The Crusader ("The Crusader" Prequel to "Kingdom Come") (46 page)

He tore
his eyes away from the crown, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. "And you?"
he asked, his voice hoarse. "What of you? Does this finally fill the void
within your soul?"

She
shook her head faintly. "You've already done that."

"But
what of your mother?"

"She
doesn't matter any more. Only you."

He
sighed, his hands trembling as he set the crown back to the box. "I find
this recovery rather anti-climactic," he said softly. "I had always
believed that the moment I gazed upon the diadem again, unimaginable glory and
honor would be mine. But now I realize that this crown cannot bring me the
glory I seek. Only my heart can do that."

She put
her arms around him, holding him tightly. "You're so wise in the ways of
other, Kieran. But you're obviously not so wise when it comes to
yourself."

His
massive embrace threatened to crush her, his face in her shoulder. "I
relied on this crown to bring me a sense of completion to my life, of honor and
family pride. I had hoped that it would place me on a pedestal of glory for my
father and Richard to worship," he pulled his head from the crook of her
neck, gazing deeply into her eyes. "I have been such a fool, Libby. I
thought this crown could provide me with all I had sought, fulfillment through
the adoration of others. But I see now that I was wrong. My soul was complete
the moment I met you only I was too blinded by my sense of duty to realize it.
And now see what I have done; you have risked everything for me. I have ruined
you."

Rory's
brow furrowed. "No, you haven't," she put her hand to his pale cheek.
"I wanted this as badly as you did. I needed this.
We
needed this.
Maybe if only to see how foolish our blind ambition was and that the true
meaning of life is where you least expect to find it."

He
raised an eyebrow. "You are too wise, lady. Mayhap your wisdom will allow
you to forgive the jeopardy I have caused you for using your love to gain my
own ends."

"Just
like I used you?" she shook her head in disagreement.  "I thought we
agreed on this. We needed each other; one without the other could not complete
the task. There is equal blame and there is no blame. It's what we both had to
do."

He
continued to gaze into her face, kissing her sweetly as David pretended to
ignore the exchange by finishing off the roll of film. But David realized one
thing very clearly; Rory's obsession for the knight in the grave had brought
about a miracle. A love only dreamt of in fairy tales had come to life and if
David lived for eternity, he could never hope to understand what had happened
this day. But even if he never understood, he would always believe.

It was a
strong faith that held firm as he finished with the camera and asked the foreman
to videotape the find. Taking samples from the wreath and placing them in
sealed tubes, he handed them over to a clerk who would forward the specimens to
the laboratory facilities in Tel Aviv.

It
didn't matter that it was the middle of the night. There was work to be done
and David intended to see it through. But his focus didn't prevent him from
noticing just how exhausted Kieran was, his shirt damp with blood as Rory
cradled his great head against her breast. He went so far as to suggest that
now would be a good time to seek medical attention and Rory almost had Kieran
convinced when headlights on the distant road captured David's attention.

He rose,
peering down the hill and to the long road beyond. There were three cars, from
what he could see, and he knew their time had run out.

"Rory!"
he hissed. "Cars are coming. It's probably that Corbin guy."

Kieran
was on his feet before Rory could rise, his eyes sharp in spite of his pale
countenance. Rory stood beside him, her expression laced with fear.

"Oh,
God," she muttered, looking to David in panic. "We've got to get out
of here. Back to the airport and head for England."

"Go
back to England?" David repeated. "But you're a criminal there. You
and Kieran need to fly back to the States!"

"No,
David," Rory snapped, rushing to collect the treasure that had cost so
very much to retrieve. "Don't you understand? Kieran has got to take the
crown back to England as he promised, and I've got to return to face up the
charges. I can't spend the rest of my life running."

"Lib,"
Kieran's expression was uncharacteristically gentle. "Mayhap we should
remain. If it is Corbin...."

"If
it
is
Corbin, then there's no way in hell I'm letting him have you or
the crown. He tried to kill you once and there's no telling what he'll do given
a second chance," she looked to David. "We've got to go back, Dave.
I'll need the jeep."

"I'll
drive you," David was already moving.

"No,"
Rory stopped him firmly. "I don't want you to be implicated for aiding a
criminal any more than you already are. Kieran and I have got to do this
alone."

Before
David could protest, Rory had Kieran by the hand and the two of them were
racing toward the jeep as fast as Kieran was able. Handing him the box, Rory
helped him into the passenger seat and bailed into the driver's side. Casting
David a final, heartfelt expression, she threw the car into drive and headed
down the back road of the dig.

David
watched them go, apprehension filling him. Turning to the oncoming line of
cars, he was not surprised when they veered in pursuit of the fleeing jeep.
Muttering a curse, he raced to a second jeep they hardly ever used because the
transmission was bad.

With the
help of the foreman, David tore the protective tarp from the vehicle and tried
to start it. When it wouldn't turn over, the foreman popped the hood and he and
David struggled to find the problem like a pair of Keystone Cops.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

It was
difficult to see the road in the dead of night. The headlights of the jeep
barely pierced the veil of darkness as Rory and Kieran sped south, away from
the pursuing Land Rovers. To make matters worse, more clouds were gathering and
the wind had picked up. Having spent more than a year in Nahariya, Rory knew a
storm was approaching.

It was
approaching in more ways than one. Kieran sat in the passenger seat, his left
hand over his bandaged wound, taking a pounding as the vehicle lurched over
rough road. Rory knew the area well and knew that she was putting more distance
between Kieran and the small hospital in the city, torn between the need to
seek medical attention and the desire to be free of Corbin.

Her
first instinct was to head back into Nahariya for the hospital. But Kieran
wouldn't hear of it, directing her quite firmly to return to Tel Aviv where
they could catch a flight back to England. He would be fine, he insisted, once
he was allowed to rest. But Rory didn't believe him and tears stung her eyes as
she struggled to steer in the darkness. To come so far and then risk losing him
to an eight hundred year old wound was almost more than she could bear.

