Lords of Retribution (Lords of Avalon series)

by Richards, K. R.

  Marrek humphed. “I don’t use my hands.”

  Creed entered the room and handed Marrek his eagle headed cane.

  “Thank you.” He gave Creed a nod.

  Seconds later he held a blade to the throat of the bound young man whose eyes were now as round as saucers. Marrek watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Nor will I cut your throat, at least not in the beginning. My friend died a painful death. I believe in an eye for an eye. Since he was poisoned, I shall carve out your entrails. You will live for a time, as you bleed to death. The pain will actually be worse than poison. I’ll give you one more chance, Jonesy. Who are your accomplices?”

  The young man shook his head. His lips trembled as he spoke, “They’ll kill me.”

  With lightning speed, Marrek bent and produced a long knife from his boot. The tip soon rested against Jonesy’s abdomen. He handed his cane to Creed. Marrek removed his watch and opened it. “You have three minutes until your entrails litter the floor. I’m very good at what I do,” St. Erth said in a confident tone.

  The lad looked about to cry. “Ain’t nowhere safe in all of England, sir. Everyone who talks dies. Some of them got arrested in Somerset a couple months ago and they got to them in the gaol. There ain’t no safe place to hide, I can tell you! The leader he knows everything and everyone, so they say. He can make anything happen he wants to.”

  “What about Australia?” Marrek posed, “I can see you have work and lodging. You are a murderer, so you would be sent to a friend of mine. If you prove your worth, and keep your nose clean, you can gain your freedom in say, five years. Your name will be changed, and Richard ‘Jonesy’ Jones will be reported as dying by my hand this day. You will be taken out in a casket so all think you are dead, and you will be well protected until your ship sails.”

  He looked to his watch. “Ah, you have only one and three-quarters minutes remaining. I apologize, I got a little wordy.” Marrek shrugged. “That is the time you have left, regardless.”

  “It’s Mary, the upstairs maid. And then there’s her beau, Gillie in the stable. Gillie weren’t in on it from the beginning, but Mary took a liking to him. He was interested in our operation. The Reverend, he had a word with Gillie and put him on with us.”

  “Thirty seconds remain, Jonesy. Who do you report to?”

  “The Reverend until he fled. There’s a new man now, with one eye. His name is Garlock. ‘Tis all he goes by.”

  “I have heard of Garlock. Where is he hiding?” Marrek asked.

  “I can’t say for sure. He mentioned he’d come from Truro when I met him.”

  “Fifteen seconds remaining, where do you meet him?”

  “Garlock, I’ve met only once. It was this morning. I met him up the road, closer to St. Cleer. I met the Reverend in different places. St Cleer’s well once. King Doniart’s stone once. We met at the trees beyond edge of the garden here, several times.”

  “Time is up,” Marrek said. He still held his knife against the young man’s belly.

  Jonesy turned his face upward and gave Marrek a pleading look.

  “That’s not much information. Anything else I should know if I want to find Garlock, the Reverend and the Leader of the Knights of the Brown Order?”

  Jonesy closed his eyes tightly. He swallowed before he spoke. Sweat beaded upon his brow. “Garlock and Madingly both referred to the Leader as His Lordship.”

  “Anything else? That’s not very helpful. England is full of His Lordships.”

  “The Reverend came to Cornwall to look for a carved stone. The leader believed it could be in St. Mabyn, or at Menadue, after hearing it was written about in some old book or some such thing. It’s supposed to have the location of some important relic carved on the back.”

  “What was his purpose in becoming engaged to Miss Penrose, do you know?”

  “The Reverend talked a lot. He was a bastard of some high and mighty Lord in London. He was aiming to marry Miss Penrose to up his standing like. He wanted to be a real gentleman. He always said it was his birthright. He said he’d kill her grandfather and brother, take over their lands, sell them, and take the money. After a time he didn’t like her much, so he was thinking of doing her in as well, shortly after the wedding. He said he’d wait to kill her on their journey, no one here would be the wiser. He planned to take her sister with him. He said she would be no problem to handle, seeing as how she’s, well,” Jonesy swallowed, “seeing as how she’s affected. He fancied that one, he did.”

