Oracles of Delphi Keep (13 page)

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Authors: Victoria Laurie

BOOK: Oracles of Delphi Keep
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Ian, embarrassed right down to his toes, attempted to smile at the men now openly gaping at him. “How do you do?” he mumbled as others from the parade of motorcars joined their group to hear the tale and offered to shake his hand.

“We’ll need to set off straightaway,” said the earl. “Master Wigby has agreed to lead us to the underground cavern where he first discovered the hellhound. We’ll need a hunting party both aboveground and below. One group can flush out the beast and the other group can finish it off if necessary And I must warn all of you, we got two rounds into the creature last evening and it barely flinched. When you shoot, don’t think once will be enough. Keep firing until you’re sure it’s taken its last breath.”

“Yes, of course,” said Ciaran. “The boys and I would like to volunteer to be in the party going down into the cavern.” Ian was surprised that the earl’s friend was so quick to volunteer. He didn’t really strike Ian as the sporting type.

But the earl nodded and gave Ciaran a pat on the back. Ian heard someone cough behind them and turned to see Binsford holding a thermos and a bit of toast wrapped in wax paper. “Your breakfast, my lord,” he said with a small bow as other servants passed out thermoses and toast to the hunting party. Ian politely declined the toast and tea, feeling too anxious for breakfast.

The earl took his food and the thermos from his butler. “Very good, Binsford, thank you. Shall we be on our way, then?” he said, and headed off down the drive and around the side of the castle to a pathway that Ian sensed might lead directly to the cliffs.

Ciaran and his sons marched quickly after the earl,
leaving Ian, the new schoolmasters, and the rest of the small crowd to hurry along and attempt to keep up with the brisk pace the earl set.

As they rounded the high wall of the castle, Ian realized that he was the only member of the hunting party not equipped with a rifle. He looked about and saw that Thatcher was carrying a very large gun as he walked beside his brother. Ian decided that the best place to be was near someone carrying a weapon like that, so he nonchalantly inserted himself between the two brothers.

Perry gave him a warm smile when he noticed Ian squirming his way between them and he kindly offered him a bit of toast. Ian’s stomach was still in no mood to accept food, so he politely shook his head while his insides gave another flop from nerves.

“Master Wigby,” said Perry with a frown. “You really should eat something. After all, we could be out here a long while.”

Ian shrugged. He knew that his stomach would refuse the food. “Thank you, sir, but I’m not hungry.”

“Very well,” said Perry, biting into the toast.

They arrived at the cliffs a short time later, and as they neared the entrance to the cavern, the terrain became rockier and more difficult to navigate. The wind had picked up and the sun from the morning had given way to dark gray clouds, which threatened more rain. Near the edge of the cliffs, Ian sped up a little and tugged on the earl’s coat. “My lord,” he said, feeling a small spurt of adrenaline, “the hole where we found the first cavern is over in that direction.” And he pointed to his right.

“Lead the way, Master Wigby,” directed the earl.

Ian turned right, scanning the ground for signs of the boulder he’d stood on the day before. It took him a little while, but he finally spotted it. “Over here!” he said, picking up his pace and hurrying to the landmark.

“Wait for us!” puffed Ciaran, lagging far behind the rest of the group.

Ian’s eyes darted back and forth across the ground as he walked. He knew that the opening to the tunnel was close, but he and Theo had left so quickly that he was having trouble remembering its exact location. Finally, something out of place to his right caught his eye and he spotted the mammoth hole in the ground that had fresh dig marks and exposed dirt from torn-out vegetation. “Here!” cried Ian, running to the opening. “It’s here!” he said excitedly, but immediately realized he was standing very close to the edge of a hole where the beast could right now be lurking, waiting for him to come near enough to snatch him from the ground. Ian quickly took two steps back and waited for the men to approach.

The earl, Thatcher, and Perry were first to reach him, their guns loaded and ready as Ian pointed eagerly at the ground. “My heavens!” said the earl as he approached. “Look at the size of those claw marks!”

Perry bent down and poked a stick at the exposed chalk, with its series of deep gouges. “The beast’s paws are enormous,” he said, his voice filled with awe, as he ran his finger along the nail marks in the soft lime. Ian shivered as he watched Perry trail the grooves. He knew all too well how large and deadly those paws with their giant nails were.

