by K. M. Ashman
‘How long have you been here?’
‘Not long, I was trying to pick the lock when you returned.’
‘You said you are seeking a missing woman, what makes you think she is here?’
‘The van she was abducted in came here yesterday morning. At least, I think she was in the van.’
‘You’re not sure?’
‘Look, it’s a bit complicated,’ he said, ‘and I’d love to explain but I think her life may be in danger.’
‘What do you intend to do?’
‘To be honest, I’m not sure yet,’ he said, ‘I would like to have a look around and try to find her if I can but that depends on you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I know it is asking a lot but as you’re here, perhaps you can make this a bit easier. If you could just make some suggestions as to the best place to look, I can get out of here even quicker and leave you to your business.’
‘Just wait a minute,’ said Bernice, ‘you break into a holy house with some extraordinary story about abduction and expect me to help you. Who do you think you are?’
‘I know it looks strange,’ said Brandon, ‘but you have to admit, there are things going on around here that are hard to understand.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, for a start, the whole building is guarded by a dozen men with guns. That and the fact that the last place anyone saw my friend alive was in a house in London and a van matching the description of the one outside was seen leaving that address less than an hour after she went in.’
‘What is the address?’ asked Bernice.
‘I don’t know the details but it is just off Victoria Station.’
‘Isis house,’ said Bernice quietly, ‘the property belongs to the order and we use it when carrying out charity work in London.’
Brandon fell quiet and stared at the nun in silence as she obviously digested all the information. Finally, she looked up at him again.
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘what do you want me to do?’
‘Nothing much,’ he said, ‘just describe the inside of the convent to me. Think of anywhere they may keep someone locked up, an attic, an office, even a cellar. Somewhere like this must be riddled with old rooms.’
‘Look, Mr …?’
‘Walker,’ he said, ‘Brandon Walker’
‘Look, Mr Walker, I don’t know if what you’re telling me is true or not but I agree there may be something strange going on.’
‘Like what, exactly?’
‘Like the murder of the Mother Superior,’ she said dramatically.
‘What?’
Bernice spent the next few minutes explaining the details of what had happened.
‘Did anyone call the police?’ he asked.
‘No, they said there was no need. They said that everything would be taken care of.’
‘Who did?’
‘Sister Agnes.’
‘And who is she?’
‘One of the senior sisters. It is rumoured that she will replace the Mother Superior when all this is over.’
‘Do you think she had anything to do with her predecessor’s death?’
‘No,’ snapped Bernice, ‘absolutely not. She was as grief stricken as the rest of us.’
‘Acting perhaps?’
‘Why would she? The Mother Superior was very ill and it was only a matter of time before Sister Agnes took her place. Besides, Sister Agnes has devoted her life to service of the Holy Mother. She could no more take a life than I could.’
‘Okay,’ said Brandon, ‘I will take your word for it, thank you for your candour. Now, could you tell me, where is the best place to start my search?’
‘I can do better than that,’ said Sister Bernice, ‘I will take you myself.’
‘You know where she is?’
‘No but there is a place where I have never been. It is kept locked and the senior sisters go to great lengths to keep it secret.’
‘Okay but there’s one more thing before we go.’ He retrieved his phone from his pocket.
‘Who are you calling?’ she asked.
‘The police,’ he said, ‘I think the time has come to involve the authorities.’
‘I think you will find there is no signal here,’ said Bernice, ‘nor anywhere else in this valley, for that matter.’
Brandon checked the phone, confirming what she said was true.
‘Is there a landline?’ he asked.
‘We are an order of prayer and dedication,’ said Bernice, ‘we have no need of such things.’
‘But what if there is an emergency or you need medical help?’
‘Maximillian, the caretaker, drives to the top of the hill at the end of the valley. It is the only place you can get a signal.’
Brandon took off his waterproof jacket and placed it on the back of the chair. He removed his gun and placed it on the table, along with an item similar to a mobile phone but with a thick antenna like a walkie-talkie.
‘What’s that?’ asked Bernice.
‘Emergency beacon,’ said Brandon, ‘if I switch it on, it sends a request for help and brings support.’
‘Can I see?’
Brandon nodded and Bernice picked the beacon up to examine it. She could see three LED lights on top, all flashing red.
‘Why don’t you use this?’ she asked.
‘Pointless,’ said Brandon, ‘it works on a similar system as a mobile phone but sweeps all the networks for an available signal. Those red lights mean there is no signal whatsoever, besides, it’s not really warranted at the moment. It’s not as if I am in any danger yet and when that thing goes off, all sorts of shit kicks into action.’
‘So you are on your own?’
‘For the moment but I have made alternative arrangements. If I don’t report in within the next few hours, Murray will make a call and this place will be swarming with good guys within the hour.’
Bernice placed the beacon on the bed.
‘Who is Murray?’ she asked.
‘Long story,’ said Brandon, picking up his gun, ‘now, show me this locked door you told me about.’
‘What do you need that for?’ she asked.
‘There are guards everywhere,’ said Brandon, ‘if we are seen, I don’t want them thinking you helped me. At least this way, they will think you have been forced.’
