"Ye'll speak tae no one 'til ye've dealt wi' me. In whit battle did ye receive yer wounds?"

"Tebas de Ardales."

"An' who did ye fight under?"

"Sir James the Good."

"The Black Douglas?" Calder turned to his men. "Fetch a physician and be quick. Tell him we may need a chirurgeon as well."

"Yes, m'lord." The two men hurried off.

"Why dae ye seek the Templar, laddie?"

The soldier forced his eyes open against the fever. "Only the Templar can be trusted tae guard my keep."

"Is that so?" Calder bent to remove the prized object resting upon the man's chest piece—the soldier's sword raising quickly to kiss Calder's throat. "I'm sorry, m'lord, but I wis instructed tae relinquish this only tae a Templar."

* * *

The sun was late in the summer sky by the time Thomas MacDonald arrived at William Calder's home. More Viking than Celt, the burly elder possessed thick auburn-red hair and a matted matching beard. Draped across his broad shoulders was a white tunic, emblazoned with four scarlet equilateral triangles, their points meeting in the center to form a cross.

MacDonald entered without knocking. "A'right, William Calder, why have ye summoned me frae Morayshire?"

Calder pointed to the young soldier, whose wounded left side was being bandaged by a physician. "The laddie claims tae have fought under the Black Douglas. Says he traveled frae Spain tae seek the Templar."

MacDonald approached. "I'm o' the Order, laddie. Who are ye?"

"Adam Wallace. My faither wis Sir Richard Wallace o' Riccarton."

Both men's eyebrows raised. "Ye're kin tae Sir William?"

"He wis my first cousin, my faither his uncle. I still carry William's sword in battle."

Calder examined the offered blade, sixty-six inches from point to pommel. "I dinnae see any markings on the hilt that designate this tae be Sir William's."

MacDonald nodded. "William aye kept it clean. A fine sword it is, fit for an Archangel tae wield, yet light in his terrible hand. " He pointed to the silver casket. "Tell me how ye came by this?"

"I served under Sir William Keith for jist under a year, ever since the Bruce fell tae leprosy. Oor king had aye wished tae take part in the crusades against the Saracens, but kent he wis dyin'. He asked for the contents o' this casket tae be buried in the Church o' the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The Black Douglas wis tae lead the mission, joined by Sir William Sinclair, Sir Keith, an' mysel'."

"Go on."

"When we arrived in Spain, Alfonso XI of Castile and Leon… he convinced Sir James tae join his vanguard against Osmyn, the Moorish governor of Grenada. The Black Douglas agreed, an' we set off on the twenty-fifth of March, that is, all but Sir William Keith, who had injured his arm frae a fa' an' couldnae fight."

"Whit happened?"