The Crusader ("The Crusader" Prequel to "Kingdom Come") (30 page)

Bud
opened his mouth to refute her but she was on the move, unbuttoning Kieran's
brand-new shirt. Kieran was torn between his hostility toward Bud and the erotic
gesture of Rory's soft hands undressing him. He settled for the neutral
position of watching her curiously.

"Look
here," Rory opened the shirt, exposing Kieran's broad, broad chest. Her
gentle fingers began to dance across the flesh as she spoke. "Look at the
scars, Bud, from practicing for years with broadswords and maces and flails.
And look how broad he is, rippled with raw muscle; no steroids in this body.
And here; look at this huge scar. This is where all the blood came from that
had stained his tunic and hose. Remember?"

Bud's
expression clouded as he studied the enormous man, unwilling to admit that he
was coming to look vaguely familiar and that Rory's reasoning seemed to make a
good deal of sense. Before he could respond, however, she put her hands on
Kieran's face, tracing the rugged lines of his beauty.

"And
look at his face, Bud," she said, turning to look into Kieran's
magnificent eyes. "You know these features. You saw them, along with me
and Dave, for the very first time nearly a week ago. You even said he was
good-looking enough to run for Mr. America. Don't you remember? Dammit, Bud,
look
at him."

Face
pallid with shock, Bud could only stare in amazement. Everything she said made
perfect sense and the longer he gazed at the massive man, the more horrified he
became by the tendrils of recognition.

"It's
impossible, Rory," he finally said, his voice husky with confusion.
"What you're suggesting is purely impossible."

"That
may be, my lord," Kieran entered the conversation for the first time, his
hostility banked for the moment. "But it is nonetheless true. I was put to
sleep by an alchemist eight hundred years ago only to be awakened by the
strength of pure human emotion. Apparently, the lady's attachment to me served
as the catalyst for my resurrection."

Bud's
mouth was hanging open again. "Christ... that accent," he muttered.
"Incredible. I've never heard a British accent so... heavy."

Rory
sighed thankfully, seeing that Bud was once again returning to the calm,
reasonable archaeologist she knew. But he was brutally analytical and she was
further aware that convincing him of Kieran's reality would still take a good
deal of persuasion.

"That's
because it's real, Bud," she smiled, one hand still on Kieran's face.
"He's not an actor or anything like that. He's a knight of King Richard's
realm."

Bud
continued to stare, although he had closed his gaping mouth. After a moment, he
scratched his head in a puzzled gesture, indicating that his shock was wearing
thin and his brain was starting to work again.

Rory
watched him closely as he turned away to pondering the situation. Removing her
hand from Kieran's face, she batted at him when he grasped it and tried to kiss
her fingers. Although the demonstration sent her heart fluttering wildly, she
nonetheless shook her head in a scolding gesture and went in pursuit of Bud.

He was
moving toward the window, his face ashen and his eyes somewhat glazed.
"Bud?" she prodded gently. "Please tell me you're at least
trying to understand this."

He
cocked an eyebrow. "Understand?" then, he snorted, turning to look at
Kieran as the man fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. "Christ, I have
to say this for him; he certainly looks like the knight in the grave. But what
makes you think that this guy hasn't been sent by the Hage family in an attempt
to somehow mislead you?"

"Why
would they?" she responded. "For what reason? I don't have anything
they could possibly want or use; they took everything I had, and then
some."

He shook
his head, eyeing the massive man who seemed to be having a good deal of trouble
with the buttons. Rory noticed Bud's curiosity and quickly moved to shore up
the modern fastens. Kieran smiled his thanks, sending Bud's confusion sparking
into a raging fire of jealousy. The way Rory responded to him, coyly, only
fanned the flames.

The
control so thinly held was leaving him once again. "So just like that, you
believe him," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Tell me, Rory;
did you actually see this miraculous resurrection? Did you see his heart began
to beat again or his lungs start to breathe? Or did you just wake up from your
drunken stupor to discover him alive and well?"

