The Cistercian Conspiracy

by Gill Jepson

  *

  “So it is true! There is a tunnel from the abbey. I know Nate said he had been in it, but I thought he was exaggerating,” cried Rob.

  “Aye of course ’tis true silly lad!” said the innkeeper, “They monks were master builders and engineers. ’Twas no effort for them to make tunnels for mining… and smuggling.”

  Rob was a little annoyed at his dismissive comment, even if he was his great, great, great… granddad.

  “The monks were honourable men! They surely did not smuggle!” argued Sir James.

  “Aye that they did yer honour… they was great smugglers. Why dost tha think they built yon castle?” he waved towards Piel, “’Twas a great storehouse, fortified and they ran wool out and wine and brandy in… they were not for paying the King’s duty on’t and rightly so!”

  James looked scandalised and Rob thought it probably was true, after all they had become the second richest abbey in the land and corruption was one reason for the Dissolution. Tom shook his head in disgust and privately thought if he had been the Preventive man in those days they would not have got away with it.

  “If thou art clever, tha canst slip into the farm without bein’ seen. If tha uses the tunnel

  that leads from the abbey. ’Tis simple, these tunnels have long been used and ’tis not so long since Swarbrick used ’em so they’ll be shored up and safe,” Jackson seemed excited by the prospect. His eyes glinted greedily at the thought of what he might gain from this venture.

  *

  He lifted a trap door in the floor, sending the dust and debris of months flying across the flagstones and into the air. Dolly coughed and waved her hand in front of her face.

  “I see thou dost not value cleaning over much Father!”

  Jackson grinned, “There be only me girl, why would I waste time on sweeping, the customers I get don’t bother with fripperies.”

  She coughed again and looked sadly at the old man.

  He scuttled down into the cavernous cellar, where she and Tom had been imprisoned by the smugglers once. He returned with a length of rope and two old lanterns. He was evidently keen to help them in their enterprise.

  *

  Tom took the lanterns from him and passed one to Rob, as he reached for the rope the old chap slung it over his own shoulder. He stood with the same determined look his daughter had displayed earlier.

  “What are you doing John? We must be on our way,” asked Tom guessing the answer.

  “I be coming with ye! We can use the cart… and I do know where the entrance is to the tunnel,” he paused, his expression mournful. “An’ I want to make amends to thee and Dolly; I swear I can be of assistance.”

  Tom and Dolly looked at each other. Dolly’s expression melted a little and Tom had not the heart to deny his request.

  “Ah well, the more the merrier I suppose,” said James.

  “Aye well, if thou canst go at thy age, then I will too!” added Jackson.

  James blustered and his colour reddened in indignation.

  *

  It was a bumpy ride to the abbey, past Parkhouse Grange. The rickety old cart was pulled by an old brown and white horse that appeared to be in no particular hurry. Rob did wonder at one point whether it would be quicker to walk. He and Tom were seated on sacks in the back while Dolly and Sir James were perched on the seat at the front, driven by John Jackson. They rattled along the muddy track to Roose village, which was no more than a few houses, past the Smithy on the hill, which Rob recognised as where the fish and chip shop was in his day. The smith was hard at work and waved when he saw Jackson.

  “You thrown your lot in with the law now Jack? Or hast the Preventive man caught up with thee at last?” he laughed heartily.

  “Nay, I be taking these folk up to Dalton… ’tis market day tha knows!” The lies rolled from his tongue as easily as the waves on the beach, but at least he had not revealed the true reason for their journey.

  “An… they paid good coin fer it!” he added for good measure.

  “Tha’s an owld maggoty reprobate! Dost tha charge thy own kin?” the smith called after him.

  Jackson shrugged and flicked the reins to encourage the horse onwards.

