Chapter 13 In which the sea quietens #2
She lit her candle again from Robert’s, and with some trepidation searched for the passageway that Marigold had mentioned. There was an arch, set at right angles to the cell, tucked in the corner, and Judith gestured for Robert to follow.
One by one, they breached the arch. It led into a long, narrow passageway.
The very narrowness of it hinted that it would not take them to another storage place under the castle, for it would be difficult to carry anything through, let alone two men carrying wide chests or barrels.
The path curved round slowly, and Judith saw another low door, the one that had balked Marigold.
The lintel bore a heavy weight of stone, at the height of Judith’s shoulders. Old then, perhaps built by the monks. It was wooden and barred with iron.
Fearing it was locked, Judith bent and turned the handle with all her might. It swung open with a groaning creak. She ducked under the lintel, Robert at her heels, his stick lightly tapping behind her.
Fortunately, the ceiling rose again, so they could walk straight.
But the roof was oddly curved, the passageway shaped like an oval, much like the painting had been.
It was built of a different type of stone, too, lighter than the heavy grey rock of the cellars.
Certainly, it must have been built by earlier inhabitants of the castle, centuries ago.
Judith wondered if it had been a private passageway for the monks.
The stone walls were close, the floor uneven.
Her heart beat with excitement. Of course this castle had a secret underground passageway.
How could she have doubted it? This was the secret that the Crimson Lady guarded.
Gradually, the path turned north, and she realised suddenly that the pounding of the waves had quietened. The truth dawned on her. They were now under the sea itself, past the reaches of the island: they could no longer hear the ceaseless thunder of breaking waves.
She cast a look back at Robert to see that his eyes were wide in the lamplight.
“Are we heading towards the shore?” he whispered.
“I suspect so.” It was hard to maintain a sense of direction underground, but it felt as if the passage was curving in a similar direction as the causeway. Could it even be under the causeway? Could this explain how Sgt Finlay had escaped the island after the tide came in?
Her excitement was abruptly interrupted, for the pale limestone suddenly flattened into a dead end.
She stared at in consternation, then saw a yawning dark mouth before her feet.
Holding her candle above it, she could see the space of another tunnel, lower down, with shallow steps cut into the plunging hole.
Robert peered over her shoulder. “Should we press on?”
“How will you manage, with your leg?”
He scowled. “You can’t go without me. The duke would have my hide.”
She was pleased at this sign of protectiveness, and his confidence that Dacian would recover his opinions. “Surely no one else is down there.”
At the thought, they both stilled to listen. And that was when they heard the whistling.
It was an eerie sound, echoing up through the hole, bouncing on stone. The tune was jaunty, faint, and distant. But possibly drawing closer; it was hard to tell. This must be their conspirator!
And possibly a murderer.
“Quick!” hissed Judith. “Blow out the candles.” She put her own out in a gust of breath. Light would be seen long before anything else. Her pulse accelerated.
Robert’s face stared at her, aghast. “Really?”
“We can walk back in the dark, feeling the walls. We’ll wait by the kegs, like we planned. Can you manage it?”
“I suppose.” He grimaced. “You go first.”
He let her step past him. Then darkness descended, utter and absolute.
Grimly, she retraced her steps, walking with careful haste.
The side of the tunnel was rough under her gloves, and the scent of dry, old earth filled her nostrils.
In the blackness, the sound of Robert’s breathing and the scraping of his stick seemed overloud.
Judith felt guilty that this reckless retreat would not be good for his injury.
But it would have been foolish to come alone, she reasoned.
She only hoped they wouldn’t both be trapped and killed together by a desperate smuggler.
The whistling was bizarrely out of place in the nightmarish dark, but it did not evoke a sense of desperation. Whoever it was did not seem to have anything on their conscience. Yet a remorseless wrongdoer would be even more dangerous.
Beyond Robert’s erratic progress, the jaunty sound grew closer. Judith dared not hurry too much, fearing they might trip on the uneven floor. She heard what might have been a scramble and imagined their faceless pursuer crawling up into the very tunnel that they were now traversing.
Finally, she felt the wall taper and barely stopped herself from crashing into the low door.
Fumbling, she opened it, whispering to Robert to be careful of the lintel.
Ducking through and away, she waited until she heard him shut it quietly again, then inched forward.
Soon she was under the next arch into the secret cell, and creeping along the wall to the final door.
It was with relief she breathed in the sweet smell of fermenting ratafia. She pushed the hidden door open and slipped out into the shadow of the kegs. Close behind her, Robert carefully shut it behind them.
At least they had two doors between the whistler now. The flat granite was hard beneath her feet, and the sound of the waves had returned, beating against the cliffs of the island and reverberating through the foundations of the castle.
“Quick,” she whispered. “I’ll sit by the kegs, as before.”
Blindly, she bumped into the reassuring solidity of wood. Fingers clutching at the keg, she edged along to the end, then collapsed into the nook, drawing her legs up.
It seemed a very long wait for the unseen whistler, though they had sounded so close behind. Judith sat in the cold dark, listening with all her might. The cheerful tune grew nearer, muffled. Then the walker came through the low door, and the whistling ceased.
She could hear footsteps now, slow and cautious. They drew closer, entering the secret cell, and then the last passageway.
The hidden door opened.
Light leaked over the kegs, glimmering softly.
Judith widened her eyes at Robert. He was pressed up against the wall on the other side of the door, but as she watched, he melted into it, becoming stone. At the same moment, she felt the warmth of Illusion spring up around her.
A careful tread came into the room. Lantern light glowed, and behind it, a figure loomed in the archway.