The door was halfway closed when the two men spun around. The first ripples of runoff splashed against their ankles. Further up, the water was more agitated, cascading down towards them.
“The coffer dam must have been severed,” said Zeno, dipping his hand into the water. He put it to his tongue. “Salt water.”
Angus pointed at a frothing wall of white water rushing down the corridor. “Look there! A giant wave is coming at us!”
Prince Henry grimaced in frustration. “We have no choice. It’s rising too quickly. Everyone! Back into the temple!”
The small group quickly scampered back into the octagonal room, the flow of water reaching the level of a small stream, pouring in through the doorway and spilling out onto the tiled floor.
“Everyone! Grab the door and push!”
Together, they moved the stubborn stone across the entrance. As the gap narrowed, the torrent spewed through, protesting the constriction. With a final, soaking spray, the door finally slid shut, shielding them from the onslaught of the sea. The five men leaned up against the door, breathing heavily. Connor felt a wave of panic as realization of the situation washed over him. He was trapped in an underground temple with an ocean-flooded tunnel the only means of escape. In the stone heart of an island, with his best friend and Prince Henry by his side, Connor MacDonald was going to die.
Fifteen
Stand away from the door!” Several women screamed as several wood planks from the cabin door shattered with an ear-splitting crack. A huge axe pulled back through the hole. Choking black smoke began to stream into the sheltered room. It appeared as if Hell itself was forcing its way through the entranceway.
“This is good news,” said Princess Sarah, trying to calm her sobbing friends. “I know who it is! He has come to help us.”
As she hugged her maiden-in-waiting in the far corner of the listing cabin, she recognized the voice of Black Douglas. He had been put in charge of her personal safety for almost three years, and she trusted him completely. He would find a way to rescue them from this disaster.
With a kick, the door flew open. Filling the shattered frame was the hulking outline of Black Douglas himself, smoke swirling in and around him like a heroic apparition from some ancient battle. The women choked on the acrid smoke as Prince Henry’s second in command stepped through the opening.
“What happened? Why did the ship explode?” asked the princess, ushering the younger girls towards the door.
“The powder room,” explained Black Douglas. “Something ignited the gunpowder in the forward hold.”
Sarah nodded. “We were all thrown against the wall by the force of the blast. I’m afraid that Stephanie is badly hurt.”
Black Douglas strode over to a young woman curled up on the floor and gently threw her over his shoulder.
“We don’t have much time, my princess. The boat is sinking rapidly. Everyone, join hands and follow me! You won’t be able to see a thing in the smoke, so don’t let go.”
Black Douglas strode up to Sarah, removed his leather glove and offered his hand.
“Princess, if you would take mine and help lead the young maidens?”
Sarah hesitated. It would break royal protocol for someone who wasn’t a relative or suitor to touch her in such a way. The boat suddenly shifted further onto its side. Almost losing her balance, she grasped his open palm.
“Get us out of here,” she commanded.
Black Douglas nodded gravely and led them into the corridor. The stinging thick smoke made it impossible to see. She squeezed her lids shut and trusted the guidance of the knight. After several turns and stumbles, he brought the procession to a stop, letting go of Princess Sarah’s hand.
“Here is the staircase to the above decks,” he shouted. “Let go of each other’s hand and grab the handrails. Follow the stairs towards the light. I will lead to ensure the way up is safe. Princess Sarah, please, ensure everyone is here then ascend as quickly as possible!”
“Quickly, my friends, quickly!” urged Sarah, counting each of them as they climbed the leaning stairs.
If her eyes had not been stinging she would have been able to glimpse a yellow, broken-toothed grin from underneath the stairs. The hidden stranger waited for all of the other women to disappear to the higher deck before leaving his hiding place and quickly circling to the stairs himself. Princess Sarah, coughing into a linen handkerchief, followed her final friend towards the deck but before her foot hit the second step, the back of her head suddenly exploded in pain and her world spiralled into an endless sea of darkness.
