'After our meeting with the gypsies our brother said something about a rescue mission.' The notion did not preoccupy me long-there would be time to consider motives once we were on the move.

'The Duc de Guise is not a man to be toyed with.' My husband looked worried as he explained this in the carriage.

'I feel certain that our sister would have considered the danger before pursuing any business with the duke.' Or so I hoped! 'Or perhaps she merely has business with someone else in the household and not the duke at all.'

My lord still appeared worried, although he forced himself to better his spirits for my sake. 'It shall be a pleasure to make his acquaintance, I'm sure.'

We spent the better half of the day in the carriage, and upon reaching our destination we were told that the duke was unavailable for the rest of the day. The d.u.c.h.ess wasn't accepting guests either, as there had been illness in the house-we were a.s.sured that the emergency had pa.s.sed, however.

'And has a Mr Devere requested an audience with your duke this day?' Lord Devere inquired.

'Oui, Monsieur,' the steward reported, slightly exasperated about the fact. 'The duke could not see him today, but as he refused to leave before gaining an audience, the duke kindly extended Monsieur Devere accommodation for the night.' the steward reported, slightly exasperated about the fact. 'The duke could not see him today, but as he refused to leave before gaining an audience, the duke kindly extended Monsieur Devere accommodation for the night.'

'May I see Mr Devere?' my husband requested, sneaking me a smile. His brother's persistence amused him, and I think my lord was pleased that we'd caught up with his little brother before he did himself and their family name any damage. 'I am his older brother, James Devere, Earl of Oxford.'

'Of course, my lord.' The steward humbled himself a peg. 'Monsieur Devere is in the Long Gallery. If you will follow me.' The steward led us up the grand staircase beyond the foyer.

In the Long Gallery we found our brother looking out a set of huge windows. He appeared to be completely contented with the view. In fact, I had not seen him so at peace in a week.

'Earnest,' Lord Devere called to his brother, but he did not look to us as we approached. 'Earnest, what in G.o.d's name are we doing at the court of the Duc de Guise?'

I looked for the source of Devere's enchantment to see our dear sister in a courtyard, armed with a sword and duelling with another swordsman in front of the duke.

'Oh, my G.o.d, it's Ashlee,' I mumbled, horrified. To the best of my knowledge, Ashlee knew nothing about swordplay, but observation told me differently, for she was well and truly holding her own against the compet.i.tion.

'She is magnificent,' uttered Devere, openly revelling in the sight of the woman he desired.

'Well, if she's down there, let us go fetch her.' Lord Devere headed for the door.

'I have tried to get to her,' Mr Devere informed him, sounding far calmer than one would expect. 'The duke's guards intercepted me and brought me straight back up here. So, for now, I must content myself with the knowledge that she is in my view,' he nodded toward Ashlee, 'and doing a far better job of defending herself than I gave her credit for...she displays all the valour and technique of an experienced knight.' He was awed, relieved and delighted.

My eyes were glued to the duel taking place and when Ashlee tripped on her skirt and fell backwards, it seemed the game was up. Devere and I both gasped. Ashlee's opponent whipped his sword tip across her upper arm, tearing through the sleeve of her brown velvet frock to leave a trail of red in between the damaged fabric. Ashlee inspected her wound briefly, but did not nurse it. Surely it ailed her, yet it only seemed to make her more resolved to win the contest. She recovered her footing quickly and fought back with twice as much vigour as before. In a frightful onslaught Ashlee disarmed her opponent and, to the duke's applause, she bowed to him to claim victory.

We all, in the Long Gallery, applauded the outcome.

'That was extraordinary!' My admiration for my friend worried Lord Devere, although he was quietly impressed himself.

'Please don't take a fancy to duelling, my love,' he jested.

'I daresay James fears the compet.i.tion.' Earnest defended his brother. 'Swordplay is not his best attribute.'

James was mildly annoyed by his brother's insult, but he did not refute it. 'Give me a pistol any day.'

We watched as Ashlee pa.s.sed her weapon to the man attending her and as she moved to approach the duke, he unexpectedly ordered her arrest.

'What does he think he's playing at?' Devere protested, and would have stormed to Ashlee's rescue had the duke's guards not entered from both ends of the Long Gallery. 'Ashlee!' Devere yelled to his wife, desperate for her welfare.

FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE.

A lot of good our magnificent duel had done me; now I was being arrested!