Rory
looked at him, aware of his condescending tone. "It was just like I told
you," she said quietly. "I kissed him good-bye and fell asleep on him
because I was exhausted. When I awoke a few hours later, he was stirring. I
think that even in a drunken sleep, I would have noticed if someone had moved
the body I was lying on top of. It wasn't like I was in a coma."

Bud's
gaze shifted from Rory to Kieran. The man met his gaze evenly, not as
challenging or angry as it had been earlier. Hell, it looked like the same man.
Even down to the shape of the lips; and Bud should know, considering he stuck
his fingers in the man's mouth. But the concept of raising a man from the
dead... well, it just wasn't possible.

"I'm
sorry," he murmured, shaking his head and retracing his steps away from
the window. "I just can't... Rory, I don't know how this guy has managed
to hypnotize you, but dead bodies just don't come back to life. I need you to
come back with me to the hotel; you've got a lot of explaining to do to Steven
Corbin."

Her
heart sank. "Oh, Bud," she whispered, feeling defeated and sickened.
"Please believe me. I'm not trying to manipulate you, or lead you on a
wild goose chase. This really
is
Kieran Hage."

Bud
reached out, putting a hand to her cheek and forcing her to look at him.
"I know you wish he was," he looked to Kieran, his eyes roving the
man suspiciously. "Look, pal, I don't know who you are or what you've done
to her, but if you've got something to do with the disappearance of Sir
Kieran's body, then you're in a lot of trouble, too. Come on, Rory. We're
going."

He
grabbed her by the hand, intending to pull her to the door. But he hadn't taken
a step when Kieran was on him, separating him from Rory with unearthly
strength. Rory shrieked softly, pleading for Bud's safety as Kieran abruptly
placed Bud in the nearest chair. It was done roughly, without particularly
thought for comfort, but not a hair on Bud's head had been damaged in the
process. Yet the message was obvious.

"My
lord," Kieran's baritone voice was even, a return to his usual calm
composure. "My name is Sir Kieran Hage, Viscount of Dykemoor and Sewall,
and I was born January 4, 1160 in my family's castle of Southwell. I have three
younger brothers and a father who still resides at Southwell. My mother died
when I was eight years of age, after the birth of my youngest brother, and I
have a host of other family members scattered throughout eastern England. Since
you do not believe the lady, mayhap you will believe me. I am who I say I am,
my lord, I assure you."

Bud
stared at him, annoyed by the man's brutal action but strangely compelled by
his eloquent words. Rory hovered beside the massive man, eyes wide with
apprehension.

 "Ask
him something, Bud," she encouraged softly. "If you don't believe who
he is, then ask him something only he would know."

Bud's
eyes darted between the man and Rory. "Like what?" he demanded.

Rory
glanced at Kieran's profile; he was still staring intently at Bud, like a cat
watching its prey. After a moment, she put her hand on his arm gently to ease
him away from the angry man in the chair. The last thing she needed was Bud
provoking Kieran into violence with his stubborn stance.

"Ask
him about King Richard," she finally said. She didn't know what else to
suggest.

Bud took
a deep breath, muttered a curse, then fixed his ice-blue gaze on Kieran.
"All right," he muttered. "If it'll help convince you that he's
an imposter, then I'll do anything. You want a question, pal? Then here's a
question. Rumor had it that King Richard preferred both men and women sexually
and that he had a bastard son by a lesser noblewoman. What about that?"

Rory
rolled her eyes in a disbelieving gesture; of all the questions to ask! Kieran,
however, remained completely calm. In fact, his massive hand had found Rory's
as it rested on his elbow and he began to caress her fingers gently as he
spoke.

"I
was aware of the rumors of his preference and a few times saw evidence of the
truth," his voice was quiet. "But it was something we did not speak
of. As for his bastard son, I met the boy once when I was newly knighted.
Although Richard himself did not tell me the lad was his son, the resemblance
was striking."

Bud
cocked an eyebrow; a generic answer and not particularly convincing. He looked
to Rory, suggesting his patience with this charade was dangerously thin, and
she hastened to rectify the situation.