The crowd at the edge of the dock erupted in cheers as Black Douglas materialized with the young maiden Stephanie on his shoulder. Soon other women appeared on deck beside him, coughing and wiping away their smoke-filled tears. Black Douglas ushered them away from the hatch towards the improvised rope ladders that dropped down to a flotilla of small skiffs bobbing in the bay. As Black Douglas passed Stephanie over the rail to a waiting sailor, a scream froze the entire operation.
“Where is she?” shrieked one of the maidens.
“Where is who?” asked Black Douglas, spinning around.
“My cousin! Princess Sarah! Where is she?”
He scanned the group. “My Lord, you’re right! She must still be below deck!”
Black Douglas called out to a tall red-headed knight organizing the abandonment of the ship.
“Sir Liam! We have a problem!”
“Speak, my friend,” the knight said, striding over. “What is it?”
“Princess Sarah! She didn’t come up with the others. She must still be trapped below decks in the smoke.”
“I will find her,” he offered.
“No, I’m leaving you in charge of getting everyone else off the ship. I put their safety in your hands. The ship will be going down at any moment. I’ll do my best to find her!”
“But Master,” cried Sir Liam, “you might get trapped inside as well!”
But Black Douglas was already at the hatch, and he disappeared back into the thick smoke.
“It took you long enough,” a voice gasped. Black Douglas could just barely see through the curtain of smoke the outline of a thin man unceremoniously propping up the unconscious princess with his arms around her waist.
“I hope you didn’t hit her too hard, Thomas.”
“She’ll wake up with a headache, but she’ll be fine,” the man coughed, “assuming we don’t stay down here a second longer.”
“You are one of my most loyal men,” offered Black Douglas, “I’ll take her from here.”
The sailor dragged Princess Sarah to his leader and lifted her easily up off the floor to the taller Douglas. In the smoke and noise, Thomas didn’t see as the unsheathed dagger cut through the smoky air and embedded itself in his exposed ribs. The sharp blade slid between the bones, coming to a stop deep within the sailor’s heart. Thomas took one last gurgling gasp then collapsed onto the lower deck as Black Douglas threw the princess up over his shoulder.
“Sorry, my friend,” he said, looking down at the dying sailor, “but there can be no witnesses. The stakes are simply too high.”
Throwing the dagger next to Thomas’s body, Black Douglas ascended up into the blue sky to the cheers of the adoring crowd. He grabbed a hold of a loading rope and swung both himself and the princess to the safety of the dock. A moment later, the ship lurched sharply and descended like a rock into its shallow, watery grave.
Sixteen
Prince Henry stared at the door. Connor looked around at the stunned faces in the small gathering. Returning his gaze to the perplexed look on his hero’s face only added to his growing anxiety. Antonio Zeno finally broke the silence by putting a hand on the prince’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry. They’ll come for us.”
It seemed to take a minute for the statement to sink in. The prince slowly shook his head. He turned to his friend. “A rescue? Unlikely, if not impossible. We’d starve or suffocate before they even c
ame close to rebuilding the dyke, draining the bay, then emptying out the entranceway.”
Connor shot Angus a look of horror. Angus, however, was focused on the conversation and not its meaning. He must be in shock, Connor mused. He looked past Angus to the corner of the library. Na’gu’set had retreated to the wall, sat down cross-legged in a corner, closed his eyes and begun a silent prayer.
“What about the excavation tunnel?” asked Antonio.
Prince Henry looked up at the ceiling above their heads. “It would take weeks to reassemble the winch then dig their way back down, with a high likelihood of setting off the booby traps and thereby drowning us all.”
Silence again reclaimed the small group of men. Antonio began to pace back and forth, refusing to give up. “The dam obviously gave way,” he said, deep in thought. “What do you suppose caused it?”
Prince Henry shrugged. “There was a storm brewing when we entered. Perhaps the winds suddenly picked up to hurricane strength, allowing the waves to weaken the dam until it burst.”
