The Crusader ("The Crusader" Prequel to "Kingdom Come") (12 page)

The man
with the receding blond hair tore his eyes away from Rory, smiling cordially.
"I'm Justin Darlow, Senior Administrative Aide at the British Embassy in
Tel Aviv. We received an amazing phone call from our embassy in the States
informing us of your miraculous find." He glanced at Rory. "Dr.
Osgrove was very graciously explaining the particulars. Would it be possible to
see the corpse?"

The
veins in Bud's temples were pulsing furiously. "If it's all right with Dr.
Osgrove, I suppose it's all right with me." It was difficult to keep his
tone steady. "But just for a moment. I want to seal it up before
nightfall."

Darlow's
smile faded, sensing the man's guarded manner. "Thank you," he said,
casting Bud a long glance. "I understand that you've also come across some
valuable artifacts. Could I see them as well?"

Even
though Bud had told the man he could view the corpse, it was apparent he wasn't
willing to show him. Crossing his arms in an unfriendly gesture, Bud realized
in hind-sight that he had been willing to be affable when he realized the
British had come to inspect the find.  However, the moment the aide cast Rory
an openly interested glance, all good-will flew out the window.

Rory
sensed Bud's foul mood, an odd circumstance coming from the usually-sunny man.
She wondered if he was being cautious on her behalf, considering the
conversation they had had regarding the validity of the British claim. As much
as she didn't want the British pushing their way onto her dig, the very last
thing Bud needed was to punch out a foreign aide.

"I'd
be happy to show you the artifacts," she said, putting her hand on Bud's
shoulder to calm him. He was as tense as stone. Casting him a concerned glance,
she tugged on his arm to get him moving. "But if you want to see the
corpse, we'd better do it first. We've got to seal it before the moisture in
the air grows heavy."

Holding
Bud tightly for fear he might do something rash, she directed the aide up the
hill. Peck followed close behind, casting cool glances at the two marines.
Darlow pretended to ignore the tension, brushing the dust off his Armani suit.
By the time they reached the cedar box bearing Sir Kieran's body, the
atmosphere was crackling with stress.

Darlow
looked closely at the knight. "Hmm. Rather well-preserved. When did he
die?"

"1192
A.D.," Rory said, her protectiveness surging as Darlow inspected Sir
Kieran like a side of beef.

The aide
was peering at the brown stains on the tunic and hose. "Remarkable,"
he said. Even the British marines were looking over his shoulder, examining
their military predecessor. "He's bigger than any knight I've seen in our
museums."

"We're
guessing six feet five or six," Rory said. "He weighs well over two
hundred pounds now. We've estimated that during his prime he was close to two
hundred and forty."

Darlow
nodded faintly, walking around the box to better study all angles. Pausing by
Sir Kieran's feet, he suddenly dug into his pocket and pulled out a small
camera. Peck leapt into action before Rory or Bud could respond.

"No
pictures," he said firmly. "This is our find and all pictures will be
printed and copyrighted through the university."

Darlow
looked somewhat surprised. "I... I apologize," he said, tucking the
camera away. "I didn't mean any harm. It's just that the knight's family
asked that I send a photograph. You know, for a keepsake and all that."

"Family?"
Rory suddenly felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. "What...
what family?"

Darlow
nodded his head in the direction of the corpse. "His family, of course.
His descendents. Didn't your university tell you that we had succeeded in
locating them?"

David
looked at Bud. Bud looked at Rory. Only Bud seemed capable of answering.
"No, they didn't," he said.

Rory's
breathing began to come in heavy gasps. Behind her, she could feel Bud's hands
on her arms for support.

"You
found his
family
?" she repeated, her voice a whisper. "How
could you do that so quickly? We only notified the university of the find three
days ago."

Darlow
smiled at her as if she was a moron. "Dr. Osgrove, we British consider
lineage to be the very basis of our society. When your university supplied us
with the knight's name and area of birth, it wasn't difficult to locate his
descendents through records. The University of Sussex has a Genealogy
department that was able to determine Sir Kieran's living heirs within twelve
hours of receiving the information."

Had Bud
not been holding her steady, Rory knew she would have collapsed. "Oh,
God," she gasped, turning away from the group. She simply had to. Darlow
watched her walk away, noting her delicious figure far more than he should have
with the hostile archaeologist standing within striking range.

"They're
anxious to have their ancestor returned, Dr. Osgrove," he said, a sincere
inflection in his tone. Knowing that, legally, the British had no claim to the
man, but hoping the rightness of returning the knight to his family would weigh
heavily on the situation. "He has a very large family, actually. The House
of Hage is an extremely old Anglo-Saxon family said to have descended from the
kings of Mercia. Naturally, they are thrilled you have found one of their
ancestors and wish to have him returned to England for proper burial in the
family crypt."

The
dagger Darlow had driven into her heart with the first mention of Sir Kieran's
family was being further twisted by his manipulative words. Rory's hands were
pressed against her mouth as if to stifle the scream that threatened.

"I
don't believe this," she whispered. After a moment, hazel eyes fixed on
Darlow's face. "Is that why you're here? To convince me to send Sir Kieran
home to his family?"

Darlow
shrugged. "Not really. I was merely sent to inspect the find. But if I had
dug up your grandmother, wouldn't you want her returned to you for a proper
burial rather than displayed in a museum like a freak?"

"That's
enough," Bud growled. "Get the hell off my dig or I'll throw you off
myself."

The marines
that had accompanied Darlow tensed, preparing for a fight. But the aide merely
held up his hand, calming the already-strained situation before it grew out of
control.