  Marrek remembered something Samuel had said to him. “Do you know anything about a diary?”

  “Garlock was to get it in Devon; but apparently the gentleman’s sister had it and she made out for Cornwall. He was almost upon her when she met up with one of your men at Camelford. He tried to shoot them but missed, the horses spooked and the gentleman and the lady, they got away. Garlock told me that. I was to keep my ears open about the diary and watch the girl. So was Mary.”

  “What’s in the diary, Jonesy?”

  “Something the leader wants is all I know. I know not what. The gentleman who wrote it had found some clue to the whereabouts of something the leader wanted. It must be something like the Black Rood. The leader wanted that. Garlock offed the man who had the information he needed and the Leader found this Black Cross. Big it were. I saw it. He collects things, he does, so both the Reverend and Garlock say. The Reverend said it was his one weakness, his obsession as it were.”

  Marrek sighed as if he were disappointed in what Jonesy had told him. “Do you have anything else at all that will give me a reason to keep you alive?”

  Jonesy scratched his head nervously. “You are St. Erth?”

  Marrek nodded.

  “Garlock mentioned yesterday the leader did not think you would return from India. He said you weren’t supposed to make it back. When you did, he was angry that you married your lady. Seems she figured into other plans, and some Lord was made mighty unhappy by it all. It caused the Leader a bit of a problem. Garlock mentioned it. This is all I know, I swear, sir!”

  “You will be guarded. Samuel Potts’ body will be removed shortly. I hope that your food will not contain any poison. We will get Gillie and Mary.”

  Marrek and Creed left the cellar. Diggory followed them after giving instructions to the five men guarding the cellar.

  Marrek’s thoughts raced. It appeared Isaac Slaughter’s intentions for courting Wenna were self-serving. He planned to marry into a respected family, use their good name, steal their wealth, and eliminate them. With the exception of Senny. The fate he had planned for her was worse than death, of that Marrek was certain. Lady Tuesday and Wenna were in danger now, as well. Catherine, his own wife, was in danger!

  “The altercation you had in India before you left was no coincidence,” Creed surmised as they left the room.

  “No, apparently it was an assassination attempt; which thankfully failed, and quite miserably so. Catherine is in danger. No doubt, the Leader promised to return her to the Marquess of Burrow. We must start our surveillance of the Marquess again. Other than the Reverend and Garlock, Burrow is the only connection we have who may know the identity of the Leader of the Knights of the Brown Order. That and the references Madingly provided Gabriel for the living in St. Mabyn. Get some of your men back to watching Burrow, at once. We must be discreet. He can’t know he is being watched. Soon, you and I will pay him a visit.”

  Creed nodded.

  Marrek and Creed slipped back into the drawing room after they helped Diggory take Gillie from the stables and the upstairs maid to the cellar. Diggory took over for them after the new prisoners were locked into the cellar with Jonesy.

  Marrek slid into the empty chair beside his wife he had previously occupied. With a smile, he took her hand and enfolded it in his. He would make certain no one harmed his wife. Ever.

  Once Marrek and Creed returned, the party settled about the drawing room to share the remaining information on the translation of the scrolls and t
he Secretum Domini.

  Rowena announced that the last pages of William Dulac’s Secretum Domini revealed that there was a relic left by Jesus and hidden in Glastonbury by Dunstan. William Dulac, her ancestor, had never been able to find any reference to the location.

  Most of the others had no new information to offer.

  Jack told the others about finding the book written by the monk, Roger Selgraver, which stated the original stone was given to the Chenwith in the twelfth century.

  When Owen’s turn came, he stood and smiled. “This morning, Libby and I helped Harry decipher the passages we were uncertain of in Roger Selgraver’s scroll. There were several scrolls still at the Priory during Roger Selgraver’s time that dated from the religious community on that site when Jesus and Joseph of Arimathea visited. From those scrolls, the unnamed Knight, who engraved the symbols upon the Norman arch at St. Anthony’s Chapel, found the location of the relic left by Jesus in Glastonbury and he engraved it onto the back of the original stone made by the hands of Jesus before it was given to the Chenwith.” He grinned.

