The Bone House

by Stephen R. Lawhead

  So, if Kit had made it to the ley ahead of the chase, why the devil was he not here waiting for her?

  The only explanation was that Kit had left the trail and gone off somewhere into the valley. Searching for him there would be a chore, and one she was not prepared at the moment to undertake. She glanced down at the smooth-tooled object filling her palm—the new ley lamp Rosenkreuz had made for her. Although roughly the same size and shape as before, it boasted a few improvements, most of which she looked forward to trying. The chief difference in the new model was a second row of little lights, which, she was told, glowed from yellow to red in the presence of the searched-for traveller. The young alchemist had offered to explain the mechanics of its operation, but with everything going on, there had been neither time nor inclination.

  In any event, she had been able to get Giles bandaged, medicated, and tucked away without Burleigh tumbling to the fact that she was in cahoots with the two fugitives. Lady Fayth, a willing accomplice, had helped—unwittingly, true, but necessarily. If Haven had known the full extent of Wilhelmina’s involvement she might not have been such a keen collaborator. If things had fallen out differently, Mina would have been forced to join Kit and Giles on the run. But the young lady had kept her head and, when it mattered, backed Wilhelmina’s risky play to the hilt.

  Now Mina cast yet another longing look down the trail and, with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her big brown eyes, trudged down the trail and into the valley. When she reached the bottom she paused and then shouted for Kit. She listened, then repeated the call. Satisfied that if he had been within the sound of her voice he would have answered, she moved on—eventually coming to the little half-abandoned village.

  The settlement was one of several that seemed to have been settled and constructed by country folk in the region. The few who lived there maintained fields on the riverbanks and on the highlands above. The river provided water for a mill, duck ponds, and a little fishery. She had met some of the inhabitants, and they in turn were used to seeing her now and then; they were simple, peaceable folk who kept to themselves and avoided conflict and confrontation—which is why Mina had felt good about sending Kit and Giles here. They were unlikely to get into difficulties with the locals.

  She walked along the valley floor, following the river and calling for Kit. There was never any reply. After walking a mile or more in one direction, she turned and repeated the procedure in the opposite direction. At the end of the exercise, with darkness falling, she returned to the ley and made a last call for Kit to hurry or miss his rescue. She waited. As before, there was no answer.

  Turning on her heel, she took up the ley lamp and, in four quick strides, departed the valley for home.

  By the time she returned to Prague, the sun had risen on another day. At the city gates she joined the trickle of farmers fresh from the fields, trundling produce to market in barrows and donkey carts. She walked through the old town as the day’s traders were setting up their stalls in the square; she greeted those she knew and promised to return later to buy. Etzel was just opening the Grand Imperial Kaffeehaus, removing the shutters and pulling down the green awning she had designed and Herr Arnostovi had commissioned to be built and installed.

  “Good morning, mein Schatz,” she chirped, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Ach! Wilhelmina, you are here!” Relief pinwheeled over his round face. “I did not see you return last night—all the kerfuffle—I was worried something might have happened to you.”

  She smiled and patted his arm reassuringly. “Nothing is going to happen to me. Remember what I told you?”

  “If I should turn around and find you gone,” he said, repeating her words by rote, “I am not to worry. You will always come back.”

  “I will always come back,” she echoed. Then, on impulse, she gave him another kiss. He stared at her, blinking in the early-morning light. “That is a sacred promise, Etzel. I will always come back.”

  “Ja, I believe you,” he said, dropping his head shyly. “But sometimes I think it might be better if I helped you with this . . .” He searched for a word. “This work that you do.”

  “I know, Liebling,” she said, resting her hand on his arm and feeling the warmth there. “Maybe someday you will. But for now, there is too much I do not understand, too much I must learn—”

  “I could help you learn these things, I think.”

  She smiled. “You are helping me. You help me more than you can possibly know just by being here when I come back.”

