Hidden - a dark romance (Marchwood Vampire Series #1)

by Shalini Boland

  Everybody cheered. Alexandre picked his sister up by the waist and swung her around.

  ‘Let me down, you big oaf!’ she protested, turning crimson with embarrassment. ‘I can just as soon change my mind back you know.’

  ‘We will just go down for two hours and then we shall return to the surface by six o’clock,’ Papa said. ‘All we will do for now, is try to determine how many levels there are. We shall not be exploring any further than that this afternoon. Is everybody in agreement?’

  Everyone noisily voiced their assent. They would be accompanied by Isik and two guards – Savas and Nail. Harold would also take two guards with him and a couple of men from their workforce to help him with room dimensions and cataloguing. Alexandre rose up from his place next to the cold campfire and began to help with the preparations for their descent.

  *

  Alexandre and the others made their way towards the staircase in the underground church whilst Harold decided to start in the room at the bottom of the shaft and work his way slowly eastwards, the way Alexandre had originally come from.

  He enjoyed this type of methodical measuring and cataloguing. It was a satisfying process. The minutes evaporated as he got into his stride. He had worked out a rough key for his mapping system and it was all going rather well. Harold was eager to show the others how much progress he had made, although he knew the task would take many months, if not years to complete.

  He pulled out his pocket watch and saw with surprise it was already seven o’clock. The others would be wondering where he had got to. He apologised to the guards and the workers for keeping them so late and they all headed back up to camp.

  Once above ground, Harold walked over to the tents where he assumed the others would be now getting ready for dinner.  

  Strange. The tents were empty.

  ‘I say!’ he called over to one of the guards. ‘The others and Isik - have they returned?’

  ‘No.’ The guard shook his head. ‘Agha Kaya ...’ He pointed towards the shaft opening.’

  ‘I see,’ Harold replied. ‘Thank you.’ Well, they too must have lost track of the time. He did not blame them, it was all too fascinating. They would be up shortly no doubt. He returned to his tent to wash and change.

  When he emerged, darkness had already gathered around the site. He strode over to the hissing, crackling campfire. Still no sign of the others. Harold reluctantly concluded that they must have got themselves lost. They would never be two hours late without very good reason.

  Worry mingled with irritation. He had half guessed this would happen. It simply did not do to plunge headlong into this type of exploration. Preparation, a system and a slow methodical approach should always be employed if one wanted to avoid situations like this.

  Harold sighed. He would have to take some of the guards down with him to go and search them out. They would all be tired and hungry and would, he was sure, now agree to his way of thinking and take it one level at a time, mapping as they went. Once one had a map, one could not get lost.

  Four guards accompanied him and Harold showed them that if they got separated for any reason, they should follow the chalk lines on the walls which would lead them back to the surface. As they walked in the direction of the underground church, Harold drew arrows pointing back towards the entrance.

  The darkness below ground was absolute and the cold seeped into Harold’s body. No filtering daylight shone through and it felt very different to earlier when they had all been euphoric at their discovery. Harold felt enclosed and claustrophobic. He had never had these types of fears before and wondered why he should experience them now. Maybe it was just worry for his family and friends.

  They would laugh about this later on over a glass of raki and a good meal. Harold’s stomach gurgled. He hadn’t eaten for hours. He took a swig of water to help to stem his appetite, but it only seemed to increase it. He pulled some bread out of his bag and started chewing. The others must be ravenous by now.

  At last, after what seemed like an age, they reached the great hall of the underground church and Harold ran his chalk along the rock wall, trying to avoid marking the ancient frescoes. It made an eerie scraping, squeaking noise which echoed through the cavernous space. They stopped at the top of the stone staircase and, after looking at each other with some apprehension, carefully made their way to the next level.

  ‘Victoria!’ Harold shouted, once nearly at the bottom. ‘Leonora! Freddie!’ his voice obscenely loud as he called into the blackness. ‘Shout back if you can hear me!’

  They stood in the echoing passageway, waiting for a reply … nothing.

  ‘I wonder if somehow we have missed each other and they are now above ground wondering where I am,’ he said to the guards with false cheer.

  They did not really understand what he said and just smiled encouragingly, fear in their eyes.