  The room was silent for a full moment before the buzz of conversation started.

  Trevan nodded. “Ladies and gentleman, I believe we now have the reason the Knights of the Brown Order are after us. They want a relic left by Jesus, and to find it they need the stone he carved upon as well. I don’t think I have to remind you that the Knights of the Brown Order will surely try to get the information we found in the scrolls and what we find on the carvings from St. Anthony’s chapel.”

  “As soon as it is safe we will travel the short distance to Fairy Cross and look for this stone. Until that time Gabriel has alerted his staff to watch for intruders and to keep a close eye on the house, gardens and grounds at Fairy Cross Court,” Harry announced as their meeting concluded.

  As Marrek hoped, the ladies excused themselves. They claimed there were many preparations to make before the wedding the next morning.

  At Marrek’s request, Trevan held the gentlemen there. Marrek relayed all he had learned from the prisoner, Jonesy, to his colleagues.

  “He was going to kill Wenna,” Trevan sighed deeply and shook his head in disbelief.

  “And keep my Zenny,” Gabriel was also shaken.

  “Jack, do you know of Tuesday having a diary.”

  “A diary?” Jack thought a moment. “Oh, yes. She keeps Charlie’s journal he was writing in before he died. She reads portions of it when she has time. She says it helps her feel close to him.”

  “Does she have it with her?” Marrek asked hopefully.

  “She does.” Jack frowned, “So this is why someone shot at us on our journey from Devon to Menadue. They were aiming for Tuesday.”

  “I’m afraid so.” Marrek ran a hand through his dark hair. “We need to read the journal, Jack.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “I don’t know. Jonesy, the mole, didn’t know what was in it, only that the leader wanted it. The leader collects things, and there was some information Charlie had that he needed to find something. A one-eyed man by the name of Garlock was following Tuesday and was almost upon her when she went into your parlour in the Inn at Camelford. He followed you both when you left. He shot at her. He meant to kill you both then take the diary.”

  Marrek continued, “Jonesy said the Leader not only collects things, but also kills to obtain them. He said the leader had a gentleman killed in recent months who knew the location of a Black Rood. The man was killed. His information was taken. The Leader found and now owns this Black Rood.”

  “A black rood?” Lyon said in concern. “Sophia’s father, Nathan Hart, a fellow Avalon Society member, was killed while looking for a Black Rood. The research was his life’s work. He told Sophia he was close to finding it. Suddenly, without any explanation, he started drinking and gambling and lost everything he owned. He was believed to be killed by cutthroats outside a gaming hell in Town. After his death his research could not be found.”

  “A Black Rood, sacred scrolls, the Glastonbury Sapphire and the cruets containing the blood and sweat of Jesus Christ at the crucifixion. A stone carved by Jesus. A collector of Holy Treasure,” Trevan said with a low whistle. He looked to Owen, “What was Charlie working on before or immediately after Glastonbury, do you know?”

  Owen answered somberly, “He was interested in Templars as always. More recently, he was convinced that the original shroud covering the body of the crucified Jesus was hidden away by the Templars and that they used a forgery or replica to display in public. He was interested in finding the original shroud. Charlie believed the shroud was stored somewhere before the Templars were captured and disbanded. He does not think the original shroud has ever been located. He was corresponding with a gentleman in Scotland. They exchanged information, and Charlie was awaiting a response on a particular matter. He believed the shroud in Italy to be the forgery and the hidden one to be the original.”

  Owen sighed sadly and continued, “This was the last he told me, which was just after he returned from Glastonbury. In fact, we were discussing this issue the day Libby was kidnapped from Roseland Abbey by the Brown Coats.”

  “When last we were in Templecombe, he wanted to see the head of Christ painted on a panel I keep in the safe at Horethorne Hall. The painting is believed to have been copied from the Mandylion or the actual Shroud. It has been at Horethorne Hall for centuries. It originally came from the Templar Preceptory at Templecombe,” Micah added. “Some say it and the shroud were briefly hidden in the original Horethorne Manor before the Templars were hunted and disbanded.

