“I’ve been thinking about it,” Rohan said, still digging as gently as he could, but it didn’t matter, bones crumbled or fell forward and onto the floor. “This in-between business, it’s got to mean in between the bones and the back wall, doesn’t it? Could it possibly mean something else?”
“Well, well, I think I’ve found something that isn’t a bone or a skull.” Slowly, Phillip drew out a cask—a reliquary. It was identical to the drawing in the cloth book.
It was so very old, Phillip was afraid it would crumble in his hands. Very gingerly he set it on the ground.
Rohan and Susannah were on their knees beside Phillip, staring at the beautiful, impossibly ancient wooden cask with its inlays of gold and silver along its sides.
Rohan was gently pulling at the thick bar that held the cask together at the top. “It won’t come free,” he said. “Damn, it would be immoral to break into it. I wish we had the bloody key.”
“Wish no longer, Rohan. I’ve got the key. Here it is.”
It was Tibolt Carrington. Susannah was so surprised that she whirled around and fell onto her bottom. She felt a skull crush beneath her. She stared incredulously at Tibolt, who was standing not four feet away from them, a very large and ugly gun in his hand. In his other hand he was waving the tiny gold key on a golden watch chain and holding a single candle. Only one candle. That was why they hadn’t noticed any light other than their own branch of candles.
Rohan rose very slowly. “Tibolt. We didn’t believe you were following us. We looked.”
“Hello, brother. And I suppose this is the equally infamous Phillip Mercerault?”
Phillip also rose, moving slowly a bit further away from Rohan. “Yes. You, I imagine, are the faithful, devout clergyman who is so beloved by his flock?”
“More devout than either of you philandering bastards. Rohan, has Mercerault slept yet with our mother? No, I doubt it. He must be all of twenty-six or twenty-seven—too old for dear Charlotte.”
“You will have to ask her,” Rohan said.
“Perhaps I will. I knew you would realize it was more than likely that I would follow you here. Both Teddy and I were very careful. We knew you were coming to Scotland. It was just specifically where in Scotland that we didn’t know. We kept well back.
“Now, I would like for Susannah to hand me the cask. I have many times wondered if it really existed, if such a miracle could have survived, buried away, rotting. It’s so very old. And now it is mine.”
“And the Devil’s Vessel is inside,” Rohan said, his eyes on his brother’s gun.
“I pray that it is. I saw the three of you pay a visit to old Mr. Budsman. I suppose he told you all he knew about the Bishops’ Society, all about Bishop Jackspar. What you can’t know is that Jackspar evidently eased the last days of an old Knight Templar. The man told him of the vessel and gave him the ancient writings, the key, and a crumbling map, begging him to keep it safe, saying that the future of humanity would now lie in his hands. He said that the Templars had guarded the secret for many centuries, but there were none left to trust. Then he died—that or Jackspar murdered him. Who knows? It was Jackspar who made up the cloth book and wrote into it all that had been in the crumbling original parchment. You found the book, didn’t you?”
“You know that we did. It provided the clue to find the cask.”
“I knew when I saw the three of you coming out of Bishop Roundtree’s house, trying to look as if you’d found nothing at all. It amused me because none of you could prevent the excitement from bubbling out of you. You found the other half of the map as well?”
“Yes, it was in the book,” Rohan said.
“But I had the other half. How did you manage?”
“I drew it on another piece of paper,” Susannah said.
“So you have uses other than the obvious ones. Hand me the cask now, Susannah.”
“Wait,” Rohan said. “Just a moment, Tibolt. Tell us now, just what is this Devil’s Vessel? How does it come by its power? What is the bloody thing?”
“I told Susannah about its power. With it, I will rule the world. I will live forever. I will be as a god. There is nothing more to tell you.”
“Yes,” Phillip said, “there is. What is it?”
Tibolt laughed. “You will see soon enough if the vessel is indeed what I believe it to be.”
“Where is Theodore Micah?”
“He is waiting for me in the cathedral. He is keeping a watch.”
“Once I give you the cask, what will you do?”
