“Water? Hmm? There could be a recurring theme like the spring at St. Bridget’s well. Let’s have a look at this spring, shall we?”
The spring was located in an alcove, a small rectangular room. As Rowena said, Micah saw just a thin trickle of water in the long, deep, stone basin.
He raised the lantern to look at a large, diamond-shaped stone on the wall behind the basin. “Is that a cross?” He leaned forward to study the faint mark on the stone. “It was carved centuries ago, so it seems. It’s barely visible now, it’s so worn. It seems to be a celtic cross. And there,” he pointed to a mark beside it, “is a goddess symbol.”
“Yes, I remember studying the symbols years ago. I thought the same thing. Though it is hard to tell.” Rowena squinted, leaned closer.
“There’s writing underneath.” Micah leaned even closer with the lantern.
“Really? I never noticed.” Rowena leaned as close as Micah was to the stone. “Yes, I believe you’re right, Micah!”
“Avallach.” Micah turned to her. “The old word for Avalon!”
“No?” Rowena muttered in disbelief.
“Yes. Quite so.” Micah traced the engraving with his finger. “See here.”
Rowena looked closer. “Yes, I see it now.”
“The house can’t be that old.” Rowena shook her head.
“The house no, the cellar, yes. It appears to be from pre-Roman or the Roman Britain era, Lady Rowena. The walls of this second cellar chamber appear much older than the first chamber, if not Roman, then before or just after. There, no doubt, are some roman tiles beneath this stone floor. I’d place a wager on it. For the floor appears to be a later addition. And this basement has been reinforced over the centuries. The first cellar room is about thirteenth century by the way the stone blocks were laid. Didn’t William say something like the Dulacs were always tied to the Abbey and Avalon, or was it the Tor. All three probably. I can’t remember the exact words! In any case, the Del Acqs or Du Lacs were always tied with Avalon and the Tor. It’s not surprising that a house has always stood here, nearly at the base of the Tor. This might be the site of the physical House Del Acqs, Lady Rowena. Yes, it is possible.”
“Then if there is a tunnel, and this was the house Del Acqs, an opening to the tunnel should be here in the spring room, or the second chamber, and not the first.” Rowena began to search the empty walls of the small spring room. “For I think a tunnel from a house here to the Tor would have been built very early. By the evidence of a cross and goddess carving, I am thinking Roman, but most definitely pre-Arthurian.”
“I agree with you, Lady Rowena.” Micah moved to the small wall, on the end of the alcove where the spring was housed. “Let me get my bearings, I believe this wall is even with the outside wall above in the library, am I correct?”
“Yes, Micah, I think you’re right.”
“Wincanton, bolt the door down there, we’ve intruders! Protect Lady Rowena!” Lyon’s voice thundered down into the cellar from the floor above.
Micah moved like lightening, “Stay here, Lady Rowena,” he called behind him as he ran through to the next room, then up the stairs, bolted the door, ran back down. He met Rowena as she entered the first chamber to find him and pulled her back into the second cellar room and all the way back into the spring alcove. He doused the lantern.
“Micah. I can’t see anything. Where are you? Why did you douse the lantern?” Rowena whispered nervously.
“It will be difficult for someone to find us in the dark. We have the only lantern that was hanging along the stairs. I’m right beside you, Lady Rowena. Please, do not worry. I will not allow you to be harmed.”
Rowena breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his hand encircle her arm. “Very well.” Although his touch was comforting to her, it did not cause the reaction that Harry’s touch caused her. She wondered was it only Harry Bellingham’s touch that affected her in that way? It seemed so.
The sound of a pistol being cocked alarmed her. “Micah?”
“It’s just me. You know we are all armed now after the incident at the Brides and the Abbey, correct?”
“Yes. I did momentarily forget, but I was aware of it.”
There were a series of scrapes coming from above. Lyon’s voice rose to a shout. Then came a feminine scream. A gunshot! Followed by another. Again, shouting by several male voices. Then another shot. Silence. Footsteps running across the wood floor somewhere above.
“Micah we must get upstairs. Aunt Frances and Sir John! Lyon! We need to help them,” she pleaded.
“I can’t let you go up until I know it is safe, Lady Rowena. Harry would never forgive me if harm came to you. You’re safer down here for the moment.”
“But Harry may even now be coming into the house. He could be in danger.” Rowena sighed in frustration. “I’ll never forgive myself if harm comes to any in my home while I’m hiding down here in the cellar. I’m going up, now!” She removed her arm from Micah’s loose hold and took a few tentative steps forward. Then a couple more. It was so dark. No light penetrated the cellar or spring room. Rowena sighed, grew braver and continued to walk in what she thought was the correct direction. Straight into a wall. “Ooof.” She stepped back. Turned. She whispered a curse as she ran into a wall again. In the complete darkness as she was, Rowena had no idea which way to go. She was lost. Had no idea which direction led from the spring room to the cellar steps in the next room.
She rubbed her arm. Felt it bruising. Her forehead burned a tad. She scraped it when hitting the wall. “Micah, where are you, I’m lost.”
