provided by one torch, which was stuck in a wall mount by the entrance. ‘Lord Hereford speaks of a stash of the Star substance that he found inside the ruins of Hathor above us…with any luck my brother or Lord Malory will read the journal and find the key to getting us out of here.’
I was dubious of Lord Malory. ‘Did you tell your Grand Master about my pregnancy?’
‘I did not,’ he replied, pretending to be insulted. ‘I actually thought that your father should be the first to know.’
‘Oh.’ The thought of my father’s joy made me gasp and then cough. ‘How happy he will be at the news of a male heir to his estate!’
‘Lord Granville is not well, or so Malory informs me…that was part of the reason he sought you out.’ Devere knew the news was ill timed.
‘No! Father cannot die before he knows,’ I protested, knowing that a grandson was his dearest wish. I walked away from Devere to scold myself. ‘I should have returned to England when you asked me to.’ I turned back to Devere. ‘I was wrong, Earnest, and I’m sorry I did not figure that out before everyone had to suffer.’
My husband shook his head. ‘It’s not like you to give up so easily…I feel sure that in the end, your decision will be vindicated.’ He held his arms wide.
I obliged the invitation and as I embraced my husband for his love and my regret, I gripped tightly to the stone in the palm of my hand.
Outside the gateway of the temple we were confronted by an ambush. Lord Malory’s knights had been surrounded by Arabs clothed entirely in black, right down to their fine mounts—even with our guides and camel herders we were outnumbered four to one.
Our shock of capture was quickly overcome when, with the sound of crashing metal behind us, we realised that Mr Devere and Ashlee had not made it out of the temple, but had been trapped inside.
My husband wasted no time in recruiting Cingar to speak with the Arabs. ‘Ask them what they want from us.’
Cingar shouted the question over the blustery winds of the sandstorm and the leader of the band furnished the gypsy with an answer. ‘They want us to leave with them,’ he conveyed.
‘Tell them we cannot leave. Two of our party have been trapped in the mount,’ Lord Devere instructed. ‘Do they know how we might get them out?’
Cingar obliged and then translated the reply. ‘He said he cannot help those whom the mountain has chosen to claim.’
We tried to debate the matter further, but the Arabs would not discuss it. Our party and camels were rounded up and escorted down the mount, where we were shown into some caves to wait out the storm. The caves were not natural formations, but the remains of mining operations undertaken by the ancients.
I had hours to sit there and ponder how my failure to pull the lever on cue had delayed the proceedings in the temple. If not for me, we would all have made it out of the temple before the storm arrived.
‘We are going to get them out.’ Lord Devere urged me not to blame myself.
I had already suggested that Lord Hamilton’s journal might hold some answers, but our captors were not letting us anywhere near our possessions, not even when we had Cingar tell them that we were only wanting to retrieve a book.
‘I’m surprised we are still alive.’ Cingar noted that the Arab band were all hardened warriors.
‘I suspect that these men are not your average desert bandits,’ Malory advised us all in a whisper. ‘I believe these men are warrior-priests, belonging to the ancient brotherhood of the Melchi.’
‘The Melchi,’ Cingar echoed in disbelief. ‘Surely that order couldn’t have survived since the time of the Crusades?’
‘Why not?’ Lord Malory shrugged. ‘Ours has.’
‘And just how does this help us?’ Lord Devere wondered, more concerned about freeing his kin than receiving a history lesson.
‘Have you forgotten that you are related to the brave knight who originally trapped Molier?’ Malory said, and Lord Devere’s frown only deepened.
‘Yes, but he was one of Sion’s great knights, I doubt—’
‘No…’ Malory said, with a good serve of intrigue in his voice. ‘That was only Albray Devere’s alias. He was really one of theirs.’ Malory rolled his eyes toward the black warriors. ‘To them he was Albe-Ra, the Shining One.’
We feared some of our captors understood our conversation when several of them approached to pull us to our feet.
‘What is happening?’ Lord Devere looked at Cingar, unable to fathom the foreign chatter.
‘The storm has passed and they are eager to escort us back to the Suez.’ The gypsy was hoisted to his feet by two large Arabs.
‘No! I refuse to leave!’ I tore myself away from my captor and, to my horror, I also wrested from him his large curved sword, which was extremely heavy.
‘Susan, no!’ my husband appealed, fearing that the Arab men would not tolerate a woman’s defiance as well as an Englishman might.
The Arabs reacted to my protest rather more favourably than expected—they all fell about laughing as they watched me struggle with two hands to keep the sword in the air. ‘I’ve been stampeded, lied to, hypnotised and
The Arab leader motioned to his men to retrieve the weapon from me, and with all my male companions firmly