He looked down at Susannah. “I won’t kill you, though you’re worth little enough. As for you, my brother, no matter that you’re as lecherous, as filthy and perverted as our parents. But no, I am a man of God. I won’t kill any of you.”
Phillip took another very small step. Now he and Rohan were in a half circle around Tibolt.
“Enough, dammit. Give me the cask, Susannah. Be very careful with it. It’s older than anything one can begin to imagine.”
Very slowly, Susannah picked up the cask. She was terrified that it would crumble in her hands, but it didn’t. It was heavy. She took the two steps to Tibolt.
“You can’t take it. You don’t have a free hand.”
He realized she was right. She would have sworn that he flushed. “Take it beyond me and set it on the ground. Soon you will see the Devil’s Vessel.”
Tibolt handed Susannah the watch chain. “Here is the key. Open it, Susannah. Don’t try to be a heroine or I will shoot your husband.”
“He is also your brother.”
“I won’t kill him, but I will shoot him in the knee. He will never walk again. Perhaps some of his dozens of women will even remove themselves. Who knows?”
She took the chain from him. The tiny gold key felt very warm in her fingers. She was pleased that her hand wasn’t shaking. She was scared to death. How to stop him? What to do? She saw that Rohan and Phillip were well separated now. But still, if one of them managed to get to him, he would be able to shoot the other.
“I need more light,” she said after a moment of running her fingers over the thick bar of wood that held the cask together. “I can’t find the hole for the key.”
Tibolt moved beside her. He leaned down and placed his single candle on the ground. She watched his fingers move slowly over the thick wooden bar. He didn’t find the hole either. He sighed. “Everything is difficult in life. I am only twenty-four, and yet I have already learned that.”
“Wait until I find you,” Rohan said easily, “and then you will truly come to comprehend how difficult life can be.”
“The philanderer speaks. A threat. Ah, yes, I know that you are a noted member of Gentleman Jackson’s salon, that few want to take you on in the ring for fear of having their jaws broken or their teeth knocked out. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that you’ve shot some husbands after you’ve seduced their wives.”
“Is this truly what you think of me, Tibolt?”
Tibolt shrugged. “You are like our parents. They are immoral, wicked. The old man died, but she lives on. Ah, I have found it. The bar is simply a decoration. The keyhole is right here, at the juncture where the cask slopes up.” He looked away just for a moment.
Susannah lunged upward, throwing herself at him, knocking him onto his back, both her hands grasping at the hand that held the gun.
“You little bitch!” He struck her hard in the jaw with his fist. She cried out, then sprawled unconscious on top of him. “No, brother, don’t you move or I will kill you. Stay back, both of you.”
“No, Rohan, no.” Phillip’s voice was quiet, calm.
“Now, let me roll her off me and we’ll see what we’ve got here. Stay back, Rohan, she is all right.”
He was soon on his knees in front of the cask. “Both of you, back up another two steps. That’s right, against all those lovely skulls.”
Tibolt fit the tiny key into the lock. Nothing happened. He cursed, gently working the tiny key back and forth
. Finally, the key turned.
It was now or never, Rohan thought, ready to lunge. At that moment, Tibolt raised his head, smiled and pointed the gun at Susannah’s chest. “Yes, Rohan, just try it.”
Rohan held up his hands, not moving. He watched Tibolt push up on the lid of the cask. He saw that Susannah had raised herself up and was staring at that cask.
“Are you all right, Susannah?”
“Yes, but a bit blurry.”
Tibolt wasn’t looking at any of them now, but he held the pistol close to Susannah’s breast.
He stared down into the cask. His eyes widened, overwhelming joy broke over his face. “The Devil’s Vessel,” he said, his voice exultant. “Yes, yes, it is exactly as I had imagined it to be.” He was caressing it with his hands. “So old, so blackened, just as it should be. I never believed it had anything to do with the devil, but we will soon see.”
“What is it?” Rohan took a step forward.
32
“DON’T MOVE, BROTHER.” SLOWLY, TIBOLT LIFTED A very old goblet from the reliquary. It was gold, but so old that it was seamed in black. It was plain, no ornament, no jewel to decorate it. It stood about eight inches high. It was tarnished, but somehow it seemed to shine in the dim light.
