The French Prize

by Cathryn Hein

  ‘You’re being cruel,’ she said quietly. ‘And it’s not fair.’

  They didn’t speak again until they had cut through the western side of Nîmes and were travelling on one of the départementale roads towards Gailhan. At the gate to an olive grove, he pulled over. For a long moment, he simply stared out the windscreen, as though searching for the words he needed.

  ‘Do you really believe it will not matter, Olivia?’ He turned hopeful brown eyes towards her. ‘That no matter what I do, you will forgive me?’

  ‘Yes. I do.’

  He reached across the space and took her hand. ‘I want to believe you.’

  ‘But you can’t?’

  He bowed his head and let the question hang with it, then let out a long breath. ‘I know you think differently, but no one can predict what they will feel in the future. Not even you.’

  She had no reply to that. He was right. But this powerful, aching love was strong. It would endure. No matter what.

  ‘When this is over, when my tasks are complete, if you still desire, we will talk.’ He squeezed her fingers, but his mouth was sad. ‘I hope it will happen.’

  ‘It will. I promise.’

  He stared at her in a way that made her stomach contract in an anxious cramp. Like he had a secret even she could not guess, one that was truly unforgivable. Then he smiled. A genuine smile filled with tenderness, and the look disappeared. She relaxed. Her imagination had deceived her once more.

  He stroked his hand over her hair, and then rested his palm against her cheek, his thumb tracking over her skin in a soothing caress.

  ‘You are a very strong, very beautiful and very clever woman, Doctor Olivia Walker.’

  ‘You said that to me once before. In the gîte. Just before you tried to send me back to England.’

  He regarded her with shining eyes. ‘It is not something I will attempt again.’

  The answer made her laugh. ‘I should hope not. Otherwise I’d have to consider you a very slow learner.’

  ‘Come,’ he said, releasing her and flicking the indicator, back to seriousness. ‘Let us get this over with.’

  ‘Yes. Let’s. The sooner it’s done, the sooner we can talk and the sooner we can get on with living.’

  Raimund turned right off the road onto an unsealed lane. On the corner, a lightning-struck tree drooped a thick broken branch across a wire fence, its tips reaching across a quarter of the track. He veered around it and continued. No sign existed to signify whether it was a private road or public, but it was in barely serviceable condition.

  The Mercedes bumped along the track, tackling the conditions with all the aplomb expected of German engineering. Long dry grass scraped against the side of the car, petering out as they drove deeper into the forest and the lane became shadowed by the canopy of leaves.

  Half a kilometre in, Raimund turned onto another track but stopped less than fifty metres along. Ahead, the trail dwindled and then was lost, overgrown with weeds and fallen branches. Olivia stared out the window. The forest was thick and dark. There was no comparison to Le Chevalier Gris’ map, yet Raimund remained certain they had the correct location.

  ‘Come,’ he said, opening the door. ‘The place we seek is still some distance away.’

  From the boot of the car he pulled out what looked like a broad, heavy, woven nylon harness. With practised ease, he slipped his arms through the two loops and drew two padded straps across his hips then fastened the lock. Strapped to the harness were various pockets. Two held water canteens. The others were fastened closed with clips but sagged as though weighted. With a gun in his hands and a helmet on his head, Raimund would appear like a man who just stepped from a warzone.

  ‘You look like you’re going into battle,’ she said.

  ‘It’s my webbing.’ He fingered the sweat-stained hilt of a knife which protruded from a scabbard hanging from the strap at his right hip. He caught her staring and dropped his hand, then reached in and dragged out a large military rucksack. ‘Knives have many uses, Olivia.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose they do.’ But the sight of that weapon reignited that same sense of foreboding she had experienced in the car. With a deliberate effort, she shook it away.

  She leaned into the boot for her own small backpack and spied a duffle bag tucked deep into the far corner. Lying flat next to it was a black nylon laptop carry bag and next to that, illuminated by the boot’s light, was the aluminium case.