  “But maybe—”

  “It is true, Etzel. I need you to be here, to be my rock and my anchor. One day I will tell you all about my other work. But for now it must be this way.” She held his eyes with her own, willing him to understand. “All right?”

  “Of course, meine Liebste.” He gave her a small, contrite smile. “If that is what you want. You know I cannot refuse you anything.”

  She gave him a pat on the arm. “And I will try never to ask you for anything you would not willingly give.” Mina moved to the door of the shop. “I am famished. I could eat a horse—nose to tail.”

  “There is fresh bread and good sausage,” Engelbert told her, resuming his work of pulling down and spreading the heavy cloth awning. “I will join you when I have finished here.”

  Mina paused in the kitchen on her way through the coffeehouse. She greeted the staff and commended them to their labours, then went upstairs to change her clothes and to check on her injured guest. Thanks to her cunning intervention and Lady Fayth’s help, Giles was not only alive, he was safe in Wilhelmina’s care. Left to Burleigh, she had no doubt Giles would be pushing up daisies.

  “Do you really want the city militia nosing around in your business?” she had asked.

  “What is that to you?” Burleigh had asked, bristling with belligerence.

  Knowing she skated on very thin ice, she had shrugged. “Nothing. I don’t know the man. But I know the city bureaucracy. He’s been seen, and questions will be asked. If you wanted him dead you should have killed him when you had the chance. It’s too late now.”

  “She is right,” Lady Fayth chimed in.

  Turning to Wilhelmina, he had asked, “Could you take care of him?”

  “Me?” She feigned surprise. “I have a peaceful life here. I don’t want any part of this.”

  Burleigh stared at her so hard she thought he had worked out the ruse. But then he pulled her aside and said, “I want him gone. See to it.”

  “Why should I? This is nothing to do with me.”

  “You have friends in high places. I wonder what these friends of yours would say if they knew the truth about you.” He gave her a sly, knowing look. “What would happen to your peaceful life then?”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, I could think of all manner of things to tell them.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do you know what they do to witches here?”

  Wilhelmina bit her lip.

  Lady Fayth, who had been watching this exchange, said, “Giles was just my uncle’s coachman. He knows nothing. Please, Archelaeus, let him go.”

  “Very well,” the Black Earl relented. To Wilhelmina, he said, “I don’t care how you do it, but I want him gone. Disappeared.”

  “I got it,” Wilhelmina replied petulantly. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

  The two had left then, consigning the wounded man to Mina’s care. The barely conscious Giles had been carried to an upstairs bedroom, and Wilhelmina joined him there to assess the damage. He had been shot through the upper shoulder, the pistol ball passing through the muscle back to front, nicking his collarbone and making a mess of his pectoral muscle, but high enough to miss his lung and any major arteries. The ball had exited the wound, so she did not think he would suffer lead poisoning. He might well die of septic infection, however, if she could not keep the wound clean. To aid in this, she fetched a generous portion of Engelbert’s excellent schnapps, in which she soaked Giles’
bandages. She also gave him a sip of laudanum to lull the pain and then, as the wounded man drifted off to sleep, she had gone out to bring Kit home.

  Wilhelmina moved to stand beside the invalid’s bed; she put a hand to his forehead and with some relief determined that there was as yet no fever. The patient stirred at her touch and surfaced from his groggy sleep. Momentarily confused, he started up. Pain instantly grabbed him. His face contorted, and he fell back once more with a groan.

  “Easy there,” Wilhelmina told him. “You’re safe now. Take a deep breath.” She waited while he pulled himself together. “You’ve had a pretty narrow escape. I gave you some laudanum, and you’ve been asleep. Do you remember what happened?”

  He nodded on the pillow. “Mr. Livingstone . . . did he escape?”

  “Kit got away. Some of the townsfolk think they saw him jump into the river. Burleigh thinks Kit might have swum to the other side. They’ve been looking for him there.”

  Giles licked dry lips.

  “You will be thirsty. I’ll get you some water. Is there much pain?”

