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“Good idea,” Rohan said.

31

IT WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT. THERE WASN’T A SOUL ON THE street. There wasn’t a soul in the cathedral. A full moon overhead cast eerie shadows throughout the roofless parts of the cathedral, sending shafts of light through shorn beams, deflecting them into strange shapes. Birds, disturbed, fluttered overhead. Shadows seemed to move without reason. Susannah pressed close to her husband.

“This is a place of worship,” she whispered, “yet I’m scared to death.”

“Me too,” he said and gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad to see it’s only we and the birds who are here. Ah, here is our abbot’s tomb. Do you think he knew about the Devil’s Vessel?”

“According to history, Abbot Crinan was one of Macbeth’s enemies,” Phillip said, carefully setting down his ladder. “Macbeth killed his son, you see, and after Macbeth was elected to the throne, the abbot tried and failed to overthrow him. I think rather that his tomb is just a convenience to cover whatever is beneath.”

“We will soon know.”

A pigeon flapped directly overhead. Phillip grunted when a glob of white landed on his coat.

Rohan and Phillip tugged on the latch ring until, creaking, groaning from hundreds upon hundreds of years of disuse, the stone sealing the tomb inched upward. “Careful now,” Rohan said. “We’ll have to pull it entirely back.”

Beneath them was a well of darkness. Susannah brought the branch of candles closer. Shadows cut across rotted steps that led into the pit.

“I hope it’s not too deep for my ladder,” Phillip said and swung it down into the hole. It hit the wooden stairs and they fell away, crumbling. “Thank God. It’s not that deep. There, solid ground.”

Rohan and Phillip turned as one to look at Susannah.

“Don’t either of you even consider it,” she said, hands on her hips.

“You’re wearing a bloody gown. You’ll trip all over yourself and break your neck.”

“No, I will tie my skirts up.” She pulled a long strip of fabric from her cloak pocket. “I came prepared. No more arguments. This involves me as much as it does you. More than Phillip. You will not keep me out of the adventure.”

“But we need someone to keep watch, to warn us if someone comes, to make certain the stone doesn’t climb back up and fall down upon us.”

“Leave her be, Phillip. Will you at least let us go down first, Susannah?”

“If you swear not to leave me up here.”

“I swear.” Rohan took off his coat and laid it down upon the stones. He climbed down a good half-dozen steps of the ladder, then said, “All right, give me the candles.”

Before Susannah handed the branch down to him, she looked about the cathedral one last time. She saw no one.

The black well lit up, but still there was nothing to see. Just more black beyond the candlelight.

“What do you see?”

“Nothing yet, Susannah. I’m on solid ground now. It’s sandy. I’m looking as far as the light allows me. Still nothing. It seems more like it’s a cavern than a catacomb. I’d say that we’re about eight or nine feet down.”

“Hold, Rohan. I’m coming.”

Soon Phillip was also on the ground. “God, it’s dark down here.”

“I’m coming!”

Rohan nearly dropped to the ground when he realized that she’d tied her skirt up about her waist. He put out his hands to clasp her waist, but she said, not even looking at him, “I am all right. I will not be a burden. Stand aside.”

When she reached the ground, Susannah calmly untied her skirt and let it fall to the ground. “I hope there are no rats or insects.”

“I will shout for them to crawl up my leg if I see them,” Phillip said. “Now, which way? This passage seems to go in both directions.”

Rohan was silent a moment. “We are beneath the nave, approximately where the railing for the choir would have been. I think we should go toward the altar.” He took the candle branch from Phillip and turned left. “I hope there is no draft. I would hate to be entombed down here in the dark.”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Baron Romance