“So this is the Devil’s Vessel,” Phillip said. “It is indeed a vessel, a goblet, a very old cup. But what is its significance? What is it?”
“We will soon see. Take the goblet, Susannah. Yes, be very careful. As Derencourt says, it is so very old.” Tibolt reached into his pocket and drew out a flask. “Hold the cup steady.” He poured only a few drops into the goblet.
“And now, we will see,” Tibolt said. “You will drink from the goblet, Susannah.”
Rohan was frantic. “No, Susannah, don’t drink!”
Tibolt cocked the gun and aimed it at her head. “Actually, Rohan, it’s holy water, not poison. Now, Susannah, you will drink or I will shoot Rohan.”
“Susannah, you will not give yourself in my place. You will not be the sacrifice. Throw the goblet down.”
“If you care so very much for him, Susannah, you will drink now or he will die.”
She looked at Rohan. He was pale, ready to leap upon Tibolt, but for Phillip’s hand on his arm. “It will be all right,” she said, “I promise you it will be all right.” Then she smiled at him and raised the goblet to her mouth. She let the cool water touch her lips. It tasted strangely sweet.
“Drink it all,” Tibolt said. “Now, damn you.”
She tilted the goblet and drank down the few drops, then she swallowed.
Tibolt said nothing, he only stared at her. “Put the goblet back into the cask.”
She did as he instructed.
“Now stand up, Susannah.”
“It was poison, wasn’t it, you damned little sod?” Phillip grabbed Rohan’s arm, jerking him back.
“Wise of you, Derencourt. I hesitate to make my brother a cripple.” He turned to Susannah. “You look quite fit.”
Susannah was looking only at her husband. “I will be all right. Don’t worry, Rohan.”
Tibolt was right, Rohan thought. She looked quite fit. Her eyes were sparkling with light and determination. Then he prayed. Who the hell knew what that liquid was?
Tibolt said nothing more, merely backed away from the three of them and leaned against the passage wall. He kept the gun pointed at Susannah.
Suddenly, he shouted, “I was right! By God, those old fools had it all wrong. For centuries they had it wrong! I’ve won!”
They stared at him in confusion. Rohan yelled at him, “What do you mean, you’re right and the old fools were wrong? What are you talking about?”
“This,” Tibolt said, scooping the reliquary up under his arm, “isn’t the Devil’s Vessel. Oh, no.”
“What is it?” Susannah said. “What is that goblet? Why did you make me drink holy water out of it?”
“I made you drink the holy water to ensure that it wasn’t a tool of the devil, fashioned to destroy anyone who drank from it. That’s been the legend passed down—that anyone who drinks from the goblet dies a vile death. But it was a lie, passed down by all those old fools so no one would search for it. Just look at you—you didn’t die, you didn’t even sicken. You survived. You look healthier than you did before you drank from it. There is this light in your eyes that you didn’t have before.”
“This is nonsense, Tibolt,” Rohan said.
Tibolt only laughed. He paused a moment, looking at each of them in turn. “This divine magic isn’t dangerous at all. This will give me immortality. This will make me the most powerful man on this earth.”
He laughed even as he grabbed Susannah’s arm and jerked her toward him. “You want to know, don’t you? You want to know what it is, what it represents. The lot of you are too stupid to figure it out. None of you has the vision to grasp what you were really dealing with, much less understand it.
“All the clues were there, all of them, but you saw nothing. Now it doesn’t matter. It’s mine, all mine!”
“What is it, damn you?” Phillip shouted at him.
Tibolt ignored him, saying, “Now, Susannah, you and I are leaving here. Don’t move, Rohan. She’s coming with me. Any of you think to attack me, think again.”
She didn’t move.
“Get up and walk or I’ll shoot your damned husband! I will kill him, you know.”
“Susannah, love, are you all right?”
He’d called her love. She raised her head and gave him a blinding smile. “Yes,” she said. “I’m all right. Don’t worry about me.”