  Harry nodded, “Yes, I remember us discussing that at Horethorne Hall. I saw the painting when we were all in your safe room at Templecombe. The panel is very old.”

  “Napoleon coveted such Holy treasures for the power he felt it would bring him, not unlike other despots in history. I think it is safe to say we are dealing with someone looking to become more powerful, and someone a little off mentally,” Marrek surmised.

  “Someone who will kill to get what he wants,” Harry looked to Jack and said, “We need to get that diary from Tuesday and lock it up where it will be safe. We need to read it!”

  Jack nodded. He knew his lady would not part with it easily. He would get it from her regardless. She was in danger. Jack vowed he would keep his soon-to-be wife safe at all costs.

  “I will get it, at once.” Jack turned and headed for the drawing room doors.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Excuse me, Lady Tuesday. May I have a word with you?” Jack asked politely as he stepped into the ladies’ parlour where the females congregated.

  “Yes, Lord Elveston.” Tuesday rose and flashed him a wide smile as she walked toward him. She accepted the arm he offered her and allowed him to lead her from the room.

  Tuesday noted his serious expression. “What is it, Jack?” she asked when they were far enough away from the room.

  “Sweeting, let’s go upstairs. I received some alarming news just now regarding your brother.”

  Tuesday nodded.

  Jack noted she worried her full lower lip with her teeth as they climbed the stairs.

  He placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, sweeting.”

  His lady turned her gorgeous French blue eyes upon him and smiled up at him. At the realization that she trusted him completely, Jack felt warmth in his heart. His lady trusted him. He clearly recognized the trust in her eyes.

  The thought that someone meant his lovely Tuesday harm frightened him. It was at that moment he realized exactly how deeply he cared for her and why everything was so different with Tuesday.

  He grinned at her then. “You are so beautiful, Trouble!” he whispered as he leaned close to her. His lips softly grazed the outside of her ear.

  Tuesday beamed up at him.

  Jack opened the door and drew her into her bedchamber. He walked straight to the clothespress. He opened a cabinet, and there
beneath her unmentionables he withdrew Charlie’s journal. She treasured it. Nearly every evening when he came to her room she was reading it. He had watched her put it away several times.

  He held it up. “This journal is why someone shot at you on our journey to Cornwall, sweeting. The shooter was aiming for you. He planned to kill me as well. And take this.”

  “Charlie’s journal. Why?” Tuesday looked at him in confusion.

  “We don’t know. We need to read it. We’ll lock it away until we catch this leader of the Knights of the Brown Order, primarily for your safety. Will you trust me to look after it for you?”

  “Of course I trust you with it, Jack. Will I get it back? It’s Charlie’s…”

  He saw tears well in her large azure eyes. Jack stepped closer to her. “Of course, my love. When it is safe for you to have it back, I will make certain you get it.” Jack brushed a loose tendril of sandy hair back from her cheek that had slipped from her coiffure.

  Tuesday looked up into his dark amber eyes. He had called her my love. He had never done so. “And if you take it, will I still be in danger?”

  Jack nodded. He set the book upon the bed and framed her lovely face with his hands. “Yes, but don’t you worry, Tuesday. I do not want you to be sad or frightened before our wedding. I want it to be the happiest day for us both. I will protect you with my life, and do you know why?” Jack asked her softly as he smiled down at her.

  Tuesday shook her head. She didn’t know what to say. Was it too much to hope…

  “I am madly in love with you, Lady Tuesday Inwood. I will not let anything happened to you because I could never be whole without you, sweeting. I love you. Passionately.” He bent his head to kiss her.

  Before he could capture her lips, Tuesday whispered, “I love you too, Jack!”

  He kissed her deeply. Tuesday held nothing back. Her arms wound about his neck and her body pressed into his. Passion flamed easily between them. Her hand moved to work the fastenings on his trousers. Jack lifted her up and pulled her black skirts up as she wrapped her legs around him. For the second time that day he made hurried, passionate love to his lady. This time was different for Jack. This time, he knew Tuesday loved him and he knew that he loved her. Neither held back, they both raced headlong toward their release.