  “No, my lady.” He gave his head a feeble shake.

  “Liar. I’ll get you some more laudanum. It makes you groggy, but it will numb the pain.” She put her palm to his forehead again. “Don’t worry. You’re going to get through this.”

  He bent his head to try to see his wound; when that did not work, he touched it gingerly with his fingertips. The touch made him wince.

  “I’m no doctor,” Mina said, “but I don’t think there was very much internal damage. You’ve got a broken collarbone—that seems to be the worst of it. One of the better physicians in the city comes to the coffeehouse every day, and I’ll have him look in on you when he arrives.”

  “Is Burleigh still here?”

  “Don’t you worry about him. He’s out chasing Kit and won’t be coming back here any time soon.”

  “And Mr. Livingstone? Will he come here?”

  “Soon,” she told him. “No. I went to fetch him, but he was not where I told him to be. I don’t know what happened. Probably he just wandered off. I’ll go back and try again as soon as I can.” She turned to go. “But now I’ll bring you the laudanum and some water. You should rest.”

  He nodded. Then, as she left the room, he said, “Thank you, Miss Wilhelmina.”

  “You’re not out of the woods, so don’t thank me yet. You won’t be completely safe until you’re far away from here. We have to get you well enough to travel.”

  “Where am I going?”

  “Home.”

  CHAPTER 32

  In Which Confidences Are Frankly Shared

  I never meant to betray them,” insisted Lady Haven Fayth. “Believe me, I pray you.”

  Wilhelmina regarded her doubtfully. There was much about the young woman to admire—her startling beauty, her quick and ready mind, her formidable strength of will—but there was also much about the russet-haired lady that invited distrust.

  When Mina did not respond to this confidence, Lady Fayth continued. “Our circumstances were desperate, and worse. Poor Cosimo and my dear Uncle Henry were already dead—there was nothing whatever to be done for them—and we were slowly dying of thirst. When the Black Earl condescended to see us, he arrived bearing an offer of survival. Gramercy, I seized the opportunity forthwith, lest it prove a chimera.” She pressed Wilhelmina’s hand earnestly, willing her to accept the truth of what she was saying. “There was no time to explain, I was compelled to act at once.” She frowned, remembering that awful day. “Kit and Giles were no use—all full of affronted bravado and doomed honour—they were no use at all.”

  “That much I do believe,” allowed Wilhelmina. “But why did Burleigh choose you? Why you and not Kit?”

  “We had a glancing acquaintance,” replied Haven, and then went on to explain how she had met the earl previously when he had come looking for Sir Henry at Clarivaux. “It fell out that my father invited him to supper, and I dined with them.” She paused, her expression pleading. “In clearest hindsight, I see that he was seeking to draw my uncle into his nefarious schemes, but there was no hint of it then. Quite the contrary, indeed.”

  “So, Burleigh shows up in Egypt and makes you an offer you cannot refuse, is that it?”

  “But you do see, do you not?” replied Lady Fayth, as if obstinacy alone could persuade. “There was simply no point in all of us dying in that tomb. By remaining alive, I perceived that I might return to rescue the others. That, I most heartily assure you, was my sole hope and most fervent intent.”

  “You meant to come back and free them?” said Wilhelmina dubiously. They were sitting in the Grand Imperial at a table in the rear of the house. It was the middle of the afternoon, the slow time of day; the serving staff were waiting on the few patrons, and Etzel was napping upstairs.

  “It was my plan to return to the tomb as soon as I could slip away from the Black Earl’s knavish clutches.”

  “Then why didn’t you? Why did you wait so long?”

  “Burleigh’s men,” answered Haven readily. “The day after we left the tomb, His Lordship’s hired ruffians arrived in Karnak with the report that the two young gentlemen had died. The disease of the desert tomb had taken its dreadful toll, they said. I was devastated . . . inconsolable, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “To be sure, I knew nothing else until I saw Kit sitting in this very coffeehouse not two evenings ago.” She gazed across the table at Wilhelmina, suitably contrite and forthright. “What is more, I can vouchsafe that Lord Burleigh was ignorant of any other outcome until he was apprised of their presence by his hirelings.”