‘Okay,’ said Bernice, ‘let’s get this over with.’
----
They made their way down through the corridors and toward the hall without meeting anyone. Bernice opened the doors and made her way quickly toward the image of the Holy Mother. She quickly ran her hands over the carving again, searching for the release switch she knew had to be there.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Brandon.
‘I don’t know how it opens,’ she said.
‘Are you sure it is a door?’
‘Yes, I saw it open earlier.’
‘How did they do it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Let me see.’
Bernice allowed Brandon to replace her and he stood in front of the carving in silence.
‘Explain what you saw, exactly,’ he said.
‘Sister Agnes stood in front of the Holy Mother in veneration and the door seemed to open by itself.’
‘Explain veneration.’
She held out her arms in the shape of the crucifix.
‘Like this?’ asked Brandon, stretching out his arms.
‘Yes,’ answered Bernice.
Brandon’s arms couldn’t stretch to their full extent as they each met the reveals of the alcove on either side.
‘I wonder,’ he said and gave a push with each hand.
The panels clicked and the carving slid to one side.
‘Bingo,’ he said, staring down the corridor to his front.
Bernice looked over his shoulder and into the dim corridor. This was no ordinary passage but a tunnel carved out of solid rock, the scars of ancient tools still visible on either
side where it had been worked to make it wider.
‘Come on,’ said Brandon, ‘let’s take a look.’ He walked slowly forward, his gun held down at his waist, ready to be pulled into the aim at a second’s notice. As soon as they entered the corridor, the sliding door closed behind them with a click and they walked forward nervously.
Ten metres in, they passed a single doorway cut into the right hand corridor wall and though the door had no lock, Brandon could see it could be secured from the outside by a large metal bolt that slid across the door and into the rock reveal. At the far end, they could see another door, though this one had an inbuilt lock.
‘Your friend must be in there,’ said Brandon, ‘where does it lead?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Bernice, ‘but I have a bad feeling about this. There should be no secrets within the order.’
Brandon fingered his trigger nervously and tried the door handle. As expected, it was locked but after a moment’s pause, Bernice produced her keys and gave them to Brandon. He tried a few before hearing a satisfying click and after a brief glance toward Bernice, eased the door slowly away from him.
Immediately, a breath of warm air hit him and he eased his way sideways through the tiny gap, closely followed by Bernice. They both took one step beyond the doorway before pausing to stare at the scene below them in awe.
In front of them was a stairway leading down to the floor of a cavern the size of a large church, warmly illuminated by hundreds of candles. At the centre of the cavern, a fire burned brightly in a pit sunk into the rocky floor, helping the candles to send flickering shadows around the cave-like space. Leading away from the doorway, in either direction, a landing followed the walls of the cave, providing a good view of the entire area. A short perimeter wall edged the landing, providing a natural barrier from the drop to the floor below.
Brandon and Sister Bernice crouched down behind the wall and peered into the cavern.
‘Is that your colleague?’ whispered Brandon, indicating a lone figure near one of the walls.
‘Yes,’ said Bernice. Sister Agnes was replenishing candles in the hundreds of tiny alcoves cut into the walls.
Brandon looked down into the cavern, taking in all the detail. There were several doors sunk into the rocky walls, each closed tight and secured with a locking bar slid into the frames. At the far end of the cave and half way up the wall, a small wooden balcony extended into the cavern from an arch cut into the rock and a small wooden stairway descended to the floor.
‘What is this place?’ he whispered.
‘I have no idea,’ she said.
‘Some sort of hidden temple?’ suggested Brandon.
‘It would seem so,’ said Bernice, ‘but why, I don’t know.’
Down at ground level, Sister Agnes finished her task and started to collect her things.
‘Come on,’ said Brandon, ‘let’s get out of here before we are seen. I need to find out what we are dealing with here. Do you know where I can find any paperwork like records or anything?’
‘That room we passed back in the corridor looked like some sort of office,’ said Bernice, ‘you could look there, I suppose.’
‘Perfect,’ said Brandon, ‘let’s go.’
They retraced their steps and stopped outside the barred door.
‘I don’t think this is an office,’ said Brandon, ‘there’s a locking bar on the outside. Why would there be a need to lock someone inside an office?’
‘It probably used to be a cell,’ said Bernice, ‘my own cell is exactly the same. It may be worth a look, though.’
Brandon slid back the bar and stepped inside. Immediately, he could see the room was empty except for a few items of basic furniture. He wandered around, looking for anything that may be of interest. Suddenly the door slammed shut and he heard the sound of the locking bar being slid home on the outside. He ran to the door and pulled on the handle but to no avail.
‘Bernice, what do you think you’re doing?’ he shouted through the door.
‘I’m sorry,’ the nun’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door, ‘I don’t know what is going on here but as far as I can see, you seem to be part of it.’
‘Let me out,’ said Brandon urgently, ‘can’t you see I am trying to help?’
‘You may well be,’ said Bernice, ‘but too much is happening for me to take in, it’s better you stay in there until I can make sense of all this.’