  He chuckled as they rode on up the track. Tom shook his head in disbelief

  *

  They drove past a sprawling farm at the bottom of the hill, a meadow full of colourful wild flowers lay in front of it and the stream could be seen glistening as it wound its way through the valley. James commented on the absence of his railway and both he and Rob recognised Bow Bridge as they rumbled past. They drew near to the old cottage across from the abbey. It looked very different. It was surrounded by a garden with vegetables, chickens ran free on the dusty yard in front and there were more trees. Rob thought it looked like the picture on a chocolate box. The abbey was open and unfenced, but covered with invasive green ivy. Walls rose where there were none, it was overgrown and the stonework hardly visible in some parts, but even in the midst of its unkempt chaos it was still magnificent.

  Jackson lit up his foul smelling clay pipe and wandered over to the cottager who was working in the garden. The two exchanged words for a few minutes and a boy appeared from behind the cottage and unhitched the horse. He led it to some outbuildings alongside and out of sight. Jackson took the lantern and rope and nodded to Tom to do the same. They followed him and walked away from the amphitheatre and straight into the abbey grounds.

  *

  Rob felt a bit guilty, it seemed wrong to be able to access it so easily… and for free. He was astonished to see the abbey in this state. The vegetation was covering it and great heaps of stone lay around, where people had begun to remove it for building work elsewhere. The abbey looked brighter and newer. He mused that they only had a fleeting impression of its beauty and impressiveness in his day and not for the first time wondered what it must have looked like when in use.

  *

  They walked along the rear of the infirmary and up into the abbot’s lodgings, greatly overgrown with brambles and ivy. The old man led them towards the river, choked with weeds but running fast. He jumped down the banking; shadows from the abbey church falling across the stream and making them feel cold. A double arched tunnel only a few feet high opened into the bank above and disappeared towards the way they had come.

  He pulled away some of the undergrowth and revealed the opening. He ducked down and went in bent double.

  “Come then! We have not the whole day, the tunnel fills at certain times and we must be clear by then.”

  They obediently jumped into the stream, which thankfully was low as it was summer. Jackson had disappeared into the tunnel ahead of them, Tom led Dolly next and James reluctantly followed, mourning the damage this would do to his smart leather boots. Rob brought up the rear. Jackson and Tom lit the lanterns; Rob followed the pale light glowing ahead. The tunnel opened wider as they travelled through and the water was shallow. The air was sour and dank and nobody spoke as they walked on. The walls dripped and were coated with black slime, which was not an encouraging sight. Rob recalled the mouse of last night and hoped there would be nothing larger down here. Apart from the meagre light from the lanterns everywhere was palled in thick blackness and silence fell upon them like a cloak. They had been walking for about five minutes, hampered by the dark and water sloshing around their feet, when the tunnel opened into an underground vault. At least here they could stand up. They rested momentarily and could see that other tunnels converged upon this space. They would have found it difficult to orientate and decide which one to take had Jackson not been with them.

  *

  He veered left and they bent low once more, backs aching and knees cramping, but at least they were on their way. Rob reasoned there could not be too far to go if it was a straight line to the farm; it only took fifteen minutes to walk there normally. The tunnel rose slightly and an arch opened in front of them. Rob and James grew excited and pointed at the keystone. On it was carved a sprig of l
eaves and berries… just as they had seen at the farm… so long ago. The others looked curiously at their animated faces…

  “It’s the nightshade… the sign for the chalice! We can’t be far from the farm,” cried Rob.

  “Well, soft lad, we’re in the tunnel that links the abbey to the farm. Just ahead is the bottom of the well tha’s been on about!”

  Cries of approval echoed around the passage.

  “Aye… but tha must be quiet… unless tha wants ’im above to catch on!”

  “Who is ’im …? I mean he?” enquired Rob.

  “Why owld Dixon… farmer… he’s a bigger miscreant than me… and a greedy cove too, ’tis said he dabbles in’t dark arts. If he guesses tha knows where gold lies tha’s done for!”

  Rob and James paled. Dixon? It couldn’t be?

  “Dixon? What is his other name?”

  “Silas… Silas the snake we calls ’im.”

  “It can’t be the same Silas Dixon we defeated! He hails from thy time does he not?” asked Tom.