“He had better worry about you, Susannah. If you don’t do exactly as I tell you, I will hurt you badly. To kill a little whore like you wouldn’t bother me at all. You do know that now, don’t you, brother?”
Rohan nodded. “Yes, but it’s difficult to accept. When did you change, Tibolt?” He wondered if Tibolt would answer him. He desperately wanted time, just moments of time in which Tibolt might look away or trip or be distracted enough so that he could leap upon him. To his surprise, his brother laughed, then shook his head. “You fool. I didn’t change. I simply went underground and waited. I knew there must be something for me, and there was.” He whispered, “I have it now, no one else. It’s mine.” He shook his head, his eyes clearing. “Now my every wish will come true.”
“You will not tell us what it is?”
They knew Tibolt was playing with them, taunting them. He just smiled at them, clearly enjoying himself.
“Did you kill Bishop Roundtree?”
Tibolt flicked a glance toward Phillip. He laughed again and shook his head. “No, you’ll not want to believe it, but it was his little butler, Roland, who killed him. I came in on them after the little sod had struck the bishop in the center of the forehead. He was whimpering like a lost little boy, the pitiful sod, was rocking back and forth over the bishop’s body while he sobbed in his hands. I told him to keep his mouth shut and he just might get away with it. Then I searched and searched the bishop’s study. I found nothing, as you well know, since you did. I left but moments before you arrived. I assume that Roland had cooked up an excellent tale for you and the magistrate?”
“I don’t believe you,” Susannah said. “No, Roland was much affected by his master’s death. He found his body and vomited. He cried and cried. He was distraught. No, it wasn’t Roland, it couldn’t have been.”
“The bishop,” Tibolt said, contempt deep in his voice, “was a damned pederast. Roland suited his fancy for a while, and so he took him in. But then he found Teddy, through our careful planning, naturally, and was preparing to send pretty little Roland on his way. It still amazes me how Teddy managed to flirt with the old bastard without vomiting, but he did. The bishop wanted him powerfully bad. And when the bishop told Roland, the miserable little bastard killed him in a jealous rage. Enough of this,” Tibolt said. “The two of you stay right where you are. Susannah, carry the branch of candles. I’ll be right behind you.” Then
he blew out the single candle. Soon Rohan and Phillip were plunged into darkness.
“Stay by the skulls, gentlemen, or I’ll shoot the little whore.”
Rohan immediately took off his boots. He held them in one hand and began walking soundlessly after Tibolt. Phillip quickly followed suit.
The walk back to the ladder seemed to take only a moment. Suddenly he heard a shriek, and Susannah came hurtling into him, knocking them both back against Phillip.
They heard Tibolt talking to the man above him—it had to be Theodore Micah. They heard the ladder being hauled up, the scraping of the wooden rungs against the edge of the open tomb.
“What is the damned cup?” Phillip shouted up at him.
Tibolt laughed, an eerie sound, for he was now above them. “Good-bye, Rohan.” Then, louder than a clap of thunder, the stone crashed down.
They were plunged into the blackest pit of hell.
“I really don’t like the dark,” Phillip said. “Even as a boy I hated the dark. Really.”
“Susannah, are you all right?”
“Yes, but I agree with Phillip. I’ve never seen black this black. It’s very frightening.”
“That’s my hand, Rohan, not your wife’s.”
“Oh, sorry. At least we’re all here and alive.”
Susannah said slowly, “He toyed with us. He isn’t sane, Rohan. We must get out of here and find him. We must. We must save the cup.”
He couldn’t see her, but her voice was intense, filled with purpose. “Yes, you’re right. He’s proved that he’s quite mad. Do you feel all right, Susannah?”
She felt his fingertips tracing over her face. She kissed his palm. “Oh, yes, I feel wonderful.”
“Now let’s get out of this place. We’ve been in one direction, and it ended in a wall of skulls. We must go the other way.”
“I don’t suppose I could hoist you up on my shoulders, Rohan, and you could push open the stone?”
“We could try, but I doubt it.”
“If we don’t find another way out,” Susannah said, her fingers still clutching his sleeve, “we can try it. I’m very strong. You’ll see.”
The Wild Baron Page 32