I could only suppose that the duke would tell me that my sword fighting skills were beyond the capabilities of a mortal female and that I had made a pact with the devil! Well, maybe that was not so far from the truth, I considered, turning my questioning gaze to Albray. He had parted with me as soon as the duel was over and was now accompanying me.

I don't understand what went wrong. My knight was as surprised as I was to be trailing the duke back to his room of court under guard. My knight was as surprised as I was to be trailing the duke back to his room of court under guard.

It had felt wonderful, though, to wield a weapon with such precision. My stupid dress had proven to be our only downfall. Obviously, Albray was not used to fighting in so much excess fabric.

I'm sorry about the gash, he said, obviously following my train of thought, or I his. he said, obviously following my train of thought, or I his.

I hadn't even felt the wound until Albray had departed my form-no doubt he had learned to ignore pain. My wound had begun to smart, however.

It was that gown of yours...have you ever considered finding yourself a nice pair of trousers? was that gown of yours...have you ever considered finding yourself a nice pair of trousers?

More than once actually. A precious lot of good a change of clothing was going to do me now. A precious lot of good a change of clothing was going to do me now.

The guards left me in the room of court with the duke, who called for his steward to fetch a surgeon to tend my arm.

'Do you intend to adhere to your blood oath, your grace?' I asked before I accepted his help.

'I do indeed,' he a.s.sured me with a warm smile, which set my misgivings to rest. 'And then some.'

'But my arrest?'

'Was a fabrication,' he said merrily. 'It seems your pesky Monsieur Devere refuses to leave before questioning me about you, and as he just witnessed your duel and arrest from the Long Gallery, I now have the perfect opportunity to delay him for you. While he pleads for your release, you and your gypsy party can be on your way.'

I was relieved to learn of the duke's foresight. 'That is brilliant, your grace. I could kiss you!' I was so excited not to be thrown in prison, and to have freed the gypsies, that I quite lost my head.

'I do wish you would.' He grinned mischievously, and I obliged him with a kiss on the cheek.

'Thank you, your grace.' I then curtseyed to pay my respects. 'I am most indebted to you.'

'Nonsense,' he chuckled. 'We both know that it is I who is indebted to you...Lady du Lac.' He took hold of my hand and kissed it.

The door to the room opened abruptly and I withdrew my hand from the duke's and stepped away. I feared my husband was coming for me, but it was the d.u.c.h.ess de Guise and therefore I curtseyed deeply.

'Enough is enough, my dear duke. I shall not allow you to arrest this woman.' The d.u.c.h.ess confronted her husband on my behalf. 'Have you not seen our son?' she appealed. 'He is healthier than he has ever been. And our servants are recovering also.'

The duke was smiling as he said, 'Anything for you, my love. You win. I will not arrest her.'

Surprised to have won so easily, the d.u.c.h.ess decided to push her luck. 'You will allow Mademoiselle Winston to depart Orleans this day, with all all her companions.' her companions.'

'And on my best horse.' The duke turned to me: 'I do believe that was our arrangement?'

When the d.u.c.h.ess saw my large smile and my affirmative nod, the penny dropped. 'Including Cingar Choron?' she said hopefully. As both the duke and I nodded, the d.u.c.h.ess was possessed by happiness and embraced her husband. I looked away as they renewed their affection for each other.

'It seems that whatever harm has been done to my house, you have completely undone,' the duke said at last, calling for my attention. 'True to the reputation of the fey, the magic you weave is pure inspiration.'

De Guise was not implying heresy this time. It was a true compliment; Albray had also referred to me as one of the fey, at our first meeting.

'Just science and training, your grace,' I insisted once more, smiling.

The d.u.c.h.ess was delighted and clapped her hands together. 'We shall make provision for your journey...food, wine, and an open cart to transport your party.' She looked at her husband, certain that he would agree to anything in his present mood.

The duke cast his eyes over me as he seconded his wife's kind offer of a.s.sistance. 'Perhaps some new clothes for our heroine,' he commented as his steward returned with the surgeon.

'Could I impose on your grace for a suit of men's clothes?' I felt this was the perfect opportunity to change my ident.i.ty. I would leave the lady behind in Orleans.

'My very thought,' the duke concurred, having witnessed my fall during the duel. 'I think we can devise some far more suitable attire for one such as yourself.'

It soon became clear that Gasgon de Guise was indeed a man of his word. I left his house with a full belly, new attire, a sword, a pistol and all all the gypsies, who were quite amazed at their release. the gypsies, who were quite amazed at their release.