When the rest of the group had joined them, the earl gave his instructions. “Right, then,” he began, his face grimly set as he eyed the tunnel entrance warily. “I’ll take the boy, Thatcher, Perry, Ciaran, and his sons into the cavern. The rest of you lot spread out along this side of the cliffs and be on the alert. If this was originally too small for the beast to get out, there has to be a larger way in and it’s likely not far away.”

All the men in the hunting party nodded and Ian caught a shared look between Thatcher and Perry. He hadn’t expected that the earl would want him down in the tunnel, and he tried not to gulp when his patriarch gave him a firm pat on the back. “Are you ready, Master Wigby?”

“Yes, my lord,” Ian said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was trying to put on a brave front for the earl, but in the face of that giant gap in the earth and those claw marks, it was hard not to think about the vicious beast so close at hand.

“I’ll go first,” said Thatcher, readying himself at the mouth of the hole. “Perry, after I drop down, stick your gun through the opening, and if anything other than me moves, shoot it.”

Perry nodded and pulled his rifle up to his shoulder. “Ready when you are,” he said.

Thatcher swung his rifle round to his back and clicked on a torch Binsford had given him, then he braced himself and crouched low beside the hole. Inhaling deeply, he glanced at Ian with a grave expression before dropping into the hole. Perry immediately edged to the lip, aiming his rifle into the dark below. No one else moved or said a word while they waited to hear from Thatcher.

Ian held his breath and watched the light from Thatcher’s torch dance and bob while the schoolmaster swung the beam to and fro. “It’s clear!” he finally shouted. “No signs of the beast. The rest of you can come down.”

Perry pulled his rifle out of the opening and, like his brother, swung it round to his back before dropping in. The earl motioned for Ian to go next. “Do you need help down?” the earl asked him, indicating Ian’s bound shoulder and arm.

“I think I can manage, thank you, my lord,” said Ian as he edged his way over to the lip and gauged the jump. He took a small leap and landed easily on the floor of the cavern, then moved quickly to the side and out of the way for the others to come through. The earl, Ciaran, Alfred, and Henry followed the others, although Ciaran needed considerable help getting through the hole.

The cavern was well lit now with all the torches being switched on and Ian noticed the men staring wide-eyed at the spacious opening to the tunnel. “I’ve never been in this particular vein,” said the earl, and Ian turned to look at him, surprised by the admission.

“What’s that, my lord? What do you mean by ‘this particular vein’?” asked Perry.

The earl’s eyes found Ian’s and they shared a knowing smile. “Castle Dover was built atop a maze of tunnels all leading out to caves along the cliff’s face as an escape for the inhabitants should the castle ever be taken by enemies,” the earl explained. “As a child I explored just about all of these tunnels, but I don’t ever remember having been in here.” Ian felt an even greater welling of admiration for the earl and their shared youthful interests.

“Pardon me,” interrupted Thatcher. “But I believe we should all have a look at this.”

Ian turned to where Thatcher was, and noticed that he was standing in front of the big black lettering that Ian and Theo had seen the day before.

“What have you got there?” asked Ciaran, edging closer to the schoolmaster.

“This is written in Greek,” answered Thatcher as his hand traced the outline of the writing. “I’m not an expert, but I believe I can sound it out.” Thatcher’s voice halted abruptly while his beam went back to the beginning of the lettering, then scanned slowly along the wall and stopped. He turned and stared at Ian.

“What?” Ian asked, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Did
you
write this?” Thatcher demanded, his tone sharp.

“No, sir!” Ian said quickly, astonished that his new schoolmaster could possibly think that. “That was there when I first came into the cavern.”

“My good man,” said the earl to Thatcher, “please tell us what it says.”

Thatcher turned to his employer, his lips pressed tightly together as if he were weighing something. Finally, he said, “It literally translates, ‘Young boy, Wigby, come this way’”

Ian and several others in the cavern gasped. He was so stunned that he simply stared dumbly at Thatcher for a long moment.

