Free A Knight to Desire by Gerri Russell Page B

fell to the ground at his feet.
    The air still vibrating with the song of death, de la Roche sheathed the mighty weapon. Armies throughout history had fallen before Charlemagne's sword. The Templars would be easy prey once he was fully healed.
    De la Roche lifted the pouch filled with the lock of Brianna Sinclair's hair that he wore suspended by a silken cord about his neck. Just as the old woman who'd helped to harbor him after his fall from the tower of Stonehyve Castle had said, the lock of hair he'd taken from Brianna Sinclair gave him an odd connection to the girl. Through her hair, he had known where to go next to find Lockhart and his band of warriors.
    De la Roche stretched his broken and battered limb, feeling no pain. The Grail would continue to heal him. But the time was past for sending assassins to do what must be done. He must face his enemy himself. Before he met Lockhart face-to-face, he would strike the man in a more subtle way — a way that would hurt him far more than a sword to the chest.
    And de la Roche knew just where to start. Lee Castle was not too far from here. The Lockhart estate would most likely hold many treasures worth destroying. With a satisfied smile, he headed for the innkeeper's kitchen.
    The unprotected sisters of that bastard Lockhart would welcome a basket of beautiful apples. They would accept a gift from one of Lockhart's many associates. He would make certain of it.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    They rode through the night and all the next day, until once again night fell. The sky was bloodred as the last rays of sunlight pierced the horizon. The rays turned the glimpses of the sea peeking out between the trees on their left a blazing red. Instead of taking in the breathtaking beauty, Brianna frowned at the sight. She hated the color red. Since Teba, she'd not been able to separate the color from the sticky red liquid that had covered the battlefield that day.
    Pulling her gaze from the sky, she slowed her pace to bring her horse next to Abigail. They'd been riding for hours. The older woman was as dusty as she from their travels, yet Abigail's oval face and sparkling gray eyes showed no sign of weariness. In fact, with each mile they rode, it seemed as though Brianna's exhaustion increased in proportion to Abigail's excitement.
    "Are you truly that excited to be away from your home?" Brianna asked when Abigail laughed after turning her face into the slight breeze.
    "I've been in that inn for so long. I had forgotten what the world around us looks like — the hills, the trees, the sky. They are all so beautiful!"
    Brianna wished she were enjoying the scenery as much. It had been so long since she'd been free of the confinement of the inn as well. But instead of joy, she felt the incredible pressure of forcing a vision to come to her. What if nothing came? She'd been given a chance to change her future and now what if her gift of sight refused to cooperate?
    "That's a very dark look on your face for such a beautiful sunset," Simon drew his horse up to ride beside her.
    Brianna frowned. Was she the only one who thought the sky appeared wrathful? "How much farther until we reach the priory?"
    "Another day's travel at least. We will have to beg shelter from the lord in the castle just beyond the trees at the shoreline."
    "Is the lord someone we can trust?" Out of habit, Brianna's hand moved to the hilt of the sword at her hip. She fingered the Celtic design carved into the haft, ready to draw if needed.
    Simon smiled. "With our lives." Simon gave his horse a command. His steed leaped to a gallop through the woods.
    Brianna, Abigail, and Kaden followed his lead as they crossed a wide, fast-flowing stream. Moments later, they emerged from the trees to see a shimmering four-square tower made entirely of red stone, rising from the edge of a bluff with the sea stretching endlessly behind it.
    "Red Castle," Simon said, slowing his horse beside her. "The home of Sir Alan Cathcart and his