Trunks of Ages: The Seven Seals

by Mary Beth Frank

Early the next morning, the waters of Tremadog Bay were unusually still, waiting for the brisk chilly winds to kick up and paint the normal winter picture of white caps and rushing water against the Welsh shores. Jerold stood on the porch of the hotel, letting his lungs absorb the salty air, smiling at the peace of this small village and its history. He loved when his job took him to places like Harlech, places where the people lived simply; never flinching at the centuries of artifacts and ruins they lived amongst.

  Jerold watched the water, as sunlight danced across the smooth glassy surface, creating tiny rainbows of swirling light that bounced from one small wave to the next. Beth was out jogging, running through the center of town before everyone was up and starting their business day.

  Lost in thought, he looked down the winding drive that led to town and saw Beth coming up from her run. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He sighed, taking in her perfection. She was so beautiful he could barely believe that she was his, even after all these years. Meeting his gaze, he saw the blood rushing to her checks. This made him chuckle. He could still make her blush. She jogged up the steps and placed her lips on his cheek. Her sweaty scent overpowered the smell of the bay, and Jerold smiled, teasingly, “You need a shower!”

  Beth pretended to be chagrined, whipped him with her sweat rag, and ran up the stairs to their room.

  After breakfast, they walked toward the castle ruins carrying their packs of supplies and water. They had planned on being out through lunch, weather permitting, and had dressed warmly knowing the winds would be stronger at the top of the castle wall. They met with the guard at the entrance gate and showed him their credentials and passes. He waved them on and they made a quick tour of the ruins, familiarizing themselves with the details and layout. Jerold thought he could walk this castle in his sleep, having stared at their map for weeks now. Beth started taking notes and Jerold began searching for markings that would give them some clues of the past. They came on the 200-foot stairway that was used to supply the castle from ships bringing goods. It used to run straight to the edge of the sea, but over the centuries the waters had receded almost two miles. Jerold touched the stone as they walked around the ruins of the great hall on the main level. He thought about the labor-intensive construction methods used in those days and shook his head in wonder at how such feats were possible. He knew that Master James had started this construction at the same time as two other castle projects, a fact that made him marvel at the genius of the crafter. He ran his thumb over a stone in the fireplace of the great hall and traced one of the “signatures” a mason had left. Each mason had a sign of his own and would etch it into the stone before it was laid in place. This would help other laborers know who had been working on a particular project. Beth and Jerold had taken some notes about other carpenters and skilled laborers whom James had brought with him from Savoy to help in the castle projects. Although the information was interesting, he doubted it would be of much use in finding the trunk. They came to the chapel and stood looking around trying to figure out where the altar was and how it was originally laid out. Finally, Jerold had seen enough and was eager to get to their search.

  “Let’s go to the gatehouse and see what’s up there.”

  “Yeah, I think I have a good idea how these rooms would’ve been set up.” Beth tucked her notebook into her pack and walked out, followed by Jerold.

  Once they reached the second level of the gatehouse, they peered in and out of the chambers that would have housed the few guests Harlech could have managed. It wasn’t a big castle, at least in comparison to the size of Conwy or others Master James had built. Their research suggested that Harlech only housed 30 or fewer soldiers at any given time, relying on the sea and cliffs to provide a natural defense system.

  They came to the largest of the chambers and ran their hands over the chipped stone blocks that made up the walls. During life at the castle, these walls would have been covered in stained plaster, looking something like paint, and would have had large elegant tapestries hung throughout the bedroom. The rooms would have been filled with elaborate hand-carved furniture and wardrobes. Jerold walked over to the large rectangular crevice in the far wall, knowing this would have been the fireplace and thought perhaps he could find a loose stone or secret compartment. Although he figured that would be too easy and obvious, he quickly abandoned the thought and turned to see what Beth was looking at. She was staring out the window that looked over the bailey, which was the old term for the grassy courtyard most castles had within the interior walls, outside of the keep. She was deep in thought. Suddenly, Jerold saw her lean slightly out the window, looking straight down from where she stood.

  “Jerold, come look at this.” Beth was still looking down, eyes squinted and focused.

  Jerold walked over to her and tried to follow her gaze to see what she was focused on.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  Beth smiled at him. “Look straight down at the outside wall of the stairs. Tell me what you see.”

  Taking a minute to let his eyes roam over each stone on the wall, he carefully looked at every inch of its surface. Suddenly, his eyes saw it. There in the middle of the wall was a small stone pushed out slightly farther than the rest, but so insignificant it wouldn't be noticeable at first glance.