"I
didn't come here to offend, Dr. Dietrich, I assure you," he said
sincerely. “My interest is genuine. Sir Kieran's family is very concerned what
will become with him. They merely want him to rest in peace, not be open for
scrutiny next to the dinosaur bones and Egyptian pottery of an American museum.
He's a man, for Heaven's sake. Not a commercial object."

"Don't
you dare to presume to tell me about this knight," Rory exploded, the
unprofessional tears falling. "I've spent the past two days reading his
journal and I happen to know him far better than you, your damn government, or
his haughty blue-blooded descendents. Don't ever imagine that I'm unconcerned
with what becomes of him."

 Bud had
to grab her to prevent her from charging the aide. "Calm down,
honey," he whispered in her ear. "Everything will be fine, just calm
down."

Rory struggled
against him, her shock of not a moment before transforming into anger so
vicious she could hardly control it. The mere suggestion that she didn't have
Sir Kieran's best interest at heart sent her erupting like a madwoman. She
thought her concern stemmed from the fact that he seemed to be her only link to
the elusive crown of thorns, but just as quickly she realized her emotions were
rooted in something far deeper.

Bearing
that in mind, she struggled to reclaim her control. "There is no one more
concerned for the dignity and preservation of this knight that I am, Mr.
Darlow." Wiping hastily at her tears, she took a deep, cleansing breath.
"You go back and tell your government that whatever becomes of him,
whatever we decide what's to become of him, that it will be entirely honorable.
You'll just have to trust us."

Darlow
wasn't happy with her response. "And you don't believe that returning him
to his family would be of the utmost honor? He belongs to England's history,
Dr. Osgrove, and we should like to respect him as such."

"He
belongs to the world's history, Mr. Darlow." She was calming a little more
now. "It wasn't merely the English who went on the crusades, although they
believed themselves to be the most important of the participants. There were French
Knights, Teutonic Knights, not to mention the Spanish and Irish mercenaries. It
was a world-wide affair; not just the arrogant English."

Darlow
drew in a deep breath; the meeting with the Americans was not going well at
all. Rather than spend all night debating the facts with an emotional female,
he decided it would be wise to retreat to the hotel and call the embassy for
further instructions. The work at the site wasn't finished yet and Darlow
estimated it would be some time before the body was moved. Time enough to try
again to convince the Americans that their find belonged to Britain.

After a
small eternity locked in the glare of hazel eyes, Darlow looked to Bud and
David. "I apologize if my actions have offended anyone. It's just that
this English knight, any English knight, means a good deal to my country. This
is our heritage, something America can hardly claim."

Rory let
out a long sigh, an odd weakness encompassing her as her composure returned. 
"My family immigrated to America in the early nineteen twenties, Mr.
Darlow. My mother's parents were born in Hastings, so don't patronize me with
lectures of pure English blood. I could probably give you lessons on it."

Darlow's
gaze lingered on her a moment longer before casting a final glance at the cedar-lined
box. "He belongs with his family, Dr. Osgrove," he said quietly,
turning to leave. "Put yourself in their position. You would want your
relative back, too."

He
strolled down the hill with his two guard-dogs in tow. Bud and David stared
after him, but Rory refused to linger on the man once he was gone. Instead, she
moved to the reinforced casket.

"Bastards,"
she hissed, reaching out to finger Sir Kieran's tunic. "I knew they'd
come, I just didn't think it would be this soon."

Bud let
out a long sigh, frazzled by the whole situation. "What I want to know is
why in the hell Becker didn't send word that they had found his relatives. He
knew the British would make it to the dig site posthaste; he should have
prepared us."

David
went to stand beside Rory, his gaze roving the corpse. "Maybe he didn't
think they'd come this quickly. Or maybe he's already up to his eyeballs in
diplomatic demands and hasn't had the time."

"With
all of the assistants he employs, I can't believe that one of them couldn't
have sent word if Becker was occupied." Rory was touching Sir Kieran's
cheek and Bud had to look away; he couldn't stand the adoring expression on her
face. "So they want you to come home, my lord? I can't say I blame them.
If you could talk, somehow I think you'd want to go home too."

Bud did
look at her, then. "Rory?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you
actually considering...?"

She
shrugged faintly, taking a deep breath to ease her nerves. "We've talked
about this before, Bud. And you were right, although I wasn't going to give Mr.
Embassy the satisfaction of knowing we've been considering his very proposal.
But now, with a family involved... I really can't believe that they've found
them."

Peck
turned his back on the corpse, leaning against the casket and crossing his
arms. "Believe it. And unless they get him back, I suspect the situation
will never rest."

Rory lay
her cheek against the edge of the box, still toying with the neck of the
knight's tunic. The thought of turning him over was almost more than she could stand
and for the second time that evening found herself fighting against tears. Her
obsession with the knight was growing into something she didn't recognize and
had no desire to resist. Knowing that his fate, his chance for eternal peace,
rested solely in her hands was a decision she would not take lightly.

"It
just wouldn't be fair to prop him up in a museum like some stuffed
animal," she murmured. "The more I come to know of this man, the more
I can't stand the thought of treating him like a prize. He doesn't deserve to
spend eternity being gawked at by curious visitors."

David
was watching her over his shoulder, knowing how hard this was for her. Her very
first find destined to be taken away, never to be seen again. Bud had acted as
if the decision was Rory's to make; they all knew it was Bud's final decision
regardless of Rory's feelings. But considering the Nahariya site had been her
project, Bud had allowed her to make the final determination of Sir Kieran's
destination.

The
crown of thorns was slipping through her fingers in more ways than one. Her
only link was apparently bound for England, the journal and artifacts with it.
Peck couldn't imagine that she would have made any other decision; she knew
that Bud was just being accommodating, too. She wouldn't dream of taking
advantage of his kindness. No matter how painful the decision, there was really
no other alternative. The knight had to go home.