Page 85 of Never Leave Me
He grinned in return. “Methinks I am.”
She could only pray they would find a way to keep him alive.
Harrison crept behind the other men in the low and narrow tunnel. The dankness of the soil and roots filled his nostrils. The grit of dust coated him so that he could taste it on his lips and tongue.
“Take heed!” The urgent call came from someone nearby as the ground rumbled and a shower of dirt cascaded over their heads.
Harrison ducked and covered his head with his arms as the debris rained down.
The tunnel was a death trap.
The walls were supported by rafters, many of which were rotted and crumbling and aged with time. Those that hadn’t decayed had likely cracked in the recent earthquake. Every step they took, every bump of a head against a rafter, every clink of a sword against the wall could cause an avalanche that would either bury or trap them.
The clattering tapered to silence. Harrison rose tentatively to see Will, at the front of their group, start forward again carrying historch. Arthur followed close behind, directing Will. A half dozen of Will’s armed men trailed, and Harrison followed at the rear.
Harrison stepped over a pile of wreckage, then ducked underneath a loose beam. They’d already had to stop three times to dig away rubble that had blocked their path. The digging had set them back by hours. If they had any hope of infiltrating the priory before daylight, they couldn’t encounter any more obstacles.
Even with the danger at every turn, a thrill of excitement pulsed through him. He’d recognized the tunnel almost from the moment they’d started through it at Canterbury Cathedral. It was the same one he’d used last year to journey into the crypt to retrieve the ampulla Marian had left there. Of course, the tunnel had been enlarged and strengthened with cement walls and ceilings during World War II. And of course, it was shorter, only extending to St. Thomas’s Catholic Church since St. Sepulchre had been torn down ages ago.
As the squire ahead came to a standstill, Harrison almost bumped into him. With his body hunched, Harrison tried to see past the others to discover the holdup. But he had to wait, as he had before, for word to filter back.
“We’ve arrived at the priory, my lord,” the man in front of him whispered.
After several more long moments, the line of men began to move again until Harrison reached a thickly corded rope. The squire was already shimmying up one hand over the other, using the knot holds for his feet. Once he neared the top, Harrison started up. He didn’t want to admit to anyone he’d never climbed a rope before. If Arthur could manage—even with a little assistance from those ahead and behind—surely he could too.
The rope was secured tightly at the top, probably by Will’s sister. Though Harrison was slower, he finally reached the hatch, and gloved hands reached out to drag him through.
Once standing, Harrison took stock of his surroundings illuminated by Will’s torch.
“We’re in a cellarium, Harrison.” Arthur’s whisper came from beside him. “Isn’t this absolutely astounding?”
“Quite.” Barrels that smelled of ale and salted fish stood along one stone wall. Crocks were neatly arranged on a shelf. Baskets of dried, withered apples and seeded onions emanated a sweet but pungent odor.
“Who would have guessed the two of us together like this.” Arthur’s eyes gleamed with the same thrill Harrison was experiencing.
“It’s sheer madness, Arthur, old chap. That’s what it is.”
Through the crowded room, Harrison caught sight of Will speaking in hushed tones with a nun, no doubt his sister. She wore a white habit and black scapular along with a white wimple that covered most of her face and neck. Even with so little of her showing, Harrison could see the family resemblance between brother and sister. Sister Christina was a brave woman to risk so much to help her brother in his quest to regain control over the wellspring.
After a moment, Will turned to them, his expression grim. “We shall need to eliminate two guards at each entrance and two standing guard at the wellspring.”
Harrison fingered the hilt of the sword his manservant had given him. He’d mostly adjusted to wearing the chain mail and carrying the heavy sword.
Buteliminate? His stomach turned queasy at the prospect of eliminating anyone. Six to their seven—excluding Arthur, who was wearing chain mail but hadn’t brought a weapon. Harrison wasn’t sure if he should include himself either. He’d learned some fencing in uni and had met other men who took to wheelchair fencing. But it hadn’t held his interest for long.
Nevertheless, he’d told himself during all the planning thathe was doing this for Ellen. They had to take back the well and get access to the holy water. For her. So she could return safely to the present.
“Let’s go.” Will motioned for them to follow after Sister Christina. “Stealth shall be our greatest asset this night.”
They ascended up a short flight of steps into a long passageway. Apparently the nuns had already returned to the dormitory after reciting Matins, and now the hallways were deserted, at least until they awoke for Lauds.
Even though the men crept silently through the cloister, there was no way to muffle their footsteps or the rattle of their weapons against their chain mail. For a place where silence was the rule, any noise was sure to be heard. And any of the nuns loyal to Ickham had probably already sent a message regarding their arrival.
When a rush of cool air slithered around him, Harrison realized a door had been opened. His mind conjured the images he’d committed to memory after studying the map Will had drawn of St. Sepulchre. They would leave from a side door that led into the large, enclosed yard of the priory.
“Godspeed,” Will whispered as the men began to break into their prearranged groups. Will planned to take two squires and lead the charge to overcome the guards at the wellspring. He’d instructed Arthur to stay close behind him.
Harrison had agreed to go with Will’s manservant, Thad, and restrain the guards at the back gate. Two others would do the same for the guards in front. Harrison was well aware of all the particulars for accomplishing their mission, but he followed the young man along the building with trepidation nonetheless. They skirted the cloister wall until they entered the forested area at the back of the priory, a section that had once likely contained cultivated fruit trees but was now growing wild.