The horses that had carried Rumer and me to Orleans were hitched to the front of a cart large enough to carry supplies and the members of our party, of which there were fourteen.

I sat astride in the saddle of a fine white stallion named Destiny and as I rode from the house of de Guise, I embraced a real sense of achievement. It wasn't that I had helped so many, or that I had left happiness in my wake: I had proven to myself that I needed no mortal protector. I had stepped into my own power and I felt like a valiant prince-there would be no going back to being a vulnerable princess. Come what may on my journey to the Sinai, I could handle it on my own...with just a little help from my friends in the spirit world.

My stomach would not forgo lunch any longer. I didn't want to leave Ashlee's tale, but the sound of my hunger pangs was becoming a serious distraction.

As I walked out into the blazing sun, the campsite was like a ghost town and I began to wonder if I'd been deserted.

I found the cook in the mess tent and he informed me in broken English that James Conally had accompanied Andre to town to meet our shipment. Those who remained on-site were sensibly sleeping off the heat of the day in their tents.

I picked up a tray of spoils: a sandwich, a chocolate bar, some fruit and more water, and returned to my abode. Awaiting me on my desk was a note marked with a small red cross that looked suspiciously like my birthmark.

I opened and read the note, which was written in Arabic. It was from Akbar: he was awaiting an audience with me in the Cave of Hathor. I'd forgotten my suggestion to Akbar that we talk this afternoon.

Oh dear. This presented me with a slight dilemma and I sat down to eat my lunch and dwell upon it. This presented me with a slight dilemma and I sat down to eat my lunch and dwell upon it.

I didn't feel safe going to meet with Akbar and his men alone. If I took Albray's stone along on my person, he would know my mind and perhaps perceive my little dream about him. I could carry the stone in my bag or a pocket, but I didn't like not having Albray on hand. After much pondering I decided I would swiftly summon Albray and ask him to accompany me, and then place the stone in my bag. If I was quick, hopefully my knight wouldn't have the chance to perceive any of my little fantasies about him.

Miss Montrose, how are you this fine day? Albray asked upon arrival, sounding suspiciously chirpy. Albray asked upon arrival, sounding suspiciously chirpy.

'Well, thank you.' I slipped his stone into my bag. 'And you?'

Very well, he affirmed, still smiling broadly. he affirmed, still smiling broadly.

I'd never seen my knight so jovial before. 'And what is the cause of today's frightfully good cheer?'

Albray shrugged off his good mood. 'I don't know...some days it's just grand to be a spirit.'

I wasn't too sure what to make of that. I was unwilling to raise the subject of my dream; if he raised it, I could deny it.

'Akbar wants to meet with me.' I explained the reason for the summons.

Yes, Albray nodded, Albray nodded, and you would do well to heed his advice. and you would do well to heed his advice.

'What makes you say that?'

Albray fixed me with a knowing look. I told you I would be of service if left at leisure. told you I would be of service if left at leisure.

That seemed to explain what Albray did with his free time in the land of the living. 'My own personal spy,' I said, honoured, before I departed the tent with Albray following. 'What did you find out about him?' I whispered my question, even though the steep dirt track I ascended to the ruins was completely devoid of people.

He belongs to an order of warriors known as the Melchi. They protect the interests of the ancient Egyptian order of Melchi-Zadok.

Melchi-Zadok, roughly translated, meant priest-kings, and this ancient order had eventually become known as roughly translated, meant priest-kings, and this ancient order had eventually become known as Melchizedek. Melchizedek.

The later Scottish chapter of these priest-kings carried on the traditions and teachings of the famed Fisher Kings of folklore.

'Another Grail a.s.sociation!' In my mind, all this information was beginning to connect and merge into new theories, quite opposed to any that had been presented to me to date.

The fairytales and legends which developed out of Grail lore served the equivalent function in the Cathar faith as the parables of the New Testament served in Catholicism. This fairy lore was born in the eighth century following the implementation of the Donation of Constantine, which, incidentally, my order knows is a complete forgery.

