by Alex Scarrow
‘Yes?’
‘I have food for ye.’ It was Sébastien Cabot.
‘Ah!’ Liam’s stomach had been grumbling for the last hour. The short winter day had passed without an opportunity to speak with Cabot in private again, and Liam was beginning to wonder whether his decision to overnight in 1194 was going to give them an opportunity to learn any more.
He hopped up eagerly and opened the door leading into their guest quarters.
The young monk he’d seen standing in the priory’s doorway earlier today brought in a couple of wooden bowls and a loaf of bread. Behind him Cabot entered with another bowl and a flagon of something that sloshed around as he placed it on the dirt floor.
‘A hot broth for a cold day,’ he said, ‘and a little mead to warm yer toes.’
Cabot dismissed the boy and then sat down on one of the wooden cots. By candlelight he looked older than he had this morning. The folds on his face, both wrinkles and the long twisting scar, told of a long life, and not much of it lived here in such a lonely and forlorn place.
‘My brothers seemed to have spent more time today gossiping like old women than in contemplation and prayer.’
Liam picked up one of the bowls and hungrily dipped a torn hunk of bread into the thick broth. ‘So, Mr Cabot, you said earlier that you fought alongside King Richard?’
He nodded. ‘Aye.’
‘In a real battle?’
‘Many battles, lad.’
‘But you’re a Cistercian monk, so you are. I didn’t think your kind got involved in wars and fighting.’
Cabot looked up at him. ‘I’ve not always been of this order, lad. Before, two winters gone now, I was one of the Order of Templars.’
‘You were a Templar Knight?’ asked Becks.
‘Not a knight,’ he replied. ‘I am not noble-born. But a sergeant.’
‘Sergeant?’ said Liam, tugging another hunk of crusty bread from the loaf.
‘Information,’ said Bob, ‘sergeant: lower-born professional soldier also serving in auxiliary roles within the order, i.e. maintenance of equipment and property.’
Cabot’s eyes narrowed. ‘Ye have an odd manner about ye, sir.’
Bob returned his stare for a moment, then offered a friendly display of upper and lower teeth.
‘And you fought with Richard, so you said?’
‘On this last Crusade, aye.’ Cabot shook his head wistfully. ‘’Tis the worst of things. Ten years I have been in the Holy Land in the service of Templars. Five years of it peace of a kind. After Saladin took Jerusalem, there was a peace.’
Liam nodded. Adam had given them a history class before they set off. Jerusalem had been besieged by Saladin and his massive army in 1187, and had fallen. After nearly ninety years of Christian rule it was back in Muslim hands. But Saladin had chosen to be shrewd in the matter; rather than slaughter every last Christian in the city, he proclaimed Christians would be at liberty to live there, to worship there. That Christian pilgrims would be allowed to enter the city at will and worship at their sacred sites. All this in the hope that outrage in Europe at the city falling would be somewhat lessened. But he hadn’t figured on the likes of King Richard and King Philip II of France, men who both hungered for battle and glory and a cause to hide behind. The Third Crusade was King Richard’s vainglorious attempt to reclaim Jerusalem, and Acre and Jaffa too – the other major cities taken by Saladin.
‘But with King Richard’s arrival came a bloodshed I have never seen before.’ Cabot’s eyes glistened in the dark. ‘He took Acre. The Saracens surrendered to Richard. And he had every last one of them beheaded. There was a hill of heads, a hill that grew gradually out of the moat and spilled on to the plain.’
Liam looked down at a potato bobbing in his soup and all of a sudden felt a little less hungry.
Cabot sighed. ‘I suspect King Richard came, not for Acre, not even for Jerusalem. He came for what was left behind.’
‘Left behind?’
‘Aye, what was left in haste when Jerusalem and Acre fell to Saladin.’ Cabot’s eyes narrowed. ‘But ye know of this already, yes?’ He smiled drily. ‘Ye claimed to be of the order, earlier. But I can see ye are not.’ He glanced at Bob. ‘And ye, sir, ye have the look of one, but not the manner. How is it ye people know of the order’s most guarded secret?’