  “Could it be?” Jerold shot a glance at his wife.

  “I was thinking that she wouldn’t hide it in the room. It was too obvious. She must have been in a hurry, to have left the trunk behind. So, I thought what if she found a hiding place without anyone knowing; something discreet? I was thinking about this on my run this morning. When we came up here, I realized you can see most of the bailey from her window. She could have sat here and studied for hours where to hide her trunk, if she knew that she was leaving it behind. It was just a wild theory, but look!”

  Jerold grabbed her hand and they ran down to the bailey, to the outside wall of the gatehouse stairs. They couldn’t reach the stone, but quickly retrieved a ladder from the staff shed. Jerold climbed up to the spot and jiggled the stone. It easily popped out of place, making him grateful for the work this saved him. He also pulled several stones loose on either side. He turned on his head lamp, shining it inside the hole that he had just created. He gasped when he saw the familiar oval-shaped trunk laying a few feet within.

  “Beth, it’s here and you won’t believe this. It’s open!”

  Beth’s eyes were huge. Jerold climbed down and let her take a look for herself. Suddenly she was halfway through the hole, wedging her small frame through the opening. Then her feet left the ladder and her whole body disappeared from sight.

  Jerold stood leaning against the wall, waiting for his wife to reappear. He tried not to be anxious, letting her revel in discovering the contents within. Finally growing impatient, Jerold climbed up the ladder to find Beth leaning over the trunk, flipping furiously through papers and books. His light made her glance up, revealing the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Beth crawled toward him and shoved a stack of papers at his face. She pointed to a black and white photo of a woman surrounded by children, being honored with some award. The lady looked familiar, but Jerold couldn’t quite place it. Beth’s finger moved from the picture to the caption below. He narrowed his eyes to read, “Makayla Hanks.”

  Jerold felt his heart fall like a boulder tumbling over a cliff, falling to a bottom that didn’t exist. “What is this?”

  Beth whispered, “Jerold it's our kids. He’s after our kids.”

  Jerold glared at his wife. “What?”

  “Everything in this trunk is about Makayla, but in the future. I have no idea how a trunk left in the 13th century has articles about our daughter from the 21st century, but it does. There must be something infinitely more powerful than we could have ever imagined behind all this.” Beth paused, and then gasped. “What about the other trunks
?”

  Jerold thought for a moment, and then a look of panic shot across his face, “Oh, no!”

  “What?” Beth groaned.

  “Didn't the tags on the other trunks have initials on the front as well? How could I have missed this? What if those initials belong to each one of the kids?”

  Beth gasped, but then thought it through. He knew he was right when he heard her choke back her tears.

  “OK, let’s get out of here. We’ll have the trunk removed and sent back.”

  “No! We can’t give Tildon this trunk! It’s open and we can’t let him know we have any idea what’s going on. We have to stall. We need to go home and make sure the tags match all the children’s names. But how do we keep him from getting the other trunks? He knows where they are being stored and knows everything about what we have done thus far.”

  Jerold nodded and knew she was right. He wasn’t sure how Tildon was involved or what all this meant, but he did know that they had to keep the trunks and their discoveries a secret as long as they could. At least, keep him from this most recent discovery, especially since there was still one more trunk to recover. They wouldn’t have much time, as Tildon's associate in Wales would probably be coming through soon to check on them. Jerold helped Beth out of the hole and they climbed down. Grabbing his phone, he punched in the number to his office at Cornell.

  “Seth, this is Jerold Hanks. Yeah, we’ll be back soon. I need a favor. We need to have all the trunks moved from the storage facility to our home.” Pause. “Yeah, have them take them to the attic.” Pause. “I want to do some work on them over break.” Pause. “Yeah, OK. Oh, and don’t mention this to Tildon. I don’t want him to freak out over nothing. Thanks!” Jerold snapped his phone shut. He then opened it again, dialing another number.

  “Alice? It’s Jerold. We are on our way home. We have a crate being shipped to the house. Please have the shippers take it to the attic and open it and then remove the packing. Yeah, we should be there in a couple of days.” Pause. “Don’t tell the kids. We want to surprise them.”

  Jerold snapped his phone shut for the second time and shoved it into his pocket. He grabbed Beth and they both ran for their hotel, wondering why their mysterious employer would be after a bunch of trunks that apparently seemed to involve their children.