  None of these items had been in the car at Rognes when she had thrown in her backpack. Nor had she seen Raimund with them. La Tasse, she had assumed, he had left in his room. Raimund or even Edouard must have loaded these extras when she returned to the kitchen to farewell Dame Elizabeth.

  Slowly, she turned her head towards him. He was busy securing his rucksack, concentrating on adjusting the shoulder straps, but there was something forced about his movements. For someone well-practised, the adjustment seemed to take an inordinate amount of time.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, leaning her backside against a taillight and crossing her arms. ‘What’s going on?’

  The fiddling stopped. Instead, he lifted his right leg and propped his foot against the boot and undid then retied his laces.

  ‘We are about to find Durendal.’

  ‘I mean the bags, Raimund.’

  He dropped his foot and regarded her. ‘They are not important now.’

  ‘And they were important before?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  She glanced at the aluminium case. ‘And La Tasse? Were you planning on running away with that as well?’

  ‘No.’ He reached for her backpack and handed it to her. ‘Come. We have a sword to find.’

  She took the pack and shouldered it, wanting to pursue the topic but knowing he was right. Now was not the time to have this conversation and he had said in the car that once all this was over, they would talk. Explanations would have to wait until then.

  She leaned into the boot and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the aluminium case.

  ‘Leave it.’

  She blinked but continued to drag it towards her. ‘You can’t leave it here.’

  He stayed her arm. ‘The vehicle has an excellent security system.’

  ‘No doubt, but you still can’t leave it here. What if we need it?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s a key to something.’

  He cast her an incredulous look. ‘I think perhaps you have watched too many films. La Tasse has served its purpose.’

  ‘So why did you bring it then? Why didn’t you leave it in the archives with all the other relics your family has accrued?’

  As soon as the question was posed his face straightened. Gone was the slightly amused expression. In its place was anger, although whether it was directed at her or at himself, she wasn’t sure. She suspected the latter.

  ‘Because as soon as Durendal was destroyed I was going to remove any trace of its existence. The cup, the map, would be destroyed as well. There would be nothing but legend to say Durendal and La Tasse ever existed.’

  ‘And you would be free.’

  His eyes locked on hers but he didn’t answer, and again she had that strange sensation that he was hiding some momentous secret.

  ‘Raimund?’

  His fingers tensed around her forearm. Then he looked at them and jerked away his hand. ‘Yes, Olivia,’ he said, his gaze directed at the thick forest. ‘I would be free.’

  ‘Then I hope for your sake your wish will be granted.’ Released from his hold, she reached in and pulled the case out of the boot. ‘But La Tasse is still coming with me.’

  He didn’t say a word as she dumped her backpack on the ground and crammed the aluminium case into it. It wasn’t heavy and she was reasonably fit. The case would be little burden.

  ‘You have your portable?’ he asked as she shouldered the backpack.

  She patted the side pocket. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And the code word? You r
emember it?’

  It took a few seconds to extract the word from her memory. ‘Birao, but surely we’re in no danger here?’

  He looked into the forest and then back down the track. ‘I hope so. Let’s go. We have work to do.’

  He shut the boot and locked the car, then passed around it and strode up the track. Olivia trailed behind, her mind still on those bags.

  That he had planned to leave was obvious. What she couldn’t fathom was what he had intended to do with her. Perhaps it was his intention to drop her back in Aix, or abandon her at the airport. It didn’t matter. He had set his mind on running away, but now he had said they would talk. She had to cling to the hope that he was telling the truth.

  At the end of the track, Raimund veered to the left and into the forest proper. Their feet rustled through the dry litter. Overhead, the trees swayed and creaked, blown by the strengthening wind. The muscles in Olivia’s calves and thighs told her they were heading steadily upwards, but the terrain seemed only to slope moderately. Now and then, the trees cleared and a mound of grey boulders would appear. Each time, sure they had arrived at the place indicated by the Grey Knight, her stomach flipped, but Raimund marched on.