  ‘Aah, yes,’ he said, despite their incomprehension. ‘You too feel some apprehension. I suppose being a guard does not give you immunity from such troublesome human emotions. And now I am rambling. Come, let us continue.’ He strode on ahead, still talking. ‘Didier said they would head downwards and eastwards and so that is what we too shall do.’

  They continued on their course, shouting intermittently and waiting for a reply that never came. They found more staircases descending to lower levels and so they kept going. Harold only vaguely noticed things that would have normally had him in paroxysms of excitement – ancient artefacts, tombs, more carvings, frescoes.

  Off one particular corridor, several rooms were piled high with human skeletons. It was at this point one of the guards tapped Harold on the shoulder. He pointed upwards, speaking vehemently. He had had enough. They were now about five floors down and if it wasn’t for their lanterns, the darkness would have been without end. Harold saw muted terror in the man’s eyes, but he shook his head.

  ‘Ten more minutes,’ he said, showing ten fingers to the guard. ‘Ten minutes and then we will return.’

  ‘He could not be sure if they understood him, but at any rate they seemed to have already made up their minds. They tried to encourage Harold to come with them, but he refused.

  ‘I stay,’ said the youngest of them to Harold. ‘I come with you.’ He turned to his comrades and spoke to them in Turkish. It sounded as though they were arguing, but eventually they hugged and kissed each other’s cheeks before the other three turned around and headed back upwards.

  ‘I Refet.’ The young guard introduced himself.

  ‘Refet, I am Harold. Teşekkür ederim, thank you for staying and for your bravery. We will find the others now.’

  ‘Yes, we go. Find your family. Find Agha Kaya.’

  They descended to another level and then another. They had been underground now for nearly two hours and it was almost ten o’clock. Suddenly, a loud bang filled up the silence. It sounded like a gunshot, but they could not tell from which direction it came.

  Harold and Refet looked at each other and drew their weapons, continuing in the same direction. Harold did not know if he should call out. If it was a gunshot, did it mean the others had fired at an enemy or that someone was firing at them? If indeed it was actually a gunshot.

  Then Harold froze. His body prickled with sweat as a scream stabbed the air. A chilling, blood-curdling sound. A woman’s scream of terror. He heard footsteps, more bangs, scuffles, another scream …

  Harold’s thoughts swung frenziedly from his wife to his children. He prayed to God the screams had not belonged to Victoria or Leonora. There must be a rational explanation. Perhaps Isobel had taken fright at a ghostly shape which had prompted one of the guards to shoot, or maybe … No. This speculation was not productive. He just had to find them, that was all. The matter would then be resolved and they could follow the chalk lines up and out of this place.

  Refet looked at him with concern and Harold realised he was still rooted to the spot. Refet urged him onwards. He was a brave boy, this young Turkish
guard. Harold would make sure he told Isik of his loyalty and valour. He smiled at the guard and they continued forward. The noises had stopped.

  ‘Victoria! Leonora!’ he found the courage to shout. ‘Are you down here? Didier! Freddie! Is that you? It is I, Harold!’

  His voice echoed back at him and then faded away into black silence. He tried not to think of the layers and layers of rock and earth above his head, of the fact he was so many feet below the ground in the dead of night with no immediate means of escape. But then he saw his family’s faces in his mind’s eye and he forged ahead.

  They came upon another great hall, but the cavernous space made Harold feel exposed and vulnerable after the low confines of the tunnels. He and Refet kept close to the walls. And then they heard another cry that faded away. This one infinitely worse than the last.

  ‘God help us! Somebody help us!’ It was Isobel’s voice and it came from the other side of the hall.

  A long echoing scream wound its way towards them. Harold and Refet ran towards the noise, guns pointing straight out in front of them, the sound of their footsteps magnifying as they charged across the stone floor. They had come to another narrow corridor and had to stoop slightly to enter it. They hunched their way along and peered cautiously into each room ... nothing.

  ‘Where are you?’ Harold cried out. His voice sounded thin and quavering to his ears. There was no reply. He heard more shouts and screams - a woman’s voice. A scuffling sound up ahead and then silence again.

