Fergus eavesdropped, for they were unaware of his presence. To his surprise, the young boy was in fact a girl, and one determined to leave Jerusalem.
Leila.
Fergus awakened suddenly with a strong sense of doom. His thoughts were so filled with his memories of the Templar stables that he was surprised to find himself in the forest in the snow. He could not smell straw or hear the horses, the swish of their tails and the sound of their hooves on the stone floor. He rolled over immediately and saw that Leila slept, wrapped tightly in her cloak. Why had she been so determined to leave? He was glad to see that she was safe this night, for that had been his first concern after the dream. His fellows were asleep, the horses dozing where they were tethered. The sky was pale, but the sun had not risen as yet. The forest was quiet, save for the call of birds.
Why had he dreamed of Jerusalem?
Or had he dreamed of Bartholomew?
A man newly knighted, with a strong moral code. A man they were to meet at the next new moon, in twelve days’ time.
A man who must be in peril, or soon to be so, just as Leila had been.
They had ridden far to the north of Haynesdale to evade Royce’s men and had intended to ride farther to ensure they were not detected. But Fergus’ dream was a warning.
They would ride back to Haynesdale this very day and hope that they arrived in time.
Or that his dream was wrong. Fergus could not shake the sense that much was amiss, though, and knew he would sleep no longer this night.
He rose and began to pack his belongings.
*
Anna awakened to darkness and the sound of a dog snoring.
For a moment, she was startled that she could see so little, but then she recalled where she was. The cavern was dark, and Bartholomew was curled behind her, one arm cast around her waist. The dog was at their feet.
Bartholomew’s breathing was steady and his body cast a welcome heat. It was not unpleasant to be caught in such an embrace. Anna lay in the darkness and thought of all she knew of this man, this knight who challenged her expectations so much. She did not believe for a moment that he had declined his friend’s offer of a place in his household with no clear plan of where to find his fortune. Indeed, she knew he was one to think far ahead.
Then what was his scheme? He must have a destination.
How curious that Bartholomew had been the one to guide their party to Haynesdale. Why?
Anna recalled that odd mark on his flesh, the one she had glimpsed in the bedchamber in Royce’s hall. That Bartholomew had turned away and covered it so quickly convinced her that it was important.
It could not be.
Surely, her suspicion must be wrong.
There was but one way to be certain.
Anna eased away from Bartholomew, listening with care to his breathing. To her relief, it did not change.
She eased from the warmth of their bed, finding her chemise and drawing it on once again. Bartholomew dropped a hand to space she had vacated. To her dismay, he stirred. “Something amiss?” he asked, his tone so sleepy that she did not think he was truly awake.
“I must relieve myself,” she whispered and he exhaled. He rolled to his back and his breathing deepened again.
Anna stood there and watched him for long moments, her heart thundering. She found the candle again, and the tinder. She turned her back upon him to strike the flint, wishing the sound was not so loud. She lit the candle and pivoted, pleased to see that he still slept.
Perhaps she had exhausted him with their lovemaking.
That might have made her smile if she had not been so intent on proving her suspicion right or wrong.
Anna cupped her hand around the flame and eased closer. Cenric lifted his head to give her an annoyed look, then yawned and burrowed his snout beneath his paws. He groaned a little, stretched, and began to snore again.
The candlelight played over Bartholomew as Anna drew nearer. He was on his back, his hair tousled, one hand flung out to the space she had abandoned. She smiled that his confidence was evident in his posture even when he slept. Even his lips had a slight curve, as if his dreams were merry. She could have simply stood and stared at him in the light of the candle, for he was a most alluring man.
But she wished to know.