  Wilhelmina considered this. It was all plausible, and it fit with most of what she already knew. She was inclined to accept that, however self-serving, Lady Fayth was telling the truth—at least insofar as Kit and Giles were concerned. About her involvement with Burleigh, Mina still had doubts about the young woman’s sincerity.

  “The Black Earl was not best pleased with his minions,” Haven continued. “They have been consigned to outer darkness with much weeping and gnashing of teeth—until such time as they can redeem themselves in His Lordship’s sight.”

  “Then I suppose we all owe you a debt of gratitude, my lady,” ventured Wilhelmina.

  “Pray, not so!” she objected. “Kit lost and poor Giles wounded—that is hardly a result worthy of commendation or merit.”

  “It could have been much, much worse,” Wilhelmina conceded. “Thanks to your timely warning, they were able to get away. As to that,” she continued, “what was that package you gave Kit just before he fled the coffeehouse?”

  “Package?”

  “That little parcel . . .” Mina described a small square with her fingers. “What was that?”

  “It was a book.”

  “A book? That’s all?”

  “Oh, not just any book, mind you,” Haven said, then lowered her voice. “It was the green book—that is to say, Uncle Henry’s private journal of his investigations into ley leaping.”

  “By ley leaping, you mean—”

  Haven nodded. “I believe you know well enough what I mean.”

  “Do I?”

  “Do you not?”

  “I do.”

  “I knew it!”

  Lady Fayth took a sip of coffee and resumed her confession. “The Black Earl knows about the green book. He has read it, in fact . . .” She allowed herself a sly smile. “That is to say, he has read the portions I permitted him to read. Certain pages of Sir Henry’s book I thought best to keep to myself.” She finished her coffee and pushed her cup aside. “Do you have any idea where Kit has gone?”

  “Across the river,” Mina hedged. “That’s what they’re saying. No doubt he’ll turn up again once Burleigh has gone.”

  “Yes, well, we must hope and pray he remains out of sight. I do not expect the Black Earl will allow him to escape a third time.”

  “It must have been a sight. What will Burleigh do now?
”

  “Resume his search for the map,” replied Haven. “What else can he do? It is clear that neither Cosimo nor Uncle Henry possessed the map; it was not passed on to Kit. So Cosimo’s portion remains to be found.”

  The young woman stood and brushed her hands down the front of her dress. “I must go. His Lordship will be wondering what has become of me.” She smiled nicely. “Thank you for the coffee, and for your confidence. The knowledge that I have a secret ally in this fight—and mark you it is a most desperate fight—renews my faith and courage.” She took Wilhelmina’s hand. “May I call you my friend?”

  Wilhelmina was taken aback by the question. “Of course.”

  “Good. I like that. I have no other friend in which to confide,” she said. Then, still gripping Wilhelmina’s hand, added, “The burden of the quest is ours now. It falls to us to see it through—for better or worse.”

  Lady Fayth took her leave, and Wilhelmina saw her to the coffeehouse door. “For better or worse,” echoed Wilhelmina, watching as her new ally sailed into the great market square. “We’re in it up to our eyeballs, girlfriend. Be true to me, and I will love you like a sister,” she said under her breath. “Betray me, and you will wish you’d never been born.”

  CHAPTER 33

  In Which Formal Introductions Are Made

  The trees all along the river turned spectacular shades of red, orange, and yellow, and one morning Kit arose to the sight of the leaves falling at once in a silent golden storm. The next day rain came to the valley. A chill north wind stripped the remaining leaves from the trees. The clan gathered all the weapons and tools—the stout spears and axes, the scrapers and pounders, the short, stone-bladed knives—and bundled up their skins and sleeping mats and coils of woven fibre rope, and moved out.