The Donation to which Albray referred made its first appearance in the middle of the eighth century, but was thought to have been written by the Emperor Constantine some four hundred years before, although it was never produced or mentioned in the interim. This doc.u.ment changed the political face of Europe. It proclaimed that the Emperor Constantine appointed the 'universal pope' as Christ's elected representative on Earth, and as the papal dignitary held authority over any earthly ruler he had the power to create and destroy kings. In 751 AD the Vatican began to dispose of the Merovingian line of kings and replaced them with a new dynasty, the Carolingians. This being the case, it was not surprising that Albray's order believed that the pivotal doc.u.ment was a forgery.

The Donation transformed the nature of monarchy: from an office of princely service to the community it became an office of absolute rule; the kings of Europe became servants of the church instead of servants of the people.

'Except in Scotland.' I realised the significance of the Scottish chapter of the Sangreal Knights. In fact, Robert the Bruce and all of Scotland had been excommunicated by the pope of the day.

Indeed, Albray said. Albray said. The Grail legacy was forsaken in all but the Gaelic realms. The Grail legacy was forsaken in all but the Gaelic realms.

'So when the Bible states that some of Christ's apostles were fishermen, what the text might actually have said was that they were the Fisher Kings of an ancient priesthood and that they harvested men's souls, rather than the produce of the sea.'

Albray seemed pleased by my reasoning. Exactly. Christ himself became a priest of this order after his crucifixion. In the Bible this promotion into the inner sanctum of the senior priests is recorded as the ascension, which reads to the layman like some Exactly. Christ himself became a priest of this order after his crucifixion. In the Bible this promotion into the inner sanctum of the senior priests is recorded as the ascension, which reads to the layman like some supernatural occurrence. But the Essene priests, the Magi, employed the names of the Old Testament archangels. The head priest, or Zadok, was the Archangel Michael, and his amba.s.sador was the Archangel Gabriel, and so on. The name of the inner sanctum of the Melchizedek order was referred to as supernatural occurrence. But the Essene priests, the Magi, employed the names of the Old Testament archangels. The head priest, or Zadok, was the Archangel Michael, and his amba.s.sador was the Archangel Gabriel, and so on. The name of the inner sanctum of the Melchizedek order was referred to as- 'Heaven!' I guessed the punchline. 'In which case, the two angels who guarded the pa.s.sage to heaven during Jesus' ascension were Essene priests guarding the inner sanctum of the order.' I stuck out my bottom lip as I considered this made far more sense than my previous understanding; though I'd not really bothered to form any theories on the subject, as I had always considered the Bible as a propaganda tool rather than a serious historical reference. 'So,' I proposed lightheartedly, 'heaven has sent an angel to me.' I motioned to the ruins ahead, wherein Akbar awaited.

So it would appear, Albray conceded with a smile. Albray conceded with a smile.

I pa.s.sed through the crumbling Shrine of the Kings into the Main Court, which led to the Portico and the entrance to the Cave of Hathor. Not that there was much to define one chamber of this dwelling from another-the walls and columns were crumbling into the sand and the roof was nonexistent. Only in the cave carved out of the mountain did a roof still remain.

It was clear to me that the structure Andre's team had uncovered, but not yet opened-which Hereford called the Star-Fire Temple-had obviously superseded the Hathor Temple complex, for there was no evidence that supermetals had been used in this structure or it would probably still be standing in its entirety. It seemed more likely that this complex was purely for the purpose of the construction and maintenance of the Star-Fire Temple beneath.

Akbar's two a.s.sociates stood guard at the entrance to the Cave of Hathor. As I approached, the Bedouins bowed deeply, having comprehended that falling to the ground before me was not appropriate. I took the time to learn their names, which served to set all of us more at ease. They were Kadar and Kamali, neither of whom was as large and imposing as Akbar, but then, they were really little more than youths. They advised that their lord was waiting inside the cave.

I entered the cave. Raising the already unbearable temperature of the day was a tall flaming torch, the handle of which was wedged into the ground where it stood. Akbar was nowhere in sight. Looking up, I noticed the absence of the weapon I'd hung in the roof during my previous visit. 'You managed to retrieve your sword, I see.' I announced my arrival, although I felt sure Akbar was well aware of me already.

'With some difficulty.' Akbar emerged from behind the pillar of Amenemhet the Third. 'I shall only ever draw it in your defence from now on,' he vowed.

'That's comforting, Akbar.' I wiped the sweat from my brow with the palm of my hand. 'Could we not have met down at the camp? There's n.o.body there.'

'Any walls belonging to Molier have ears. This place I trust.' He took a seat on the ground and I joined him.

'You are implying that my tent might be bugged?' I was shocked.