Why not do it now? It shouldn’t be so important to him. Nothing was perfect. His life had been full of compromises. He had grown up on the streets of Damascus, the bastard son of a Frank who had taken his Armenian mother and left her alone and with child. He had indulged in every kind of wickedness and dark pleasure, from the whorehouses of Damascus to the band of assassins led by Sinan, the Old Man of the Mountain. He knew all about filth and death and the few precious moments that made life worthwhile.

Then Selene had come into his life, only a child but touching, bonding with him, stubbornly holding back the darkness. It was a gift beyond anything he had ever hoped to possess. He should accept what Selene could give and be content. But, dammit, he wanted this one thing in their lives to be without blemish.

She had paused beneath a torch; her hair shimmered in its flickering light. She would never be the beauty Thea was, but her spirit lit this smoky hall like a thousand torches. He wanted to warm his hands before that fire, hold her, teach her…

God, he was thickening, hardening as he looked at her.

He couldn’t stand this. He would cross the hall and hold out his hand to her, take her from these people and make-

He muttered a curse and strode out of the hall.

The fresh air did nothing to cool him where he needed cooling. He would probably not sleep this night. It would serve him well. He had always thought martyrs deserved their fate, and he was being disgustingly noble.

“Lord Kadar?”

He turned to see young Haroun, Ware’s page, hurrying toward him. “What is it?”

“A ship has docked in the harbor.”

He stiffened. “Our harbor?”

“No, the harbor at Dalkeith, where we first landed when we came to this land. Robert sighted it and rode to give us word.”

It had come. They had always feared the Knights Templar would discover Ware was not dead and pursue him. “Only one ship?”