offend her.
When discussing her passionate beliefs, it was easy to send her off into a rage
with a single misspoken word.
    "I
was raised Protestant," he said after a moment. "I guess I've always
grown up knowing that I should believe. But being a scientist... well,
sometimes it's difficult. Especially when we're digging up pre-humanoids
hundreds of thousands of years old. How does that Bible explain the existence
of something like that?"
    Rory
smiled faintly. "It does if you look in the right place. For example, the
book of Genesis, verse 2, lines 1 and 2; 'Thus the heavens and the earth were
completed, and all their hosts. And by the seventh day God completed His work
which He had done; and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He
had done.'" She leaned forward on the cluttered desk, her chin resting in
her hand. "God said it took seven days to create the heavens and the
earth, Bud. But he didn't say how long the days were."
    "A
day is a day. Twenty-four hours."
    "Maybe
not in God's time. Considering He believes the life of a man to be barely a
breath of air before it's gone, there's no telling what God considers to be a
day's length."
    Bud's
perfect teeth gleamed in the soft light. "Dave was right. You're one hell
of a theologian. I really pity your theology professor."
    She
grinned, leaning more heavily on her arm as her fatigue deepened. "Old Dr.
Hayworth, head of the Theology and Philosophy department. I gave him a brain
hemorrhage, I think. The guy retired right after I graduated."
    "That's
because poor old Louis was probably having nightmares of the beautiful student
with the cunning of a barracuda." Somewhere outside of the tent, a dog
bayed in the distance and Bud turned toward the canvas opening, gazing out over
the encampment. He wished that he didn't have to go back to his own tent and
sleep alone in his cold, hard bed.
    "Tomorrow
we should remove his helm and figure out how to get him out of the grave,"
Rory said from behind him. "I'd like to do some tissue analysis if
possible."
    Bud
turned to her. "We'll be doing an autopsy. Why do you want a preliminary
analysis?"
    She
shrugged and stood up, moving to stand beside him as they both enjoyed the
gentle breeze. "Do we really need an autopsy? I think it's pretty obvious
how he died. We could simply do a physical and a few tests to determine his
health and other factors."
    Bud
crossed his arms; he had to. It was either that or pull Rory into a crushing
embrace. "It's fairly standard to do autopsies on intact corpses. I don't
think there's any question that we should, for a myriad of reasons."
    Rory's
expression darkened as she looked out over the distant settlement. After a
moment, she lifted her shoulders uneasily. "I don't know... I mean, I've
never agreed with that particular aspect of excavation. So what if we cut this
guy open and find out that he had heart disease and tapeworm?  It's just so
undignified to hack him up when he's survived all of these centuries intact."
    Bud
toyed with his chin, noting her sincerity as she spoke. She was so damn
sensitive, concerned for all things great and small. "Autopsies have