“The farm’s on fire,” he said, putting his foot to the floor.
“Arson?”
The nearest neighbour’s half a kilometre away. He claims to have heard a couple of loud explosions, then saw the flames and called the firefighters. By the time they’d arrived, the fire had already taken hold.“
“Is there anybody in there?” said Moureau anxiously.
“They don’t know,” he said grimly.
Shelagh was drifting in and out of consciousness.
She had no idea how long it had been since the men had gone. One by one her senses were shutting down. She was no longer aware of her physical surroundings. Arms, legs, body, head, she felt as if she was floating, weightless. She wasn’t aware of heat or of cold, nor the stones and dirt beneath her. She was cocooned in her own world. Safe. Free.
She wasn’t alone. Faces floated into her mind, people from the past and present, a procession of silent images.
The light seemed to be growing stronger again. Somewhere, just out of her line of vision, there was a juddering white beam of light, sending dancing shadows running up the walls and across the rocky roof of the cave. Like a kaleidoscope, the colours were shifting and changing shape before her eyes.
She thought she could see a man. Very old. She felt his cold, dry hands on her brow, skin as dry as tracing paper. His voice telling her it was going to be all right. That she was safe now.
Now Shelagh could hear other voices, whispering in her head, murmuring, speaking softly, caressing her.
She felt black wings at her shoulder, cradling her tenderly, like a child.
Calling her home.
Then, spoiling it, another voice.
“Turn round.”
Will realised the roaring was inside his head, the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears, thick and heavy. The sound of the bullets reverberating again and again in his memory.
He swallowed hard and tried to catch his breath. The pungent smell of the leather in his nose and mouth was too strong. It turned his stomach.
How many shots had he heard? Two? Three?
His two bodyguards got out. Will could hear them talking, arguing with Francois-Baptiste perhaps. Slowly, careful not to draw attention, he levered himself up a little on the back seat of the car. In the light of the headlights, he could see Francois-Baptiste standing over Authie’s dead body, arm hanging by his side, the gun still in his hand. It looked as if someone had thrown a can of red paint over the door and bonnet of Authie’s car. Blood, tissue and shards of bone. What remained of Authie’s skull.
The nausea rose in his throat. Will swallowed again. Forced himself to keep looking. Francois-Baptiste started to bend down, hesitated, then quickly turned back instead.
“Even though the repeated doses of the drug had left his arms and legs unresponsive, Will felt his body stiffen. He dropped back on the seat, grateful at least they hadn’t put him back in the claustrophobic box in the box of the car.
The door closest to his head was jerked open and Will felt the familiar callused hands on his arms and neck, dragging him across the seat and; him on to the ground.
The night air was cool on his face and bare legs. The robe they’d dressed him in was long and wide, although tied at the waist. Will felt self-conscious, vulnerable. And terrified.
He could see Authie’s body lying motionless on the gravel. Next to it, tucked behind the front wheel of the car, he could see a tiny red light blinking on and off.
“Portez-le jusqu’a la grotte! Francois-Baptiste’s voice drew Will back. ‘Vous nous attendez dehors. En face de I’ouverture.” He paused. ’Il est dix heures moins cinq maintenant. Nous allons rentrer dans quarante, peut etre cinquante minutes.“
Nearly ten o’clock. He let his head hang as the man took hold beneath his arms. As they started to drag him up the slope towards the cave, he wondered if he’d still be alive at eleven.
“Turn round,” Marie-Cecile repeated.
A harsh, arrogant voice, Audric thought. He stroked his hand once more across Shelagh’s head, and then slowly he drew himself to his full height. His relief at finding her alive had been short-lived. She was in a very bad condition. Without medical help soon, Audric feared she would die.
“Leave the torch there,” Marie-Cecile ordered him. “Come down here where I can see you.”
Slowly, Audric turned round and stepped down from behind the altar.
She was holding an oil lamp in one hand, a pistol in the other. His first thought was how alike they were. The same green eyes, the black hair curling around the beautiful, austere face. With the gold headdress and necklace, the amulets circling her upper arms and her lean, tall body encased in the white robe, she looked like an Egyptian princess.
“You have come alone, Dame?”
“I hardly think it necessary to be accompanied everywhere I go, Monsieur, besides…”
He dropped his eyes to the gun. You do not think I will trouble you,“ he nodded. ”I am old, after all, oc?“ Then he added: ‘But also you do not want anyone else to hear.”
A suggestion of a smile crossed her lips. “Strength lies in secrecy.”
“The man who taught you that is dead, Dame.”
Pain sparked in her eyes. “You knew my grandfather?”
“I knew of him,” he replied.
“He taught me well. Never confide in anyone. Never trust anyone.”
“A lonely way to live, Dame.”
“I do not find it so.”
She had moved round, circling him like an animal stalking its prey, until she had her back to the altar and he was standing in the centre of the chamber, near a dip in the ground.
The grave, he thought. The grave where the bodies were found.
“Where is she?” Marie-Cecile demanded.
He did not answer. “You are much like your grandfather. In character, your features, your persistence. Also, like him, you are misguided.”
Anger flickered across her face. “My grandfather was a great man. He honoured the Grail. He devoted his life to the quest to find the Book of Words, the better to understand.”
“Understand, Dame? Or exploit?”
“You don’t know anything about him.”
“Ah, but I do,” he said softly. “People do not change so very much.” He hesitated. “And he was so close, was he not?” he continued, dropping his voice even further. “A few kilometres further to the west and it would have been him who found the cave. Not you.”
“It makes no difference now,” she said fiercely. “It belongs to us.”
“The Grail belongs to no one. It is not something that can be owned or manipulated or bargained with.”
Audric stopped. In the light of the oil lamp burning on the altar he looked straight into her eyes.
“It would not have saved him,” he said.
From across the chamber, he heard her draw her breath.
“The elixir heals and extends life. It would have kept him alive.”
“It would have done nothing to save him from the illness stripping the flesh from his bones, Dame, any more than it will give you what you desire.” He paused. The Grail will not come for you.“
She took a step towards him. You hope it will not, Baillard, but you’re not sure. For all your knowledge, all your research, you do not know what will happen.“
“You are mistaken.”
“This is your chance, Baillard. After all your years of writing, studying,; wondering. Like me, you have devoted your lifetime to this. You want to see this done as much as I do.”
“And if I refuse to cooperate?”
She gave a sharp laugh. “Come now. You hardly need to ask. My son will kill her, you know that. How he does so – and how long it takes – is up to you.”
Despite the precautions he’d taken, a shiver ran down his spine. Provided Alice stayed where she was, as she had promised, there was no need for alarm. She was safe. It would be over before she realised what was happening.