Kingdom Come (62 page)

“Sir Kieran was married to an Irish heiress,” he held the book out so he could read it better; he didn’t have his glasses handy. Suddenly his eyes widened and his head came up, his accusing gaze locking with hers. “Roisin-Elizabeth.”

Rory’s lips creased with a smile. “Not Roisin,” she said softly. “Rory Elizabeth. Your chroniclers didn’t get it right.  He called me Libby because he didn’t like Rory. He thought it was a man’s name.”

Dan’s eyes threatened to pop from his skull as he glanced back at the book. He just didn’t know what to say.  He finally closed the book and set it to the nearest table, all the while looking bewildered and lost.  Rory went over to him.

“Please,” she begged softly. “Take me to Southwell Minster and be a part of something that no one else in history has been a part of.  Please?”

Dan stared at her, unsure what to think or believe any longer. Before he realized it, he had his car keys and they were headed out to the Land Rover. Rory jumped into the passenger side and Dan tore out of the bailey, kicking up the very carefully kept gravel drive. Since the castle and grounds were just to the northeast of the church and less than a half mile distance, they would make it to their destination in a matter of minutes.

And the minutes were ticking.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Southwell Minster was a massive cathedral near the center of modern Southwell that had been built one hundred years before the Norman invasion.It was an enormous place with two beautiful spires that soared into the blue expanse of sky.  Rory had seen it before, eight hundred years ago when it didn’t look nearly as it did now.  Several transformations had taken place. Dan made two sharp left-hand turns and ended up in the driveway of Southwell Minster.But the big iron gate was locked so he left the car in the driveway as he and Rory jumped out and ran down the long dirt drive to the church.

Southwell Minster was surrounded by a well manicured graveyard but the crypts of the nobles were, as in most other cathedrals, situated inside the church.  Rory rushed into the sanctuary on Dan’s heels, noticing the beautifully kept church and soaring Gothic ceiling. They had never put permanent pews in and folding chairs, in neat rows, lined the floor. 

Rory bolted after Dan as he raced to the front of the church, leapt right up on the pulpit, and continued back down the aisle that divided the choir loft.  In the very back of the church was a room, separated from the rest of the church by an ornately carved Gothic stone wall called a pulpitum.  

Dan disappeared into the room and Rory immediately after him.  But as soon as Rory charged in, she came face to face with several crypts, all of them with beautifully carved effigies.  She slowed her pace; there was something respectful and holy about a place where the dead maintained their eternal rest. Dan was reading the names on the crypts until he came to one near the south side of the room.

“Here,” he motioned Rory over. “Here he is.”

Rory’s heart was pounding in her ears as she moved to the crypt, noting the spectacular effigy on the top of it.  She drew close, feeling more reverence and emotion than she ever thought possible as she gazed at Kieran’s effigy.  She could see his profile, the sightless stone eyes, the helm still on his head exactly like the one he had worn during Richard’s crusade.  She had seen that helm on him many a time. 

With tears in her eyes again, she reached out a delicate hand, running gentle fingers on the bridge of the nose.  Gazing into the stone face, she was unaware when her tears fell and created small dark spots on the porous rock. The moment was spiritual, emotional, and powerful.  She couldn’t even put it into words. She was so close to Kieran that she could almost taste him.

As she reverently touched the effigy, Dan walked around the entire crypt, inspecting the beautiful stone box with scenes from the Third Crusade carved into it, looking for a way in.  He finally stopped, put his hands on his hips, and shook his head.

“I’ve seen this thing many times but never paid much attention to it,” he said. “It’s really remarkable.”

Rory sniffled faintly, not looking up from the effigy that had all of her attention. “More remarkable than you know,” she murmured. “How can we open it?”

Dan scratched his head. “You know that they really cemented these things down. I’m not sure there’s an easy way to get into it.”

As he stood there and speculated, a small man in ecclesiastical garb entered the room.  His pale blue eyes were curious until he recognized Dan. Then he held out his hand affably.

“My lord,” he greeted, shaking the earl’s hand happily. “Very nice to see you today. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Reverend Hogan,” Dan greeted, suddenly wondering what sort of idiot he was about to come off looking like.  He was the earl, after all, and had a reputation to uphold. But to hell with it. “I need to get into this crypt. Do you have any suggestions as to how we can open it?”

Reverend Hogan tried not to look too shocked. “Get into it?” he repeated. “Why on earth do you need to get into it?”

Dan could see that the Reverend thought he was mad. He wasn’t sure he could adequately explain the need.

“I’ve recently discovered that there is something of extreme value to my family buried with this knight.” He hoped that God wouldn’t punish him for lying to a man of the cloth. “I need to get in here. Is there any possibility you can help me?”

Hogan’s white eyebrows lifted. “But… my lord, I’m sure you understand that this crypt is of great historical significance. The age alone is….”

“I understand all of that and I will pay to replace it,” Dan cut the man off. “I will also pay to re-roof the pepperpot spires on the cathedral. I know you have been trying to raise money for that cause. I will pay for whatever the donations don’t cover if you’ll help me get into this crypt.”

