His heart beat rapidly, sweat pooled beneath him.If he had it in him, he would have wept.As it was, he had energy only enough to shiver even though his body burned.
At least the treasure was safe.In that he could find solace.But only that.
When next he opened his eyes a cool breeze touched his heated skin.He turned his head to view his hell.But it wasn’t hell he was seeing, rather the crumbled remains of a stone wall and the unlit wicks of dozens of candles.
“The fever broke.”
His gaze darted to the voice, but was only able to make out dark hair and a strong build.A warrior, mayhap.
“Where am I?”
“Scotland.”
He closed his eyes against the disappointment.He would have rather died than live one more day.
“You will live, brother.”The crunch of stone beneath boots told him the man was moving, but his soft, even breaths remained close.Birds chirped outside.Birds.He’d never thought to hear birdsong again.He didn’t welcome it.
“Why do you call me brother?”He searched for his rescuer, but was unable to move overmuch without feeling as if his head would split in two.
“Are you not a brother?”
Suddenly he was on alert, his body tense.What did this man know?What had he seen?His mind raced to the treasure.Was it still buried or had this man retrieved it?
“I am no one’s brother,” he said.
“Others think differently.”
Why wouldn’t the man move into his sight?“What others?”
“Your brothers.”
“I told you.I have no brothers.”He did have brothers though.Thousands being persecuted as he lay upon this pallet, weak as a babe.But he would not admit to that.Could not without dire consequences.Moments ago he was disappointed he had not died.Now he was glad.He had to make certain the treasure was still buried.That no one knew of its existence.
The man stepped closer.He was clothed in the garments of a warrior.A sword at his side.Scars on his arms.Muscles that bespoke of long hours of battle.
The man looked down on him with dark eyes.“Do not forsake your brothers to me, knight.”
He swallowed, suddenly ashamed.“Who are you?”
“I am your savior.I brought you back from death for you are needed.”
“I accomplished my task.”What had started as a statement, turned into a question and he cursed his weakness.If the illness had not stolen his strength he would be on his feet, sword in hand, demanding answers.As it was, he could not even lift his head.
“For now,” the man said.
“Speak plainly.Who are you?”
“I told you.”
“You told me nothing.What is your name?”
“Michael.”
“Where are you from?”
“Far away.”
“Enough with the riddles.”