Cabot’s gaze returned to Liam. ‘How is it ye would know of … Pandora? Pray tell, who are ye?’
Liam looked to both support units for help, but both of them stared dully back.
Great.
He put the bowl of broth down on the dirt floor. ‘We … Perhaps I better give you the truth.’
Cabot nodded. ‘I think ye better had.’
‘We’ve come from … well, a long way. We came here looking for a document called the Voynich Manuscript, and this may sound very strange, Mr Cabot, but your name is linked to it. Your name is in it for some reason.’
‘I’ve never heard of the thing!’
‘I know.’ Liam nodded. ‘I know. I believe you. But there was something else mentioned in this manuscript.’ He glanced at the support units; neither looked like they were about to caution him to stop. ‘Pandora – what you also called the Word of God when we spoke earlier?’
Cabot was reluctant to speak.
Liam decided to push him. ‘You also called it the Holy Grail?’
‘I cannot speak of these things with ye, lad. ’Tis the Templars’ business alone.’
‘But … it’s not any more, is it?’ Liam couldn’t help a mischievous grin. ‘Your brothers went and lost it, you said?’
Cabot pressed his lips together stubbornly. ‘I cannot talk of such things.’
‘But you did talk about it.’ Liam leaned forward. ‘Look, I think it’s this Grail we need to find. And if your Templar brothers have lost it to some robber, then maybe we can help?’
Cabot laughed. ‘The three of ye? Ye would hunt through all the woods of Nottingham for the Hooded Man and take it back from him?’
‘Affirmative,’ replied Bob.
The old man’s laughter dried up as he stared at the flickering light of the candle between them.
‘There are some fools who say he is but the Devil himself.’ Cabot shrugged. ‘He has attracted men, starving men, into the woods. Men who follow him like a king, like a god because it seems he cannot be killed and because of the raids on the taxmen. They have coin and they have food fighting for him. There are stories that he has a great strength, can tear a man in two with his bare hands. That he can run as fast as a horse can charge … but most of all, that he is immortal, that he cannot be killed.’ Cabot smiled wryly. ‘These are dark, troubled times and people tell stories. The poor, the hungry look to devilish stories like this.’
Cabot sighed. ‘Truth is this Hooded Man, whether ’tis true what they say about him or not, he is stirring up unrest and trouble among the poor and starving. And worse still – he has the Grail.’
Liam chewed silently on his warm broth-soaked bread.
Strong enough to tear a man apart? He glanced at Bob.
Another support unit? Another team in the area?
Cabot suddenly looked at Bob and Becks. ‘Will ye two not eat? Are ye not hungry?’
Both shook their heads. ‘We are fine,’ said Becks.
Liam cleared his throat. ‘You said you wanted to know who we are, Mr Cabot?’
‘Aye.’
‘Well, we’re from the same place as this Hooded Man.’
Cabot stared at him. ‘Ye know him?’
‘Not really. But I think I know what he is.’
‘Tell me, then.’
‘I’m not sure I can, Mr Cabot … It’s very complicated. But I know if we could track him down in all those woods … and if we had enough help, enough people –’ Liam glanced at his support units – ‘I’m pretty sure my friends here could make him hand back what he took.’
Cabot studied them silently for a long while. ‘I have not met the likes of ye before. There
is a very strange manner about all three of ye. I almost half believe what ye say.’
‘Mr Cabot,’ said Liam, grinning, ‘you have no idea how strange we are.’
The man sensed his humour in that and shared the smile. ‘Then there is a person I have a half a mind to take ye to. A man I know who is sorely worried about the growing unrest in these parts … and, moreover, worried that he will face King Richard’s wrath should he return to find the Grail is lost. If he sees truth in ye – if he believes ye can get back this Grail, then I am sure he would be willing to provide ye all the help ye might need.’
‘Who?’
‘A man I provided sword training to as a boy. A poor swordsman by any standards. But his heart, ’tis good. Mostly.’
‘Who?’
‘The king’s younger brother, the Earl of Cornwall and Gloucester. John Lackland he is known as.’