Hogan stared at him.  His gaze inevitably moved to the lovely woman standing by the crypt, gazing so lovingly at the effigy.  He sensed that she had something to do with the earl’s request and to say that he was confused was to put it mildly.  He finally shook his head.

“The Very Reverend Loring will be very thankful for your generosity, of course,” he said. “But we should probably discuss with him the possibility of opening this crypt.”

Dan stood his ground. “It’s my family’s crypt and I want it open. There’s no law that says I can’t open it.”

Hogan wasn’t about to tangle with the earl. He’d known Dan Hage since he had been a young boy, following his career through Eton and Sandhurst, a career in the Royal Marines and even a couple of years with the Leicester Tigers Rugby Club.  Dan was a fine, strong example of the current British aristocracy. But the man didn’t hear the word ‘no’ very often and Reverend Hogan didn’t want to offend him.  He was forming his careful reply when three more men suddenly appeared in the old room; startled, he turned to see two men in suits and one very blue-eyed, crew-cut man in casual jeans.  The man with the ice blue eyes moved directly to the woman, ignoring everyone else.

“Rory,” Bud went to her, deeply concerned. “What happened? We saw the earl’s car leave and thought we’d better follow. Why are you here?”

Rory grabbed Bud by the arms, her hazel eyes wide with delirium. “I can’t explain it right now,” she insisted quietly. “We need to get this crypt open. Dan is trying to convince the Reverend.”

Bud looked to the earl, confused, before turning back to Rory. “Why do we need to open it now?”

“Please, Bud,” there was great urgency in her voice. “You’re the resident genius.  Do you see a way into this?”

Bud’s face was contorted with confusion but he’d learned long ago not to argue or make demands of Rory. It was better just to do what she wanted and ask questions later.  His focus turned to the crypt.

“Seriously?” he asked. “You want to open this? It’s hundreds of years old, Rory. It’s a priceless artifact.”

“I know that,” Rory nodded eagerly. “But we need to open it.”

“Whose is it?”

“Kieran’s.” She met Bud’s surprised gaze with calm reassurance. “Can you please figure out how to do it, Bud? Please?”

His gaze lingered on her a moment before returning it to the crypt.  He put his hand on the slab that held the effigy, tried to move it, before bending over to examine it more closely.

“Are you okay with this, Lord Hage?” Bud asked as he practically stood on his head in order to gain a better look at how the slab lid fit atop the sarcophagus. “It doesn’t look like it will be a problem to lift this top with some manpower and crow bars, but it’s going to end up on the floor and damaged.  We don’t have a crane to support it. We’ll have to let it drop.”

Dan waved a hand. “I’ll get it fixed.”

Bud stood up and looked at him. “This effigy is eight hundred years old,” he lifted an eyebrow. “We’ll be damaging a pristine artifact.”

“Bud!” Rory hissed through clenched teeth.  “What are you doing?”

He looked at her. “Making sure Lord Hage understands what will happen if we pry this off without taking the time to properly support it. It’s going to fall over and probably break.”

Rory’s expression was both serious and pleading. “What’s inside is more important,” she whispered. “As much as I hate to see the effigy of my husband damaged, I’m willing to take the risk. Please, Bud; you have to trust me.”

Bud’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer, knowing they had come this far.  They couldn’t turn back now. “All right,” he sighed reluctantly, looking at the Reverend. “If you have a couple of crow bars, we can probably slide this off.”

Hogan looked stricken. “I’ve not given permission yet.”

“I have,” Dan said in a tone that suggested he not be disobeyed. He looked at Hogan. “Go get what he needs. I’ll take full responsibility.”

The Reverend hesitated a moment before very quickly walking away.  Once he left the room, Saladin went over to Dan to engage him in quiet conversation while Bud continued to silently examine the crypt.  Rory just stood there, staring at the effigy, her mind already with Kieran deep inside the stone. Every fiber of her being was reaching out to touch him. Marc wandered up behind her, watching her as she stared at the crypt.

“Did the letter tell you anything?” he asked softly.

Snapped from her train of thought, Rory turned to him. “We’re about to find out.”

“Then it really
was
meant for you?”          

She nodded faintly and returned her attention to the crypt. As Marc remained behind her in confused silence, Rory’s attention turned to Bud as he moved around the crypt and ran his fingers in the crevice between the lid and the sarcophagus.  Nobody said a word while Bud examined, Rory stood, and Dan observed. The lawyers seemed to be the only ones out of the loop, truly clueless as to what was about to take place. But that ignorance was about to end.

Reverend Hogan returned a short time later with a crowbar, a metal shovel, and two teenage boys.  The boys were carrying the implements.

“This is all we had in the gardener’s shed,” he told Dan. “Will these work?”

Bud reached over and took the crowbar from a red-haired, freckle-faced kid of about fifteen.  He tested the weight; it was a solid, heavy bar.  He slung it over one shoulder and took the metal shovel; it, too, was heavy and well made.  He inspected the rounded end of it and shrugged.

“We can give it a shot,” he said, handing the shovel over to a surprised-looking Marc. “I’ll use the crowbar to lift and you use the shovel to shove it forward.  Lord Hage, why don’t you, Saladin and the boys shove from this end? Let’s get the momentum working in the same direction.”