“But the coffer dam was over ten feet thick!” argued Antonio. “I can’t imagine the structure going so fast. And where was the warning of the disaster? Surely someone would have noticed the breach in the dam. We could have been warned well before the bay filled up to the point where the water would reach the entranceway.”
Prince Henry shrugged. “I wish I had the answers, Antonio. We won’t know what really happened until we get back to the surface.”
Connor’s heart jumped at the ray of hope. “You mean we can get out, Prince Henry? I thought we were going to either starve or suffocate.”
Prince Henry turned and faced the young man. “I built this library and resting place for Mary Magdalene, not us.”
Antonio raised his eyebrow. “Oh, you have a plan, do you? I can’t wait to hear it. Are we going to make like a pack of badgers and dig our way out?”
“Ye of little faith,” smiled the prince. “Didn’t I tell you that I also helped design this temple?”
“Aye, I know you did,” grumbled Zeno. “I saw the plans too, remember? If I recall, you had the greatest engineers in Europe make this library so that it was impenetrable.”
“Aye, from the outside,” agreed the prince.
“But we’re on the inside,” pointed out Angus.
“Correct. That might be what will save our lives.”
Prince Henry wheeled around and walked briskly across the room. Antonio shrugged to the others and followed the prince. Angus and Connor did likewise. Prince Henry went to a large bookshelf opposite the entranceway. On his toes, he reached up and pulled out a long, sealed metal tube. They gathered around a large table with a golden replica of the Last Supper sitting in the corner. They moved the pieces of art and placed them on the floor. Connor had grabbed the figurine sitting to the left of Jesus. There was something unusual about the shape of the figurine. He paused, looked down and realized the figurine was feminine, unlike the others in the set. Shrugging, he ignored the minor mystery and placed the figurine on the floor with the others. The boys jumped as the prince cracked the end of the tube hard against the edge of the table.
“Apologies for the noise,” he said. “All the materials in the entire library have been placed in waterproof containers. I have to break the protective seal to get at the plans.”
He reached into the tube, pulled out a large roll of paper, then flattened the paper on the table. “This is a copy of the design the engineers used to build the library. As you can see, the library is here in the centre of the island, one hundred and twenty feet below the surface, and to the left is the entranceway that slopes downward from the bay to the centre of the island.”
“Is that vertical rectangle above the library the excavation shaft you mentioned earlier?” asked Connor.
Prince Henry nodded. “You arrived when we were in the final stages of disassembling the large winch which was used for removing the dirt, clay and rock from the chamber area.”
“Then can’t they just dig back down through the shaft to rescue us?” asked Connor.
“It’s not that simple,” explained the prince. “Do you see the smaller tunnel moving to the right of the excavation tunnel? It is part of an elaborate flooding system designed to thwart anyone unfamiliar with the temple from ever entering it. Both the entranceway and excavation pit are rigged to flood with seawater should anyone try to dig down to the temple from above.”
“Since it’s very unlikely anyone else will ever find out that I said this,” said Antonio, “I have to admit Prince Henry’s design is a work of genius.”
The prince grinned. “Antonio, did I just hear you offer me a compliment?”
“On the other hand,” replied Zeno, “how many geniuses are so smart that they end up catching themselves within their own perfect trap?”
“Oh really, Antonio. For someone who has survived many close brushes with death, I’m surprised that you, of all people, would give up so easily.”
Zeno shook his head. “My friend, if you get us out of this one, I will climb up to the top of the mast in Princess Sarah’s underwear.”
Prince Henry shook his head. “Not good enough. You also have to be playing the bagpipes.”
Zeno cringed. “All right! I’ll climb up in her underwear while playing that sad excuse for a musical instrument that you call the bagpipes!”
Even Connor and Angus managed a grin at the ridiculous image, realizing the men were trying to lighten the mood.
“Aye, then, what do you think, lads? Is that worth the challenge? Personally, I would dig us to the other side of the Earth with my bare hands in order to see my Italian friend playing the pipes in my sister’s skivvies.”
