Read The Adept Book 3 The Templar Treasure for Free Online

attendance, in addition to physicians and nurses circulating among them, and the big room breathed with the susurrant murmur of lowered voices above the hum and ping of the electrical equipment. Adam and Peter drew one or two token glances as they entered from the corridor, for both were striking-looking men, in different ways, but it was clear that the other visitors present were too wrapped up in their own concerns to pay much heed to what was going on elsewhere in the unit.
    Nathan Fiennes occupied the bed farthest to the left of the room, his supine, white-draped body wired up to a battery of monitors. His face beneath the alien white skullcap of surgical bandages was grey and bruised-looking, more like the face of an effigy than that of a living man. As Adam drew closer, he could hear the older man’s breath whistling as it sawed in and out between slack, dry lips. A nasal oxygen tube of transparent greenish plastic snaked back over his head to disappear among the orderly tangle of other tubes and wires. Even without a knowledge of what was recorded on Nathan’s medical chart, Adam would have known at a glance that his old friend was not likely to recover from his injuries.
    Rachel Fiennes was slumped exhaustedly in a chair between her husband’s bed and the next, which was empty, her back to the doorway. Her head was bowed, either dozing or praying, but even from across the room, Adam could see the tension in the lines of her body as she clung fast to one of her husband’s slack hands. His other hand, confined by a cuff, was connected to an I.V. drip. Together they made a study in tragedy.
    Shaking his head sorrowfully, Peter Fiennes went up to his mother and laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. When she started up, he soothed her with a pat and said gently, “It’s all right, Mother. Sir Adam’s here—just as Dad wanted.”
    Rachel Fiennes’ haggard gaze flew beyond her son to the tall, dark figure standing a few feet behind him, at the foot of her husband’s bed, and a tremulous smile touched her lips.
    “Adam,” she breathed softly. “Thank you so much for coming.”
    “I only wish it were under happier circumstances,” Adam said quietly. “I’m not sure why Nathan asked for me in particular, but now that I’m here, I hope I can be of some service.”
    Wordlessly Peter Fiennes brought up a chair for Adam beside his mother, then took another for himself on the other side of the bed, facing them. As Adam settled beside Rachel, she reached out to take one of Adam’s hands with her free one.
    “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re here, Adam,” she whispered. “If only you knew how guilty I’ve been feeling.”
    “Guilty?” Adam said. “Whatever for?”
    “For not telephoning you sooner,” she replied. “Nathan wanted me to call you last night. Right after the incident, before he lost consciousness, he made me promise to call you at once. I gave him my word, fully intending to do as he wished, but I could see he was desperately in need of medical attention. My first call was to summon an ambulance and the police, and after that—” She made a helpless gesture.
    “You were doing your best to save your husband’s life,” Adam said quietly. “You were entirely right to regard everything else as secondary.”
    “No, I don’t think you understand,” Rachel insisted. “The thieves, whoever they were, took the Seal—the one that’s been in Nathan’s family for goodness knows how many generations. You know the piece I’m talking about?”
    “Not the one he used to refer to as the Solomon Seal?” Adam said, seeing it in memory and suddenly flashing on a twinge of greater uneasiness.
    “Yes, that’s the one. I’m sure he must have shown it to you.”
    Adam nodded. “He did—but that was many years ago. It certainly was very old—though I wouldn’t know about it having been Solomon’s Seal.”
    “I don’t know that either,” Rachel said. “I think it was more