"The
crown, Kieran," she turned to the knight, her voice as soft as Bud as ever
heard it. "Tell him about the crown. Your reason for having it."

Kieran
cast her a dubious look; speaking to the lady about his mission was one matter,
but speaking to a perfect stranger was entirely another.

"He
knows all about it," Rory encouraged when she read his doubt. "In
fact, he was helping me search for it when we found you. Please, Kieran, tell
him about El-Hajidd. Tell him everything."

Kieran
sighed; certainly, he had nothing to lose. The man with the ice-blue eyes was
obviously inferior in both strength and size and there was naught he could do
against him. Even if he was in league with Simon's phantom, still, it wasn't as
if he could cause more betrayal or pain than Simon already had. It was
extremely important to Rory that her friend be convinced of Kieran's
authenticity for reasons Kieran was having difficulty comprehending. 

After a
lengthy pause, he moved away from Bud and Rory and eased himself onto the edge
of the mattress. "When our Lord Jesus Christ died on the cross at Mount
Calvary, his body was taken and prepared for burial by Joseph of Aramethea
among others. 'Tis said that after the resurrection, Joseph collected not only
the shroud of Christ's burial, but the diadem of thorns that had been cast to
the floor of the vault when our Lord's body had been wrapped," his voice
was unusually soft as he formulated his thoughts. "As you know, Jerusalem
was under Roman control and no place for Christians. Especially those close to
Christ. Joseph traveled north in his ministry, carrying with him the shroud and
the crown until he came to Tyre."

Not
surprisingly, Kieran's hypnotic tone had Bud and Rory listening intently. As Rory
sank to her knees beside Bud, enraptured by Kieran's beautiful voice, the
massive knight calmly continued.

"While
in Tyre, he stayed with an innkeeper and his family. Romans abound, however,
and the innkeeper saved Joseph's life against a band of particularly cruel
soldiers. In thanks, Joseph gave the pious man one of the only possession of
value he had. The crown of thorns."

"The
innkeeper was a Christian?" Rory asked, her tone faint with wonder.

Kieran
smiled at her. "Indeed, my lady. He accepted the crown as if it were more
valuable than gold, passing it down through generations of his family. A family
that eventually converted to Muslim, though the crown was still kept sacred.
When the Crusades came, the patriarch of the family buried the crown to keep it
from being destroyed by Allah's vengeful fanatics. Even as the family fought
against the Christian knights from the west for years to come, the crown was
still kept hidden until the coming of Guy de Lusignan and Frederick of
Barbarossa."

"What
happened then?" Rory was thoroughly enraptured.

Kieran
was fixed on her. "The family had risen to prestige within the ranks of
Saladin's warriors, including the eldest son and heir. When the collapse of
Acre became apparent over two years of continuous fighting, he attempted to
negotiate a truce without Saladin's knowledge or consent. Saladin, of course,
was reluctant to a surrender of any kind, but El Hajidd was convinced a
peaceable treaty was necessary in order to preserve what was left of Saladin's
forces. As a show of good faith, he was determined to extend a peace offering.
Something the Christians would value above all else."

"The
crown."

This
time, it was Bud who spoke. Kieran looked to him impassively. "Aye, the
crown. I was chosen the leader of a secret delegation appointed to retrieve the
crown. As I explained to the lady, the other men of my delegation turned
against me because they believed that God's only true victory would be in the
complete destruction of Saladin. Forced to flee with the crown in my
possession, I managed to hide it before assassins found me and did this,"
he touched his left side gingerly, rubbing the scar. "An alchemist gave me
a potion to put me into a deep sleep while other potions he administered healed
my wound. And in sleep I remained until the lady awoke me. But now that I have
been resurrected, 'tis my destiny to return to the place where I buried the
crown. I must complete what I started eight hundred years ago."

When
Kieran finished speaking, the silence in the room was deafening. Rory stared at
him, lingering on his story of adventure and history as Bud remained completely
unmoving. He was gazing at the massive man, observing intelligent eyes of clear
brown and knowing the truth, as the man believed it, was evident. And he
continued to stare at the alleged knight until Rory broke into his train of
thought.