“It would be a sight,” agreed Angus.
Prince Henry turned to Zeno. “You realize I’ll have to have all of the lasses present for the ceremony as well.”
“Invite every woman in the entire world to stand on the deck, for all I care!” cried Zeno. “I can’t see you ever getting us out of here!”
Na’gu’set finished his meditation and joined the group. The men and boys poured over the plans. Connor and Angus quizzed Zeno and Prince Henry about the flooding system, the distances to the surface and the construction of the tunnels. Na’gu’set pointed out the slight differences in topography of the island that were not present in the diagram. After several minutes of brainstorming, even Prince Henry was beginning to look despondent. They tried to think of ways the men on the surface might mount a rescue operation. They debated other possible excavations, the rebuilding of the dam or even someone attempting to swim down the long entranceway. Every idea was quickly shot down as hopeless. There simply wasn’t another way up to the surface.
Connor’s thoughts wheeled within his head as he scanned the island diagram for the umpteenth time. His eyes noticed something about the flooding tunnels.
“Prince Henry, is there any way for us to travel back to the surface through the flooding tunnels?”
“That’s a good thought, Connor, but we purposely built them to a size so small that a man couldn’t travel through them. They’re barely two feet wide.”
“And besides,” added Zeno, “how would you get to them? If we went up through the ceiling to the bottom of the excavation tunnel, we would set off the flooding mechanism and drown us all.”
Connor continued to ponder, his eyes never leaving the map. “What is this large area down here, below the temple?”
“That,” explained Prince Henry, “is a large natural cavern located directly below us. This whole island is virtually made of waterproof clay. Even though the cavern is below ocean level, it is watertight and full of breathable air.”
“Do we have access to it?”
“Aye, we do. Where do you think all of the water went with the flood?”
For the first time, the boys noticed that they were not sloshing around in water. A huge amount had spilled into the temple before they were able to close the door.
“I had hidden grates built into the floor of the temple. The cavern below is a natural phenomenon that we discovered during the excavation process, so we incorporated our good fortune into the plan. If small amounts of water leaked into the chamber, it would simply drain down into the cavern below, leaving the temple high and dry.”
“What’s going on in that young mind of yours, Connor?” asked Zeno. “Unfortunately, the chamber takes you further down into the earth. We want to go the other way.”
Connor moved his finger along the map. “Most of the cavern is below us, but your map has a section of it going up towards the flooding tunnel. See? Right there.”
Zeno nodded. “When excavating that section of the flooding tunnel, the men started a slight cave-in into the cavern. We had to reinforce that part of the system and waterproof it in order to maintain the floodway’s integrity.”
A smile began to creep across Prince Henry’s face. “Are you suggesting that we try to go up through the bottom of the flooding tunnel that is exposed in the cavern and escape that way?”
“Even if we could,” said Angus, “you said that a person would never fit through the tunnel.”
“I said a full-grown man,” corrected Prince Henry. “Antonio and I wouldn’t have a chance, probably not Angus either with his wide shoulders. But our young friend Connor, here, and possibly Na’gu’set . . .”
All eyes turned to them.
Na’gu’set rested a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “While praying, I asked the Great Spirit for guidance. I was told through a vision that the answer would come through this one.”
“Na’gu’set. Connor. Stand back to back,” Prince Henry ordered.
Connor reluctantly turned and lined up against Na’gu’set. Na’gu’set’s long, lean body must have been a good three inches taller than his own embarrassingly short, skinny frame. Zeno and Prince Henry circled the two and nodded approvingly.
“Look at that. Almost exactly the same shoulder width. You know, they might be able to pull it off.”
Connor shifted uncomfortably. He wondered what his suggestion was getting him into. Perhaps any crazy idea was worth exploring at this point. Death, even in a beautiful temple containing the remains of Mary Magdalene, was not an option. He had to somehow help his friends out of this grim situation.
Betrayed Page 13