  ‘Are you sure you know where you’re going?’ she said after they passed yet another mound.

  ‘Yes. It’s not far.’ He stopped and waited for her to catch up. ‘I’m not leading you astray, Olivia. As soon as I saw Le Chevalier Gris’ drawing I knew. I remember the formation from when Patrice and I were boys.’

  ‘You used to come here?’

  He walked on. ‘Sometimes. Our family would come here on truffle hunts.’

  Olivia’s mouth nearly watered at the word ‘truffle’. She adored the earthy fungus. ‘There’re truffles here?’

  He smiled at her. ‘No. Not that we ever found. But Patrice and I would play soldiers among the trees.’

  ‘Who won?’ Not that she needed to ask.

  ‘I did. He was not very good at hiding.’ He stopped suddenly. ‘We are here.’

  Olivia stared. In the clearing ahead, five large boulders were arranged with almost symmetrical precision into a pyramid shape, rising up from the ground in a mound exactly like the one shown on the map. Just as Raimund had said. Around them lay smaller rocks, scattered as though someone had stood at the top and discarded a handful of oversized marbles.

  He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, then led her into the clearing.

  After the shade of the forest, the sun seemed unnaturally bright in the open space. Olivia squinted up at the heavens. The dust storm had progressed further inland, giving the southern sky a strange hue. The air had a peculiar tension, as though a storm was coming, but the sky appeared barren. Dirty ochre, but uncluttered by clouds.

  She followed Raimund to the mound, keeping pace as he circled the giant rocks, enjoying the way they were doing this together, like a couple. A vision of a future she desperately hoped would come.

  As she walked, she trailed her free hand over the stone. The boulders were smooth, worn by years of erosion. Dull lichens and vibrant mosses covered the bottom stones, while around them, rabbit trails led into the heart of the mound. There were gaps and hollows between the rocks, dark and mysterious fissures that made her think of creepy horror houses and monsters that lurked in the dark. She shuddered and then mentally scolded herself. That part of her rampant imagination she could do without.

  ‘Almost seven centuries ago, Le Chevalier Gris walked where we are walking, Olivia. He carried the most precious possession his family owned.’ He halted and looked at her. ‘Durendal lies hidden somewhere in these rocks.’

  ‘Take the Honourables’ path but beware,’ she said softly, staring at the mound. ‘What you seek is hidden in eternal night.’ She faced Raimund again. ‘So what have you got planned?’

  Releasing her hand, he flicked the quick-release catches of his pack and set it down, then crouched and rummaged inside. He drew a large torch from the interior and turned it on before reshouldering the pack. Walking slowly, he circled the mound again, shining the torch into the dark spaces, talking as he made his inspection.

  ‘The mound appears the same as the map. I do not believe there has been any change in the structure since Le Chevalier Gris was here.’ He stopped and leaned over a boulder, shining the light into the space behind it. ‘If I am correct, we will find a hole large enough for a man to fit. It will be in that space where we will find Durendal. It’s likely to be in a chest or container of some kind, buried underground.’

  ‘What you seek is hidden in eternal night,’ said Olivia, standing on tiptoe and trying to lean over his shoulder to look. ‘I guess that makes sense.’

  He stepped back, almost treading on her toes and causing her to trip. He gripped her arm, holding her upright. His hand was hot and moist on her skin, and she realised that despite his professional demeanour, he was nervous. She couldn’t blame him. She felt exactly the same.

  On their initial lap, there had been perhaps three spaces a person could squeeze through, four if they were small and lean, but on this round, she noticed there were many more, most higher up.

  Raimund’s size prevented access to some of the cavities, but not all. Those he could manipulate himself into were explored thoroughly. She had attempted to join him only once. The space proved so tight neither of them could move without cracking elbows or heads and after a few minutes Raimund had ordered her out. She had hovered at the entrance, trying not to sulk and feeling like a child forbidden access to a new and wonderful playground.

