Chapter 5
Marcus crawled through the dank darknessof the small tunnel. He heard the woman shuffling behind him. He scurried onward, crawling arm over arm. There was no room in the long hole; this was the only way to proceed. He didn’t recall the tunnel being so little, but he hadn’t used the tunnels in years, not since he had studied with the monks.
Moving silently through the muck gave him a moment to reflect on what he had done. He regretted killing Brother Nicolas. He had not intended to. He had jerked forward to subdue him, to intercept him from laying hands on the book. But the old man had lunged, probably with the misguided attempt to overpower him. Marcus had planned to bind him and leave him—never to kill the old man. It had been an unfortunate accident. Remorse filled him, but he quickly pushed it aside. He couldn’t think of that now. He had no time to waste. He had to get out of the tunnel, and away from the chateau before the Templars sent knights after him. And before Sterling discovered he had the book in his possession.
The book was too important. Too many people knew about it and wanted it. He wondered what was inside, what made the book so desirable. Whatever was inside, he would be well-rewarded when he turned over the book to his cousin.
Marcus nodded, pleased with himself. As he saw the light at the end of the tunnel, relief and hope filled him. He was weary of creeping through this dirt.
As he neared the soft sunlight streaming through the slats, he saw large boulders outside the grate opening, hiding it from the world. He reached out to the grate and shoved it. But it didn’t budge. With an inhale of frustration, he banged a fist against it to loosen it. It still held tight. God’s blood! He would escape this prison. He put his shoulder against the bars and pushed with all his might. Finally, the grate swung open, and he almost toppled out of the tunnel.
The fresh air engulfed him, and he crawled into the muted sunlight of the fading sun. He stood, surveying the area for any witnesses, and adjusted the girl’s belt over his shoulder. He had half-expected a group of those red-crossed Templars to be waiting for him. But there was no one.
He turned and extended a hand to the woman.
She glanced at his hand and lifted her chin in disdain, ignoring him as she slid out of the passageway. Then she stood, brushing the dirt from the front of her tight-fitting brown leather armor. “Be careful with my sword.”
Marcus scoffed to himself and shook his head. How well could a woman use a blade? Certainly not as well as he could. But, perhaps just well enough for him to be cautious.
He hurried back to the tunnel and closed the grate. It would still be too easy for someone to follow them through the tunnel. Sterling would, no doubt, come this way. He glanced around at the surrounding rocks, choosing a decent-sized boulder. He gaged it with his eyes. It would do. He cast a quick glance at the girl to see her scanning the ground. She was probably plotting her escape. She wouldn’t leave without the book, of that he was certain. He had seen the hunger in her eyes, the intensity with which she gazed at it. She wouldn’t go anywhere without the book. Or her sword.
Marcus put both of his hands on the boulder and tried to roll it. It was heavier than he thought. He strained, exerting all his energy to tumble it forward and position it before the grate.
He rose and looked at the girl. She stood still, watching him with intelligent eyes. Strands of brown hair had come loose from the braid at her back and flapped about her heart-shaped face in the breeze. One of her hands was behind her back.
She met his gaze evenly.
“Drop it,” he ordered.
Her mouth opened in surprise and then snapped closed in fury. She tossed a rock to the side.
He had guessed correctly. She had been going to hit him over the head with a rock and run. He had to admire her intellect. But why would she attempt to escape if she didn’t have the book? Maybe she intended to remove it after he was unconscious. Or maybe… Suspicion prickled down his spine, and he dropped his hand to the pocket in his monk’s robe. No book. He grinned in admiration. She must have lifted it when they were tussling in the tunnel.
He raised an eyebrow appreciatively. “What’s your name?”
Her brown eyes narrowed slightly. “Sage.”
The word sent tremors of unease through him.Sage.He knew that name. “Hawke?”
She nodded.
He clenched his teeth and groaned inwardly. He had met John Hawke once, but his legend had preceded him. John Hawke and his daughters were well-known for their sword skills, loyalty, and tight family connections. Her family would be coming after him when they found out he had her. He cursed silently. More people tracking him. He couldn’t take any chances. The father was an esteemed fighter and mercenary. The sisters were expertly trained, or so he heard.
“What were you doing at the chateau?” He searched the ground until he found a broken branch with leaves still clinging to it.
“Taking the book to Brother Nicolas,” Sage replied.
“Youhad the book?” He believed Christian Sterling was in possession of it. How could he have been so wrong?
“It was a gift to my sister, and we thought Brother Nicolas could help decipher it.”
Marcus scoffed as he bent and picked up the branch. “Sterling would never have given that book away.”
“You know Christian?”
“Aye,” Marcus agreed, brushing the branch over their footsteps to wipe them away. He knew Christian Sterling. He had been tracking him to get the book for months. “We are acquainted.” He stood up, surveying the ground. “Why would you seek Nicolas’s help?”
“Any help decoding would be advantageous.”