  Refet tapped him on the shoulder making him jump. The young guard pointed up ahead to a dim pulse of light. As they got closer, they saw it came from a lantern discarded on the ground, still burning.

  ‘They cannot be far away,’ whispered Harold, picking up the lantern and standing it upright. A thought came to him. ‘Maybe there are wild animals down here. Bears or wolves. Be careful.’

  They crept along the corridor until they reached a room which contained such horror, they could not believe what they were seeing.

  ‘No!’ Harold screamed. ‘No! It cannot be!’

   

   

  Six Hours Earlier

  Didier, Marie-Louise, Victoria and Isik led the way down the steep staircase. Isobel and Leonora went next, followed by Jacques, Freddie and Alexandre. Two more guards, Savas and Nail, brought up the rear.

  ‘I know I have said it before,’ Alexandre’s father said when they reached the bottom. ‘But no one, and I mean no one, is to separate from the group. We are to stay together at all times. Jacques, Freddie, this includes both of you.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘Of course, Sir,’ Freddie agreed.

  Alexandre smiled to himself. If would be a miracle if those two kept their promise.

  ‘We will proceed in an easterly direction, descending the first set of steps we come to,’ his father instructed. ‘We will keep descending. Then, after one hour, at five o’clock, we will head back up to the surface. Now, Isobel, do you still wish to continue or should one of us escort you back up top?’

  ‘No, Papa, I will stay. It is not half as bad as I anticipated and I feel quite excited now I am here with everyone.’

  ‘That’s my girl! Alexandre, you stay at the rear with Savas and Nail.’

  ‘Yes, Papa.’

  ‘Good. Then let us proceed.’

  They made steady progress, even though they were constantly tempted to stop and examine all the artefacts and chambers they passed. On reaching the sixth level, they entered what appeared to be a large storeroom with many nooks hollowed out of the walls, some containing earthenware containers. In the corner of the room they saw yet another staircase leading downwards, but Victoria regretfully informed the party the time was now five o’clock and they should head back.

  ‘Can we not just go down to the next level?’ Freddie asked. ‘It seems a pity to leave now, when we could quickly see what is there.’

  Tired as he was, Alexandre hoped they would agree. Papa looked at Maman and Victoria, who both smiled and nodded.

  ‘Very well,’ Papa said. ‘Ten more minutes and then we shall return. I too am most curious.’

  Alexandre was not disappointed, for on the seventh level they discovered another great hall, twice the size of the first one. It was more elaborately designed in a cruciform shape - another church. They wondered at the stunning frescoed triple-arched ceiling, the ornate pillars and rows of arches carved into the walls. Alexandre looked around in awe. It felt strange to be in such an ancient place.

  ‘I cannot believe we are here,’ Papa said. ‘It is absolutely marvellous.’

  ‘I know, my darling,’ replied Maman. ‘This will be the find of the century. Monsieur Bouvier will be delighted.’

  ‘To hell with Monsieur Bouvier!’ he exclaimed.

  Alexandre grinned.

  ‘Now I see where our eldest son gets his irreverence from,’ Maman laughed.

  His father suddenly frowned. ‘Now where are those blasted boys?’

  Alexandre and his parents looked around the hall, but could see no sign of Freddie or Jacques.

  ‘I knew it was too good to be true. You wait here with the others. Isik and I will seek them out.’

  ‘Jacques!’ Papa shouted.

  ‘Papa, we are through here!’ came the reply from a narrow tunnel at the end of the hall. ‘Come and see what we have found! You will not believe it!’

  Didier entered the chamber with Isik and saw the two boys gesturing excitedly. They stood next to row upon row of what appeared to be carved stone sarcophagi set up on stone pedestals. Jacques and Freddie had managed to slide one of the lids part way off and were looking at its contents.

  ‘I thought I issued you with strict instructions not to wander off and not to touch anything,’ Didier said. ‘It is too easy to get lost down here, boys. Jacques, I am surprised at you.’

  ‘Sorry, Papa, but do come and look. We thought it would be just old bones in here, or a corpse or something, but see, it is a marvellous statue.’

  ‘Sir, I do not think it wise to linger,’ Isik said. ‘We should leave this place. My other guards will come to search for us if we do not return on time.’

