Page 30 of Lord of Fortune
“I know where he keeps a key.” He was suddenly impatient to be done with dinner.
She finished swallowing and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “Would it be terribly rude if I asked if we could go now?”
His admiration for her grew. “Not at all. In fact, I was hoping you would say that.” He stood from the table and held her chair while she got to her feet.
As they were about to depart, the footman entered, his brow arched in silent question.
“We weren’t terribly hungry,” Penn said. “But it was delicious, thank you.”
He escorted her from the room and started quickly toward the stairs. She kept up, and when they reached the first step said, “You are far less formal when you’re in a hurry.”
He winced, realizing he hadn’t offered her his arm. “I spend a great deal of time away from polite society. It’s not a fair excuse, just an explanation. My apologies.” He presented his arm.
She laughed softly, the sound tickling the hairs along the back of his neck. “It’s not necessary. I was merely making an observation. Please, let us continue.” She started up the stairs without taking his arm. He couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or appreciative.
At the top, she looked at him. “Now where?”
“This way.” He led her to the left along the gallery to a branch of corridors. They continued along until he turned to the right. At last, he held open the door to a small office. Light from a sconce in the hallway filtered into the room, but Penn would need to light a candle or a lantern. “Septon has a larger office downstairs, but he uses this one for more private discussions and research.” He went to the desk and found a lantern, which he lit with alacrity. The room illuminated, and he saw Amelia standing just inside, her gaze sweeping the chamber with interest.
“This is his secret library?” she asked.
“No, I need the key for that.” He went to the desk and reached beneath it for the hidden button. Finding the small depression, he pressed, and a slender compartment opened from the underside. Inside the velvet-lined drawer lay a key. Grasping it between his fingers, he withdrew the brass implement and moved out from behind the desk.
“Where is it?” She turned back toward the door.
“This way.” He strode to a large painting painted in the last century featuring a man surrounded by his hounds. He found the keyhole—hidden in one of the dog’s eyes—and slid the key inside. Feeling the mechanism click, he withdrew the key, then gently pushed on the frame.
“It’shere?” Amelia had come up behind him. “How clever. Or suspicious.”
Penn laughed. “I’m sure it’s a bit of both. Septon guards his secrets quite closely.” And those of the Order. Penn still had to work out how to take the dagger back from them. Though it was fake, he’d promised Amelia he’d get it back for her, and he meant to do so.
The secret library was little more than a closet. There was no window, and it was dark save for the light from the office behind them. “We need the lantern.” Penn quickly returned to the desk and fetched the light. Bringing it back into the library, he set it on a locked trunk that also served as a table.
She gestured to the trunk. “What’s in there?”
“I don’t know, actually. Septon invited me into this library for the first time just after I started at Oxford. A few years later, he showed me where the key was kept and invited me to use it for research, while also swearing me to secrecy.” He hadn’t even told his sister, though she’d learned of it herself. Septon hadn’t been so generous with his knowledge with her, nor had he invited her to make use of it. They’d discussed this when he’d seen her last, and Penn regretted that he’d kept it from her. He’d told Septon to stop treating her as if she wasn’t as smart or committed to antiquities as they were. Since she’d found the lost sword called Dyrnwyn, Septon had finally—and thankfully with enthusiasm—agreed. He drew his attention back to the present. “He’s never showed me the contents of the trunk.”
She peered at him. “Doesn’t that make you especially curious?”
“Of course, but I’ve been unsuccessful in trying to open it.”
“You’ve tried?” She shook her head. “Of course you have.” She looked around the small space. “What are we looking for?”
“Anything to do with the Thirteen Treasures.” He went to one of the shelves and pulled down a book from the midsixteenth century that was in remarkably good condition. “This was copied from the Red Book of Hergest. It’s not the entire contents, but much of it. I recall that it contains Arthurian romances.”
She stood close to him—there was no other choice in the tight space. “They’re all love stories? I didn’t realize that.”
“Oh no, that definition is more recent. The term romance is used in this way to specifically describe a story that recounts the adventures of a knight—it comes from France in the twelfth century, I believe.” He suddenly recalled that Septon kept a list of Arthurian romances and where they originated. He turned and went to a different shelf, his gaze traveling over the spines until he found what he sought. It was a slender volume with black binding, if he remembered correctly.
Seeing one that matched that description, he pulled it down and flipped it open. But it wasn’t the right book. Stashing it back on the shelf, he continued his search.
“What are you looking for now?”
“A list of Arthurian romances.” Another thin black book drew his attention. He pulled that down and, when he peeked inside, smiled. “This is it.” He went back to the trunk and, seeing the other text, handed the black book to Amelia. “Hold this.” After he returned the sixteenth-century book to the shelf, he took the list and opened it atop the trunk.
She moved very close to him so that their sides touched. “I can’t understand some of this.”
“It’s Welsh, some of it quite old. Septon is a stickler for using the original name of a text, even if it’s been translated into English, but see, he also lists the other names it might be known by.” Penn pointed to one particular entry, his fingertip barely touching the parchment, which had the Old Welsh name followed by medieval Welsh, French, and English. “And this is the text where it originated.” Penn moved his finger across the page to the name of the book.