  “I don’t know… nothing would surprise me!”

  Dolly took charge. She brought them back to the job in hand and insisted they decide who was to go forward to retrieve the chalice.

  “This tunnel must lead to the well… as thou said. So who is to go? You did say ’twas cramped… I am the smallest so I do believe ’should be me.”

  “Nay, lass thou canst not go… ’twould not be safe!” her father insisted.

  “I’ll go,” said Rob.

  “Well, so be it… but I shall be behind thee,” said Tom.

  *

  They were about to set off through the archway when Dolly slipped past them faster than an eel and just as slippery. Tom cried out, anguished that his wife was putting herself in danger. He grabbed the lantern and followed her with Rob fast on his tail. As they moved forward the tunnel shrank in size and it was dark as night. They soon caught up with Dolly but could not persuade her to return to where James and her father waited. They pressed on and could hear the sound of water running ahead of them. The tunnel diminished to a very tight space and ahead they could see a curved wall. They ascertained that this must be the well. There appeared to be some kind of lever and pulley system to allow entrance from the well to the tunnel.

  *

  The space in the passage was very narrow and both men had to stop. Dolly had been right. She was the only one who would fit. She pushed her way through, her long skirt dragging in the mud and water. Rob realised that she was approaching the place where the chalice lay from the other direction to which George had come from. As she reached the well wall she peered around looking up and down for the sign. Suddenly, she cried out.

  *

  “There’s a carving… it’s the same as the one on the arch.”

  “Brilliant! Try and release the stone. George told us the chalice was behind it…”

  The words dried up almost before they were out. At the same time Dolly reached above her and touched the stone. There was a rumble and a flash of light and her hand touched another hand. Rob froze and he could hardly be more astonished. An ethereal shape crawled through the newly opened door into the well. It was George.

  “George!” yelled Rob.

  The boy seemed not to see him. Dolly had not moved. Tom was silent behind him. It looked like a tableau in a wax museum. As George moved the stone it revealed a gap from which something heavy fell, hitting him on the forehead. Dolly moved her hand and pressed the brick. The brick slid back – just as if George had not moved it at all. The object fell and she caught it deftly. The air vibrated and Rob was overcome by dizziness. He watched as George faded and Dolly reanimated. The chalice was in their hands at last.

  What he had seen was the reversal of the other discovery. They had altered time by retrieving the treasure in an earlier time. He wondered if this had changed things in his century too. He certainly hoped so. Dolly scrambled back to where they crouched and gestured them to move out. They returned to where Jackson and James were patiently waiting. The excitement was overwhelming, James was delighted and even Jackson smiled.

  “Well ye have what ye came for… we’d best get on and get thee back home,” said Jackson.

  They made their way back through the tunnel in silence. Their prize was safe, but they all recognised the feelings of apprehension and anti-climax.

  They emerged from the culvert they had started from, a lot dirtier and more dishevelled than they had been earlier. The light made them wince as they came into the abbey again. They climbed up onto the bank and sat down for a moment to rest. Dolly unrolled the wrapping from the chalice and it glinted in the sun. It was remarkably shiny for something that had been concealed underground for so long. The cawing of magpies echoed around the high walls of the church like an alarm. Dolly wrapped it up quickly again and Rob’s eyes darted around to see where the birds were. He sincerely hoped they did not signify danger as they did in his time, but he already knew the answer in his heart. The sun warmed them quickly and their wet shoes and clothes began to dry, but they did not feel the comfort of it. It only took them minutes to return to the cart.

  *

  Dolly jumped into the back and hid the treasure beneath the old sacks and sat down on top of it. So she was aware of the danger too! The cackling of the magpies travelled through the warm air from the trees making the hair on the back of Rob’s neck stand on end. He wanted to get away as speedily as they could. Jackson had gone to the yard to retrieve his horse and was leading it back to hitch it to the cart. He faltered for a moment and then pulled the reins to lead the old nag on. James climbed up to the seat in front but Rob stood firmly by the cart.