An
apprehension made worse as Corbin's fleet closed in on the old jeep with their
newer cars. Rory was doing an admirable job driving over the bumpy road that
wound its way around Nahariya and eventually ended up along the coast, but the
pack of jackals was closing in and she knew she couldn't go much faster.  If
she was bordering on panic, she never let on. In fact, she almost found herself
wishing Corbin would catch up. At least then Kieran might agree to medical
attention before the police locked them up and threw away the key.

Twisting
their way among the hills, they emerged onto a flat stretch of land and the
weak glitter of the ocean could be seen in the distance. The clouds were
thickening, the smell of rain pervasive and amidst her other troubles, Rory
knew the wipers of the jeep didn't work. In the arid lands of Israel, Bud had
never given the broken blades much thought. But Rory was certainly thinking of
them now. Lurching over a particularly bad bump, she gripped the old steering
wheel too tightly and came away with a nasty blister.

The road
sloped downward, heading for the Mediterranean. Corbin's cars were coming
closer, like dogs nipping at her heel, and Rory spent a good deal of time
watching the rear-view mirror as the bright lights advanced. She was so
involved with the approaching high beams that Kieran's warm, damp hand on her
thigh startled her.

"Sweetheart,"
he murmured. "Mayhap you should stop the car. I do not believe it wise to
run any longer."

She
turned to him, noting how terribly pale he was. In fact, he looked very much as
he had when she had first saw him in the grave; pallid. Refusing to fight her
terror down any longer, she couldn't help the anguish in her voice.

"Oh,
Kieran," she moaned. "We've got to find you a doctor. To hell with
Corbin and his henchmen!"

He shook
his head feebly, his blood-stained hand on her leg. "Libby, I've been
running from Simon for eight hundred years. Mayhap I was not meant to elude
him. Mayhap I should simply succumb to the inevitable."

"No,"
she sobbed, the tears coming. "I won't let you. We've come too far for it
to end like this."

He
smiled, touching her cheek and leaving a crimson streak. "It will never
end between us, Lib. You and I are a part of one another, in this time or any
other. We have accomplished our task, and now we are finished. Mayhap it is
time to allow history to fulfill its destiny."

She ran
cold. "What does that mean?"

He
sighed, the oozing wound draining his energy. "It means that eight hundred
years ago, I defied death with the magic of an alchemist's potion. I cheated
the natural course of life so that I could finish my sworn task. Now that my
duty is complete, mayhap death is attempting to claim me as it should have
those centuries ago. The closer Simon looms, the more my wound bleeds. I cannot
believe it to be coincidence. The man was meant to kill me."

Rory
sobbed softly, shaking her head. "You're not going to die," she
whispered. "I won't let you. I'll get you far away from Corbin and we'll
find a doctor who can heal you."

"There
is no one who can heal me."

"Don't
say that!" she slammed her hands against the steering wheel, almost losing
control when it leapt over a series of harsh bumps. Gripping the steering
column tightly, she wrestled for control in more ways than one. "Kieran,
you're a part of me. We're incomplete without each other. If you die, I will
too."

He
touched her face again, his expression serious. Thick fingers wiped at the
tears as she struggled to concentration on her driving.

"Oh,
Lib," he murmured. "Time could not keep us apart. Certainly death
cannot either. I shall be waiting for you when you cross the threshold of
Paradise, have no doubt. We shall spend eternity together, you and I."

She
sobbed openly, losing focus of the road. "No, Kieran," she sputtered.
"I don't want you to die. I want you to live. I want us to get married and
have children and grow old together. I don't want you to leave me!"

He
leaned over, grunting with pain and exertion, and lay his head on her shoulder.
"I will never leave you, sweetheart. I love you with all that I am, all
that I will ever be. Know this to be true, for all time."

She
tried to touch him but the road was too rough and she couldn't risk letting go
of the steering wheel. They were nearing the beach now, far away from Nahariya
and entering Syrian territory.

The mob
of Land Rovers wasn't far behind, their headlights casting flickering light on
the sloping landscape of the sea. Sobbing as Kieran weakly comforted her, Rory
took a turn too sharply and the jeep nearly went over. Overcorrecting, she
heard something snap and grind and the car suddenly came to a halt.

"Damn!"
she screamed, beating at the steering wheel as if it would correct the problem.
"Kieran, the car's busted. We can't...."

He
smiled at her, his gem-clear brown eyes filled with emotion. "I know we
cannot run any longer. I am not meant to run any longer," when she started
to sob again, he simply collected her hand, the crown, and opened the door.
"Come along, Lib. I would show you something."

She let
him pull her from the car. The Land Rovers were just coming over the rise in
the near distance as Kieran staggered across the sandy soil, heading for the
ocean. His wound was bleeding profusely, trailing down the leg of his new
Levi's and staining his boots. Boots he had been so very proud of. Rory
sputtered and wept, following him, having no idea where they were going. But
Kieran knew. He knew now.

The
clouds over head were beginning to rumble and a light rain fell as they neared
the shore. Behind them, the Land Rovers came to a halt and soldiers in fatigues
spilled forth, followed by two men in suits. But Kieran and Rory ignored the
cluster of antagonists, heading for an outcropping of rock overlooking the
turbulent swells.

His
voice was soft as he spoke, the clear brown gaze moving across the dark waters.
"Eight hundred years ago I came ashore on a beach not dissimilar to this
one," he grunted with strain as he mounted the rocks. "Hundreds of
men and horses bound for the Holy Land, intending to rid God's country of the
Muslim insurgents. I was one of those men and I wore the banner of England
proudly."