The silence that followed was broken by the earl as he gave a snort of laughter. A moment later, Alfred, Henry, and
Ciaran followed with chuckles, and Ian grinned in relief as he felt the tension leave his shoulders. His schoolmaster was obviously joking.

“Now, come on, Master Goodwyn, what does it
really
say?” Ciaran asked after he’d had a good laugh.

“I’m not joking,” Thatcher said, his words clipped and his face never breaking out of its serious expression. “It truly says, ‘Young boy, Wigby, come this way’”

The earl cocked his head, as if he were waiting for Thatcher to give up the joke, but the younger man’s expression held. Slowly, the earl turned away from him and looked directly at Ian. “Master Wigby,” he said sternly, “tell us the truth, lad. You wrote this on the wall, didn’t you?”

Ian’s heart was racing wildly. He couldn’t take his eyes off the big black lettering. Something about it seemed oddly familiar, but he was sure he’d never seen such a message before, and he knew nothing of the Greek language. “My lord,” he said in his most sincerely honest tone while he held up his good hand. “I swear to you on my honor, I had nothing to do with that. It was already here when I came into the cavern yesterday for the first time. And for that matter,” he added, willing the earl to believe him, “I don’t have the foggiest notion about how to read or write in Greek.”

No one spoke for several long seconds and it seemed to Ian that every person in the cavern was taking a measure of him and the truth of his words. He especially hated the feeling that the earl might believe he would do such a thing. “I
swear
to you, my lord!” he insisted, hoping it was enough to convince the man he so admired.

Finally, the earl gave one curt nod and said, “All right then, Ian. I believe you.”

Ian let go of the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you, my lord,” he said.

The earl looked round at the others as if to let them know that they were not to hold Ian in judgment, and said, “Let’s move forward, everyone, and look for the beast. Maybe we’ll learn more about who it was that wanted Ian, in particular, to travel deeper into these tunnels.”

Ian walked over to the tunnel leading out of the cavern, anxious to get the attention off him and back onto hunting the beast. He paused and glanced back at the earl, unsure if his patriarch wanted him to go first.

The earl waved his hand and said, “Yes, Ian, you lead us forward. Perry, stay right behind him and have that rifle ready.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Perry, pulling his hunting rifle off his back and readying it to follow Ian.

Ian gave one more look behind him and noticed anxiously that Thatcher was scrawling the message from the wall down in a small notebook he’d brought with him. Ian frowned, because he thought he might not have heard the last about his role in the writing on the wall. Still, as he turned toward the dark tunnel in front of him, he reasoned that Thatcher could at least double-check his translation and might even discover he’d gotten it wrong.

He almost felt better until he remembered with a quick twang of apprehension that the sides of the second cavern held far more writing. He wondered if Thatcher’s translations
there would point an additional finger of suspicion at him. He could only hope that his name wasn’t among the scribbling on that wall, and he wondered what he might say in his defense if it was.

He waited until Thatcher had finished his copying, and with a hand motion from Perry, he entered the narrow tunnel. Over his shoulder Perry said, “Here, Ian, you’ll need this to see.”

Ian glanced back and saw that Perry was handing him a torch. “Thank you, sir,” he said, feeling relieved that he wouldn’t have to venture forward without any light. He clicked the switch on the heavy torch and bounced the beam all around in front of him. Nothing moved within the beam, so he took some slow, careful steps forward.

Ian could feel the schoolmaster nearly on top of him, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the long barrel of the rifle extending above his shoulder. Still, he was very nervous about going first, as he was terrified of the beast, especially since the hellhound seemed barely to flinch at being shot twice before.

The entire group walked stealthily without speaking, careful not to make much noise until they reached the next cavern, where Ian braced himself again as his torch lit upon the walls covered in large black Grecian letters. “My word!” said the earl as he entered the cavern and moved his own torch along the sides of the space. “Look at this place!”

Thatcher quickly took out his notebook again to write down the lettering. “Do you know what it says?” asked the earl as he watched Thatcher scribble.

Thatcher shook his head. “Some of the letters and
phrases I think I can make out, but I’d rather have this translated by my professor friend at Cambridge.”

“Ian,” said Perry, “is this the room where you discovered the box?”

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