“Here. Right beside you, Lady Rowena. Be patient. And please stop running into the walls.” His fingers circled about her upper arm.
“You allowed me leave your side, why?”
“I knew you’d not get far without light.”
She heard a loud feminine wail from above stairs followed by several frantic voices. Was it Aunt Frances who cried out? More voices raised in panic.
Next came a cacophony of raised male voices, shouting, and talking, all at once. The voices grew louder, seemed closer. A distinct, “Where are they?” was heard clearly. It sounded like Charlie’s voice.
It was at that moment she heard a loud bellow, “Rowena!” from above. It was Harry.
“We’re down here, Harry!” She screamed as loud as she could. “In the cellar.”
The lantern was lit by Micah. Rowena saw Micah uncock his pistol and return it to his coat. Together they rushed through the kitchen storage cellar and up the stairs to the hall door. There was loud banging on the door.
“We’re fine, Harry, let me get the door open.” Micah threw back the bolt, opened the door and ran right into Harry. Harry looked at him, “Are you both unharmed?” After Micah nodded affirmatively, Harry then pushed forward to get to Rowena.
“Rowena!” Harry reached out, engulfed his Lady in his arms. “Oh, thank God! I couldn’t find you. No one knew where you two were.” Harry hugged her to him tightly. He kissed her hair. Sighed in relief.
“Lyon did.” Micah and Rowena said simultaneously. Looked at one another. Then to Harry.
“Lyon was shot,” Harry informed them somberly.
It was then Rowena noticed how pale Harry was. “How bad?” she asked fearfully.
Micah moved beyond Harry and ran down the hall toward the gallery. “Lyon?” “Lyon!”
Harry shook his head. “He’s alive but there’s a lot of blood. Frances sent for the surgeon.”
“I’ll look at him and see if there is anything I can do.” Rowena started to move past Harry. He stopped her by taking hold of her arm. “It looks bad, Rowena. There’s a lot of blood. So much blood.”
She nodded her head. “I’ll be fine.” She laced her fingers through his. Together they walked into the gallery. It mattered not that their hands were still entwined when they entered the room, for no one noticed.
Lyon was hit in the leg, upper thigh to be exact. It was a very nasty wound which left his fle
sh torn and mangled. Charlie tied his cravat around Lyon’s thigh to staunch the flow of blood.
Rowena knelt beside him. She felt of his forehead. “Clammy. Was he unconscious when you found him?” She looked to Harry.
“No. Not all the way. Almost.”
Aunt Frances and Sir John came to hover near. Aunt Frances was trying to be brave, but sniffed and wiped at tears every so often with Sir John’s crumpled handkerchief she held in her hand.
“Aunt Frances, you sent for Doctor Price?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Send for the apothecary, Mr. Smythe, as well. Tell him Lyon was shot in the thigh and has lost a lot of blood and is still bleeding. He might have a poultice to help stop the bleeding. Or something to help restore his strength due to the loss of blood. And Aunt Frances, please have a bed brought to the small parlor. We will keep Lyon there. He won’t need to be going up and down the stairs as he heals.”
“Hanford!” Frances and Sir John hurried toward the entry hall. “Mrs. Brimble!”
“Do you think he will live?” Micah asked softly, his concern evident.
“It looks to be a nasty wound. If we can stop the bleeding and if he doesn’t get an infection. And yes, I believe he will live. We all must believe so. No one is allowed to think otherwise. We cannot give up hope!” Rowena commanded.
Just then Wyldhurst and Newt rushed into the room.
“Did that Bloody Brown Coat say anything worthwhile?” Harry asked angrily.
“Says he was hired by a gentleman. His occupation is safe-cracker and thief. He didn’t know the man’s name. He’s not from here, he’s from London. No names were used in the transaction. He arrived only yesterday. The man gave him the coat and hat to wear. He wanted an old box from the safe.”
“What about the one that got away?” Harry demanded.
“There’s a blood trail for a ways until he got to the trees. Then I lost the trail. Lyon must have fired at him. The man we caught claims he didn’t know the one who got away. Was never given his name. Or so he says. The man was supposed to show him where the safe was. Apparently, they’ve been watching the house from the trees across the road with a spyglass and through the windows when they could manage to get close enough. They guessed the lead box was in here because of the constant watch we’ve been keeping,” Wyldhurst relayed.
“Bloody Hell!” Harry cursed.
Rowena looked to the mantle then. Gasped when she saw William Dulac’s portrait upside down on the floor against the carved stone frontispiece. The safe door was closed. She looked to Harry.
“They did not open the safe. Frances brought Charlie the key. He checked. Our treasure is still there. Problem is, we need to move it and soon. If only the Chynoweths and Elveston would get here!” Harry sighed in frustration.
Frances came back in. “Rowena, Hanford is having a bed carried down as we speak. It will be ready within minutes, ten at the most.”
“Good. We need to make him comfortable.”
Lyon made a strangled sound.
Everyone looked down, including Rowena.
His eyes fluttered open, but remained unfocused.