CHAPTER 24
1194, Kirklees Priory, Yorkshire
Liam checked over his shoulder to ensure that none of the monks had followed them out of the priory gardens and into the field. They were safely over the brow and out of sight here.
It was as grey and dark, as cold and unwelcoming as yesterday morning. Mercifully, on cue, the air before them shimmered. He could see Maddy and Sal and that Englishman, Adam, and the dim lights of the archway twisting and undulating like a film of oil on rippling water.
They stepped through and moments later the three of them were standing back in the stuffy warmth of the archway. Liam rubbed his arms, relishing the heat. For the last twenty-four hours he’d been doing little more than shivering.
Adam was silently shaking his head and marvelling at their return.
‘Well?’ said Maddy.
‘Well, we found your Cabot, so we did,’ replied Liam. ‘But I could murder for a lovely cup o’ tea before I do anything else.’
‘Sure.’
‘And something to eat?’
Maddy looked at her watch. The day had almost gone. It was Monday mid-afternoon and most of the cafes and restaurants they’d been to were usually quiet at this time. ‘Sure, why not? You better get changed, though. You look like a bunch of Krishnas.’
2001, New York
‘So, what this fella Cabot suggested is he’d take us down to meet this John fella.’
Adam lowered his fork so fast it dinked noisily on his salad plate. ‘John? John Lackland? Wicked King John?’
Liam nodded. ‘Aye, that’s the fella.’
‘My God!’ he gasped. ‘That’s – I wish I …’ He turned to Maddy. ‘I should go. I should go back with him and the two, uh …’ Liam looked at Bob and Becks sitting side by side opposite and slurping on a bowl of chicken soup each.
‘Big Ape and Psycho Girl?’ said Maddy.
He shrank guiltily before them, but nodded.
‘Sorry, no. I’ve no idea how many agency protocols I’ve already broken allowing you to sit in on this mission. I’m not sending you back in time as well.’
‘But I know this history like the back of my hand. I’ve read –’
‘Sorry, no. I can’t take any more chances with you. God knows what Foster’d say if he knew what was going on!’
‘Foster?’
‘I’ll explain later.’ She turned to Liam. ‘So, this is what the message was about, then, do you think? “Seek Cabot at Kirklees.” Someone used the Voynich –’ she glanced at Adam – ‘and used Adam to get that particular message through to us. And this is why … so that you could retrieve the Holy Grail …’
‘Pandora?’ added Sal.
‘Pandora … Holy Grail, same thing,’ said Maddy dismissively. ‘So you can retrieve this document, scroll, book – whatever exactly it is – from this behooded robber guy. Who, you suspect, might be a support unit from another TimeRiders team?’
Liam nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it.’
Sal steepled her fingers beneath her chin. ‘What if the Grail was meant to be lost? I mean, that’s why it’s such a big legend, right? Because it vanished?’
‘You mean just let it go?’ replied Liam. ‘Let it remain lost?’
‘Yes. Look around you … history hasn’t been changed that much, apart from the cruddy-looking DiCaprio movie based on Adam’s story. Maybe we should just let this one go?’
Liam took a bite of his burger. ‘Mr Cabot called it the Word of God. Sounds pretty important to me. And anyway, if King Richard comes back and finds that it’s been nicked because his little brother John couldn’t keep order back home in England, couldn’t keep it safe, Cabot says he’ll kill him.’
‘Hmmm, I guess. There’s another thing,’ said Maddy. ‘If there’s a support unit running amok back there, then that really is a contamination risk. We can’t sit this one out, Sal.’ She turned to Adam. ‘You’re the history expert, what’s going on with King Richard? What’s the situation in 1194?’
‘King Richard’s crusade ended in failure in 1192,’ said Adam. ‘He had an inadequate army to take and hold Jerusalem. Knowing that Saladin would be able to take back the city with ease, he realized an attempt to attack the city was futile, so he agrees a truce with Saladin and the crusader army disbands and returns home in dribs and drabs. Richard himself returns to England by ship, but bad weather means it ends up shipwrecked on Malta and he has to return on foot. But he’s unlucky as his route home across Europe takes him through the land of some duke with a grudge and he’s kidnapped. He’s held for about eighteen months, I think, while some ransom money is stumped up. So, in 1194, he’s just been released, or about to be, he’s due to arrive home in a really bad mood, because his crusade has been one big mess, and he’s coming home to an England bankrupt and on the verge of rebellion.’