‘Bernice, don’t be stupid,’ hissed Brandon, ‘you are in terrible danger, we all are. You have to let me out before it’s too late.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Walker, but it’s better this way. I won’t be long, I promise.’
He heard the sound of her echoing footsteps rushing back down the passageway toward the main hall and walked over to sit on the ancient chair in the corner, at a loss as to what do next.
----
Chapter 34
Britannia 65AD
Dragus stood at the back of the cave they had called home for the last few months. All smell of the pigs had gone and the cave was sub divided by walls of willow for privacy. Rubria had her own large space as befitted her position whilst Dragus and Rose each had their own, smaller stalls. The centurion and the slave had grown close over the last few months and most nights saw Rose creeping into his bed space when Rubria was sleeping. Despite the obvious physical benefits, they had come to realise they both had strong feelings for each other.
‘Soup?’ asked Rose, walking up to him with an iron tankard containing a hearty broth.
‘Thanks,’ he said and nodded toward Rubria’s stall, ‘how is she?’
‘As good as can be expected,’ she said, ‘she seems to have come to terms with it at last.’
Not long after moving into the cave, Rubria had realised what was happening to her body and at first, found the idea repugnant. However, when it became obvious there was nothing she could do about it, she became resigned to the idea and started to make the cave as comfortable as possible for the baby’s arrival.
‘Has she said who the father is?’ asked Dragus.
‘She hasn’t said anything, except she has lain with no man voluntarily.’
‘Then my worst fears are confirmed, the child’s father must be Nero.’
‘By the gods, Dragus,’ said Rose, ‘do you realise what you are saying? Because, if that is indeed the case, then it is no ordinary baby in her womb but the child of an emperor. If it is born male, he would be the firstborn heir to Nero and be the rightful successor to the most powerful role in the world. If Nero found out he had a son, he would scour the far corners of the earth to bring him back to Rome.’
‘That’s if his enemies didn’t find the child first,’ said Dragus, ‘they would be just as keen to find any heir, though their motives would be far different, I fear.’
‘Then that’s it,’ said Rose, ‘eventually the truth will come out and as soon as it does, our fate will be sealed.’
‘We have to get from here,’ said Dragus, ‘and find somewhere we can settle down in safety.’
‘We cannot leave now,’ said Rose, ‘the birth is too near and besides, Blackthorn won’t let us go. He sees Rubria as a bride for Reynard, remember?’
‘I know,’ said Dragus, ‘but we can’t stay here. I have to convince Blackthorn to let us go.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Dragus, ‘but I’ll think of something. I have to.’
----
Dragus sat nervously in front of Blackthorn in the chieftain’s hut. He had been invited to share a skin of wine with the leader and the circle of elders sitting around the fire. He looked across the flames to stare at the man who held the fates of all three fugitives in his hands. Blackthorn took a last drink from the skin and belched before staring at the Roman.
‘So,’ he said, ‘the woman’s time is nearly here.’
‘It is,’ said Dragus, ‘the women of the tribe are with her. The child will be with us before the sun sets tomorrow.’
‘Good,’ said the chieftain, ‘my son has been patient long enough. He will take her as his bride as soon as she has seen her first blood after the birth.’
‘Blackthorn,’ said Dragus, ‘you have indeed been very patient and we are grateful for your protection and hospitality but I am not sure about the joining of your son and Rubria.’
‘Your worries are not my concern,’ said Blackthorn, ‘the union will go ahead as discussed.’
‘But she is a Roman priestess,’ said Dragus, ‘a Vestal Virgin who knows nothing about such things.’
‘She will learn our ways,’ said Blackthorn, ‘and bear me many grandsons. What better fate could a woman have than to marry the son of a chieftain?’
Dragus’ head bowed and he paused before speaking again.
‘There is more,’ he said, ‘something you should know.’
Blackthorn waited for him to continue.
‘I think I know the child’s father.’
Blackthorn’s eyes raised in surprise.
‘You said she had lain with no man.’
‘And she hasn’t, at least not voluntarily,’ answered Dragus, ‘but she was raped and would not name the rapist because of who he is.’
‘Do you want me to kill this man?’ asked Blackthorn.
Dragus hid a smile.
‘That is a very appealing thought,’ said Dragus, ‘but I fear he is out of the reach of even your mighty sword. It is none other than Nero himself.’
‘The Roman king?’ laughed Blackthorn, ‘if this is so, then she was not raped. A king can take any woman he wants.’
‘Emperor,’ corrected Dragus, ‘and in our lands, rape is rape. We cannot do anything about it but there may be repercussions.’
‘Explain.’
‘The women are saying the child will be a girl. If this is true, then there may not be a problem but if it is a boy, he will be the son of a Roman emperor and heir to the empire. If this news gets out, the Romans will send an army to retrieve him or kill him depending on who gives the order.’
‘Why should this concern me?’
‘They will take the boy and his mother away. You will be seen as an accomplice whatever the outcome and they will wipe your tribe out. Every man, woman and child will die or be sold into slavery. You and your family will be taken to Rome and paraded through the streets as a common criminal before being strangled in front of the Senate.’