  *

  From behind the cottage a figure appeared. He was a familiar figure, the balding head and hawk like nose, tall and imposing, but dressed in coat and britches as any self-respecting farmer of the eighteenth century would be. It was Silas Dixon, in the flesh.

  As he drew nearer Rob’s blood ran cold. The man stopped close by the cart and Dolly shuffled uncomfortably, spreading her muddy skirt to ensure the chalice was hidden.

  “What brings thee here Jackson? Up to no good I’ll warrant!” he sneered.

  Rob looked at him closely. He did not appear to recognise him.

  “Not that it be any business of thine… we bin t’ market at Dalton and took our ease here,” retorted Jackson.

  “Humph!” grunted Silas. “Well where’s thy wares then? Or was the market sold out? An’ didst tha fall in Mill Beck on thy way?” He looked them up and down, noticing their wet and muddy clothes.

  “Aye… that’s just about reet!” chortled Jackson, “We’ll be on our way, can’t be dilly dallying with thee Silas.”

  With that he jumped up on the cart and beckoned Tom and Rob to do the same. Silas stared at them, his face unreadable. Behind him a magpie landed on the gatepost and cackled noisily, trying to attract his attention.

  John Jackson snapped the reins twice and whistled, the old nag startled into motion. They rolled along the lane innocently. Dolly was red faced and her blood ran hot and cold for fear of discovery. It was as though the chalice was crying out to be found; she spread her skirts more widely to obscure the sacking beneath which the chalice lay. Dixon watched them leave and was still observing them as they turned the corner into the edge of the woodland covering the edges of Beckan’s Gill.

  Nobody spoke or breathed until they were out of sight.

  “That was close!” gasped Rob, “I was sure he would ask us what was in the cart.”

  “Aye ’twas a tense moment, I’m sure that magpie was speaking to him – vile creature!”

  As she spoke two flew above them and dived in an out of the trees. Tom waved his hat at them to shoo them away and as he did so a sleek black raven glided down from the higher branches and cut through the air between them. They screeched raucously and flapped their wings furiously to escape from the huge bird. He landed lightly on the end of the cart like a lone sentry. The group were
heartened by his arrival.

  *

  Onward they went until they reached Tom’s cottage at Moorhead. Jackson drove off the track and into the makeshift courtyard at the side. He untethered the old horse and Tom led him to the water trough in the yard by the pump. Jackson stood uneasily as the others got down from the cart and made their way to the cottage. Nathaniel, Dolly’s young son ran from where he had been playing in the dirt with the other children and reached up to be lifted. Jackson bowed his head. This was his first encounter with his little grandson. Dolly smiled and beckoned him to follow.

  *

  As they reached the door she handed the boy to him and said, “Meet thy grandson… Nathaniel.” The boy laughed and reached out a chubby hand to him. Jackson took it in his bear like paw and shook it gently.

  “Thy Ma would have been proud… he’s a bonny lad.”

  They all retired inside and Dolly set to making food for her guests. The chalice was revealed and placed on the table for the time being.

  Very soon they were sharing bowls of pottage, which Dolly had left simmering on the hearth. It was like a lumpy soup or stew, with no meat to be found. It consisted of leeks, cabbage and onions, there was a hint of wild garlic and herbs but the flavour was fairly bland never the less. It was eaten with hunks of rough bread, which tasted a little gritty to Rob, but he could not deny that it was quite filling.

  *

  When they had finished they discussed the next plan of attack. This must involve returning Rob and James to their own times. They had to remove the threat of the Silas they had just met from stealing the chalice back. Tom suggested they rest for the night and see what they could work out the next day. Neither James nor Rob was very keen on this idea, but there seemed to be no alternative. They said goodbye to Dolly’s father and as he turned to leave she pecked him on the cheek. He smiled and acknowledged her gesture. Rob was pleased that they had now put aside their differences and were friends again. He knew from his own experience that life was too short to harbour grudges and nurse old wounds.