The Templar's Code

CHAPTER 35

Mercurius heavily sighed. “It must be done.”

“You have my word.”

Communiqué ended, Saviour turned his attention to the pair lounging on the stone slab beside the river. His mentor had been displeased to learn that the Brit and his woman emerged from the cave empty-handed. It meant that there was nothing in the cave to retrieve. Whatever treasure had once been safeguarded in the subterranean hideaway had already been confiscated. That being the case, Saviour now had to ensure that no one ever learned of the cave’s existence.

Unzipping his canvas carrying case, he first removed a leather quiver that contained two dozen wooden arrows. Unlike an aluminum or fiberglass arrow, a cedar shaft had its own unique personality. The wood grain gave each arrow its own feel. Its own smell.

He fingered several arrows, gauging the spines of each, the stiffness of the arrow determining its flight distance. He settled on a wooden arrow with blue feather fletching. The color of the Aegean Sea in the early morning light.

On Panos Island he used to feign interest as Evangelos droned on about shear drag, kinetic energy, and the laws of physics. When it came to archery, Saviour knew that only one thing mattered — hit the target.

And he was very good at that.

Smiling, he lightly touched the steel tip of the selected arrow. “This will hurt you a great deal, Englishman,” he softly whispered.

Before it kills you.