‘Right, so he’s not a happy bunny, then,’ said Maddy.
‘But he got what he went for,’ said Liam. ‘The Grail.’
‘And then lost it again. Lost it in England for which he’ll blame his brother.’
‘If he does kill his brother,’ said Adam, ‘that would change things a lot. No John, means no King John … and that could mean no Magna Carta.’
The others looked at him, with faces that said And?
‘Oh, come on! The Magna Carta is the basis of English law! It’s what defines England.’ He looked at Maddy. ‘And perhaps what defines America too.’
‘Oh God! You’re right!’ It would be a significant enough change to cause a wave, to alter all this. She looked around at the restaurant – an expensive one, Adam’s choice since he’d offered to pay for lunch on his gold American Express. It was quiet except for the clack of dishes coming through swing doors into the kitchen. Just them in here right now, and a couple of businessmen on the far side. Maddy looked out of the blue tinted window down on to Times Square.
‘We have to follow the trail,’ she said eventually. ‘If Cabot seems keen to take you to meet King John –’
‘He’s not king yet,’ Adam pointed out.
Maddy shrugged and continued. ‘Then I suggest you go along with it for now. Because … this – because something’s going on back there. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to get us back there and talking to this Cabot guy. The Pandora message –’
‘Maddy?’ Sal looked up from her plate. ‘Why is Pandora so important to you?’
Well? You going to tell them? That old dilemma again. ‘Be safe and tell no one’ – that’s what the scribbled note had said. Be safe … tell no one. Surely, though, Sal and Liam could know. Surely it wouldn’t be dangerous to share this with them?
Liam’s eyes were on her now. ‘Maddy? What is it?’
But Adam Lewis was really just a stranger, perhaps only a hapless victim caught up in this thing. The less he knew, the better.
‘Adam, would you please excuse us for a few minutes?’
He looked hurt, but then finally nodded. ‘All right, I’ll … uhh … go and settle the bill.’
She watched him cross the deserted restaurant before she turned to the others, her voice lowered. �
��I’ve been keeping something from you. I’m sorry.’
‘What?’
‘Liam, you remember our trip to San Francisco, 1906, to get some new clone foetuses?’
‘Aye.’
‘In the safety deposit box was a handwritten message. It was a note addressed to me.’ She took a deep breath, still not entirely sure she should be doing this. ‘It was handwritten, scribbled really – like whoever wrote it was in a real hurry.’
Sal fidgeted impatiently. ‘Maddy, just tell us!’
‘OK, OK,’ she said. ‘Well, it was this: Maddy, look out for “Pandora”, we’re running out of time. Be safe and tell no one.’
Liam and Sal exchanged glances. Bob frowned, Becks cocked her head in consideration.
‘It’s a warning,’ said Maddy. ‘I didn’t – I really didn’t give it much thought while we were sorting out the dinosaur business. And, you know, I guess I was just trying to push it aside. Trying not to think about it. But then –’ She looked up at Adam waiting for the waiter to process his American Express card. ‘But then our friend over there decoded that message.’
‘It makes a little more sense to me now,’ said Liam. ‘You being so keen for us to go back and take a look-see.’
‘I’m sorry –’ she shook her head – ‘so sorry I didn’t share it with you both earlier. But … it said tell no one. I didn’t know what to –’
‘It’s OK,’ said Sal. ‘We know now. That makes it OK.’
‘Aye,’ said Liam. He pressed his lips, a half smile. ‘No more secrets?’
She shook her head and sighed. ‘Having that one was bad enough.’
Adam Lewis was finishing his business by the till and getting ready to come back.
‘So the message is just between us, OK? This is agency business.’
The others nodded.
Adam approached their table tentatively. ‘Safe for me to come back now?’
Maddy nodded and smiled. ‘All done. I think we should make a move. Lots of things to do.’