  Those he decided had potential, he marked the entrance to with his knife, carving away some lichen or moss as a sign, and once, when there was no plant matter, smearing some dirt on the smooth grey rock.

  They had almost completed a full circuit when his attitude changed completely. Olivia had dropped her backpack and was crouching down to pull a bottle of water from the interior when he called to her. His tone had her jumping to her feet.

  Raimund was a good three metres off the ground, perched on the top of the biggest boulder and peering into a gap just wide enough for a person to slip through.

  ‘What is it?’ she said, standing at the base of the rock and staring up at him.

  ‘I think there’s a cave,’ he replied, leaning even further forward. He extracted his head and gazed down at her, his brown eyes feverish from his find. ‘A cave.’ He turned off the torch and climbed to the edge of the rock, hopping down onto the smaller adjacent boulder and then sliding to the ground.

  As soon as he was steady, he began stripping off his rucksack.

  ‘What did you see?’

  ‘Nothing except another gap in the rocks, but it looks like the entrance to some sort of tunnel.’

  She glanced up at the rock and then back at him. ‘Are we able to explore it?’

  ‘I will find out,’ he said, placing the rucksack beside her feet.

  Olivia’s hands went to her hips. She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Oh, no you don’t. You’re not exploring anywhere without me.’

  He regarded her seriously. ‘I do not know what is down there. You must stay here.’

  ‘No.’

  He rested a hand on her arm. ‘It’s for your safety, Olivia. Not because I wish to be secretive.’

  She scrutinised his face, looking for a sign that he was lying, but there was no evidence of guile, only an expression of genuine concern. The tension across her shoulders and back eased a little. She placed her hand on his chest. This was important to them both.

  ‘I want us to do this together.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  His espresso eyes held hers and then he leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. The touch of his lips made her heart skitter. ‘You are too reckless for your own good.’

  ‘Didn’t you know? Recklessness is another of my many charms.’ She grinned. ‘You’ve only experienced the bedroom ones.’

  ‘Mor
e charms?’ He tutted. ‘You are too much for me.’

  ‘Big man like you? Never.’

  He arched an eyebrow. ‘Big?’

  Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘Men. You’re all the same the world over.’

  ‘Come,’ he said, smiling. ‘Enough play.’ He hoisted his rucksack on one shoulder and strode towards the rocks. ‘Bring your backpack. This is private property, but just in case hikers come here.’

  Realising she was about to leave behind La Tasse for anyone to find, she ran back and fetched it, then quickly returned to Raimund’s side.

  The climb up to the entrance was more difficult than she anticipated. Raimund had made it look effortless, but the rocks were high and there were few footholds. He scaled the smaller boulder first and then ushered her past, boosting her to the top of the largest boulder with a well-placed push in the backside. In seconds, he had joined her.

  The hole was just large enough to accommodate an adult male, although one who wasn’t carrying any extra weight. Olivia could see nothing but gloom. An overhang from the rock above kept the cavity in darkness. Crouching on his haunches, Raimund shone the torch into the hole.

  A metre below the opening, the rounded edge of another rock created a small platform. The floor below was covered in leaves and what appeared to be animal droppings. Raimund angled the light towards the heart of the mound.

  ‘Do you see?’ he asked.

  She nodded, amazed. Where she had expected solid rock, a fissure had appeared. But it wasn’t just a rift in the stone. As Raimund extended his arm and let the torch illuminate more, she saw that the opening was actually a cavern.

  ‘How deep do you think it goes?’

  He pulled away from the entrance and looked at her. ‘I think it’s time to find out. Are you ready?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘You bet I am.’

  CHAPTER

  20

  The drop to the ledge was simple but the one to the floor was at least double the height. Olivia sat on the edge of the shelf and then tilted forward, falling in an uncoordinated tangle of arms and legs into Raimund’s outstretched arms. Smiling, he gently lowered her to the leaf-and-dung-strewn floor of the cavity.