  ‘Yes, Isik, you are right. I will just take a look at this statue and then we will leave.’ Didier walked over to Jacques and peered down into the coffin.

  ‘My goodness! It is remarkable. Isik, give me a hand to slide this lid off properly.’

  The four of them heaved and pushed until the stone lid tipped onto the rock floor with a scrape and clatter. They were greeted with a most unusual sight. Lying in a cloud of silken material was the stone statue of a man in full dress, wearing a jewelled turban and rich green robes.

  ‘But I do not understand ...’ Didier fingered the cloth, puzzled. ‘How can these clothes be so immaculate? They appear new. Help me with this other one.’

  They stepped over to the adjacent coffin and began to slide another lid off. Yet again, they were confronted with a lifelike statue dressed in rich brocaded costume. Didier leaned in to touch the smooth white stone face and stroke the heavy beaded headwear.

  ‘Byzantine I think. Yes, this clothing is from the Byzantine era. It is the same costume as depicted in the frescoes. We are talking seventh or eighth century perhaps. Let us look at another.’

  ‘They are so beautiful, so mesmerising.’ Didier gazed at a bejewelled woman statue with a mustard-coloured robe and golden girdle. She wore a gorgeous headdress and a beaded mantle in deep blue. Her pale sculpted face was exquisite and Didier was hypnotised by her beauty.

  ‘We should head back now, Sir,’ Isik said. ‘I really do not think we should delay further. We can return tomorrow. If we are too long, my guards will put together a search party.’

  Didier did not reply. Isik noticed he was not moving. Something did not look quite right.

  ‘Sir,’ Isik said. ‘Monsieur Chevalier? Sir!’ He crouched next to him and then jumped backwards in shock. He shouted to Jacques and Freddie. ‘Bo
ys, get out! Return to the great hall. Take the others and start back to the surface immediately. Whatever you hear from this room, ignore it!’

  Chapter Fifteen

  *

  When Ben returned from the cinema, it was eight thirty and Maddy had been shivering on the front lawn for over forty minutes. His friend’s mum drove up to the house in a large people carrier. There were about four or five boys in the back who shouted and waved as Ben jumped out. Madison stood up and waved her thanks to the boy’s mother. The woman buzzed down the window and called out to Maddy.

  ‘I won’t stop! Got to deliver these monsters back home. Ben was a real pleasure, good as gold. He’ll have to come round sometime. Byee!’

  ‘Thanks!’ Maddy shouted back.

  ‘Hey, Mads,’ Ben gushed. ‘I had an awesome night. That movie was immense.’

  ‘Glad it was good, Ben.’

  ‘You coming in, Mads? Hey the front door’s locked. You got the key on you?’

  ‘Uhhh, no. Don’t worry, the back door’s open.’

  ‘Come on then.’ Ben bent down to pull her up off the grass. Maddy reluctantly let herself be helped to her feet. Well, she had to go in sometime. She couldn’t stay out here all night, could she? She supposed she felt marginally better now Ben had come home. Ben, with his twelve-year-old enthusiastic ordinariness.

  Maddy followed him around the side of the house and they approached the taut cable that ran from the open cellar window to the Land Rover. Maddy couldn’t help herself - she gave a small shudder and a scream, pretending she was mucking about. Linking arms with him, she shouted:

  ‘Come on, Ben. Run!’

  Ben laughed. ‘Maddy, you’re a psycho. What you doing? Why are we running?’

  ‘Dunno, Ben. But come on, hurry up.’

  ‘What’s the Defender doing up there with the rope?’

  ‘Oh, I was just trying some stuff out. Don’t worry about it.’

  They jogged around to the back door, panting and laughing. Maddy’s laughter was slightly crazed. She took a deep breath before entering the house. The back door led into the utility room and the cellar door. Maddy walked straight through to the kitchen and turned on the light. She closed the utility door behind them. Then she walked into the hall and flicked that light on, followed by the lounge light. She switched on the television and put some crappy home makeover show on. That felt somewhat better - a bit more normality. Every time the image of the skull came into her mind, she tried to push it out and concentrate on ordinary things.