“Huh? I must be in Heaven, there’s an angel. And everyone figured I was headed straight for…” His voice weakened and trailed off. Then he whispered. Chuckled. “Wait till I tell Harry…”
“It’s all right, Lyon. We’re all here.” Rowena smoothed the hair from his brow. She moved from kneeling to a sitting position upon the floor. She peered at the wound again. “It’s slowed, but it’s still bleeding.” She then noticed the large pool of blood beneath him, soaking into the carpet. “He has lost a lot of blood,” her voice grew thick with unshed tears. She moved back onto her knees. She sighed deeply. “Give me another cravat. Maybe two. I’m going to apply pressure, see if that helps.”
Harry and Micah both removed their cravats, handed them to Rowena.
Wyldhurst spoke. “Do you wish to talk to the Brown Coat before I haul him to the constable, Harry? When I do take him, I’ll just explain the Society is having a meeting here at Stonedown, and that we’ve some historic documents and relics that the thief was after.”
Harry nodded. “Hopefully, that will be enough to appease the Constable. Yes, I want to talk to him. Where is he?”
“Locked in the crypt in the chapel. It was Sir John’s idea.”
“Charlie, Micah, Newt, you stay here with Lyon and Rowena. Wyldhurst, come with me.”
Rowena picked up Lyon’s hand. She rubbed it comfortingly.
His eyes opened again. They remained unfocused. “Lizzie, my sweet, you’ve come to tempt me to your bed have you? Give me a handful of your breasts, wench…”
Rowena gasped. Leaned back out of Lyon’s reach, for his arm lifted as he spoke, his hand reached toward her bosom. She blushed scarlet. “Oh dear!”
Micah swiftly extended his hand to Rowena, helped her to her feet and out of Lyon’s reach. “Hand me the cravats, I’ll apply pressure in your stead, Lady Rowena.”
Again Lyon opened his eyes. “Wincanton! What have you done with Lizzie? And why are you here? You didn’t touch her breasts did you?”
“Ah, no, Lyon. I didn’t. Lizzie had to go. Are you in pain, Lyon?” Micah asked calmly.
“No. I feel nothing. I’m cold. And so sleepy…” His eyes closed again.
“I’ll get a–“ Rowena was about to go hunt down a blanket when Hanford entered the room.
“The bed is ready, my Lady. Shall I bring some men to carry his Lordship to the parlour?” Hanford asked.
“No, Hanford. We’ve got him.” Micah stood. Together, He, Charlie and Newt picked up Lyon and followed Hanford out of the gallery.
Once Lyon was laid on the bed in the small parlour, Rowena left Micah, Charlie and the maids to undress him. He was to be put into a clean nightshirt that belonged to Sir John. Apparently, Lyon did not sleep in any type of night clothing. There was nothing to be found in his room per the maids. She sat on a small chair in the hallway waiting for admittance after Lyon was properly clothed.
That was where Harry found her. He leaned down, kissed the top of her head. “How is he?”
“I don’t know, Harry. I don’t know.” Rowena shook her head. “Doctor Price or Mr. Smythe, the apothecary, should be here by now.” Rowena wrung her hands nervously.
The door opened then. “Harry, get in here. He’s somewhat lucid, you need to hear this.” Charlie motioned Harry in. “I’ll stay in the hall with Lady Rowena.”
Rowena missed the serious look exchanged by Harry and Charlie.
“Lyon?” Harry peered down at his exceedingly pale friend.
“Harry. They said Lady Rowena is safe?”
“Yes, Lyon. Why?”
“Because they wanted the box and her! They meant to take her. I yelled down to Micah to bolt the cellar door. Thank God he did and they didn’t get her…”
“Did they say why?”
“No. No. Just that they were to take her to him.” Lyon closed his eyes again.
“Him who?” Harry beseeched.
Lyon’s eyes remained closed.
“Lyon? Lyon!”
“He’s out again, Harry,” Micah spoke softly. “Lady Rowena cannot be alone, there needs to be two of us with her at all times. You and I can take turns sitting outside her bedchamber at night. I don’t know how far your relationship has progressed, but it would be best if you were in her chamber with her at night. If that is the case, none save you and I ever need know. We need to speak to Lady Sperring and Sir John and the others. Let them know Rowena is in danger. Under no circumstance is she to be left alone. Ever.”
“No. Not for even a minute. And you are right, better if at least two of us are with her at all times.” Harry sighed heavily. “I received a response from Woollard at the Grange after I sent a message informing him of the happenings here. He assured me there will be a guard of ten men posted each night at the Abbey, and eight during the day. I’ll tell Charlie, Wyldhurst and Newt they will ne
ed to alternate keeping watch on the treasure in the gallery day and night. Until we can find a safer place to hide it. Surely Elveston or at least two of Chynoweth’s men shall turn up tonight or tomorrow. Pray God! We’re down a man now. I don’t know, Micah. Whoever this is, they were either idiotic or unusually brave to send two men into this house in broad daylight.”
“Just until someone else arrives, perhaps we can get a cot set up in the gallery so we can keep at least two men there at all times, Harry. One resting, one on duty,” Micah suggested. “I think their aim in daylight was to take us off guard. To use the element of surprise.”
Lord of the Abbey Page 22