I allowed one of the lads to ascend before me and stayed behind to deal with our reluctant companion. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘I cannot abide small enclosed spaces,’ he informed me rather bitterly.
‘I feel sure you could make an exception to save your life.’ I attempted to gloss over the drama.
‘No, you do not understand,’ Taylor said, frustrated. ‘I panic!’
Mohammed gave an exasperated sigh and Taylor exploded.
‘I do not like it any more than you! Do you think I enjoyed being locked in a tiny, cramped space as a child? Wondering through all the long starving hours whether my father was going to leave me to rot!’
‘Taylor!’ I restrained him from lashing out at Mohammed with his good arm. ‘I will get you out of here. I am not leaving you behind.’
My assurance broke the back of his fear and his anger ebbed. But then the fear returned. ‘There must be another way back to the surface.’
‘The Romans are filling it with dirt as we speak. This is the only way out now.’ Mohammed moved to the rope. ‘I will wait for you above, take your time.’
Our guide seemed a little more kindly disposed towards Taylor following his outburst; adoring his sons as he did, I guessed Mohammed found it tragic that any man would abuse the privilege of fatherhood.
We watched our guide shin up the rope to join his sons and Miss Koriche and I looked to Taylor who was crumbling to pieces before my eyes. I had never once, in all the time we had studied together, suspected that he had been so deeply scarred as a child.
‘This is your opportunity to seize back your own power,’ I told him.
‘I cannot,’ he insisted, barely resisting the urge to drop to the ground and curl up in a ball. If this was what the thought of the passage did to him, I hated to think how he would handle the actual event.
‘No, Taylor, in this case you will not, as there is a huge difference.’ I walked over and took hold of the rope. ‘Unlike when you were a child, this time you have a choice and you can choose not to be a victim any more.’
Taylor was shaking his head and yet I could almost see his will battling to escape that dark place buried deep inside him.
‘Surely it is not your choice to stay and rot?’ I said. There was no point trying to avoid the issue now; Taylor had little choice but to face his fears or perish.
‘No! I want to be outside. I need air!’ He ripped open the collar of his shirt, seemingly on the verge of hyperventilating.
‘Taylor, listen to me. Your physical, mental and emotional freedom lie this way,’ I persuaded. ‘Take one last journey into the darkness and you will never have to revisit it again.’
He had to think about it a moment, but he finally nodded to concede he understood my reasoning. ‘What if I have a panic fit in one of the tunnels?’
‘Well, having a fit in a tunnel is preferable to rotting in a tomb,’ I said. ‘Would you not agree?’
He was amused by this and I saw a glimmer of the Taylor I knew. ‘When you put it that way.’
He shrugged off his horror outwardly, but required a few deep breaths to actually approach the rope.
‘I shall be with you all the way,’ I reassured him as I tied the rope around his waist.
‘I have never had company in the darkness before.’ He sounded rather touched by the concept.
‘Let us hope it makes all the difference.’ I motioned to Mohammed to hoist him up.
In the tunnel above, the ceiling was tall enough to kneel upright comfortably. At this point I tied a rope around my waist and had Taylor attach the other end securely around his waist. ‘If worst comes to worst and you panic, I shall drag you out of here,’ I said. The comment was made partly in jest, but Taylor seemed to appreciate my intent. ‘Are you ready?’
He appeared as if he might be sick at any moment, but he nodded reluctantly.
We set off, half-walking in a crouched position and half-crawling. We kept only one torch alight and that was in the hand of Mohammed’s son who was at the head of our convoy. Taylor and I had nominated to go last, as he was in disfavour, so we were moving in near total darkness. I had not heard anything from my attachment for some time, but I knew he was still moving along behind me as I could hear him breathing and the rope between us remained slack.
As the roof of the tunnel lowered and we were forced onto all fours, I attempted to get Taylor’s mind at least into the wide-open spaces.
‘You know what I would like to be doing right now, Taylor?’
‘Do tell, Devere.’ Taylor was breathing deeply to control his panic, but was managing to keep it in check.
‘A nice game of cricket.’
‘A splendid thought.’ He was grateful for the distraction. ‘Drinks at the club afterwards?’
‘Absolutely. Malory’s shout.’ I considered that our fee for this little stint in Persia had just gone up.
Taylor laughed, but it quickly degenerated into nervousness and then panic. ‘How much further?’
I relayed the question to Mohammed ahead of me.
‘Five minutes,’ he called back. ‘Not far.’
‘Does the ceiling get much lower?’ I pre-empted Taylor’s next query, for I was starting to feel somewhat claustrophobic myself.
‘We will have to crawl on our bellies for a small way and then we will be back to standing.’
The rope around my waist jolted me to a halt. ‘Taylor?’
‘I cannot breathe,’ he said faintly. ‘I feel dizzy!’
‘No! Passing out is just another way of avoiding your fear. You have to relax your breathing, you hear me?’ I heard him weeping. ‘Answer me, Taylor! There is no point having a voice in the darkness if you refuse to communicate with it.’
I felt him squirming behind me, battling his demons.
‘Damn you, Devere! All right!’
‘Good man.’ I resumed crawling. ‘We shall get this over with as quickly as possible.’
I felt a great deal of empathy with Taylor, for the tight squeeze and the lack of air seemed to make this stretch of passage last an age. The torch had been extinguished as it was no longer safe to carry, thus a heavy darkness enveloped us.
Taylor finally cracked. ‘Get me out!’ he yelled.
As his body gave a violent convulsion, he disturbed the old wooden support planks above and alongside us and we were all coated in a shower of dust, which got in our mouths, noses, throats and eyes. This only compounded Taylor’s panic and he continued to kick violently. The shower of dirt increased and I wrapped my arms around my head to endure my imminent burial. Next thing I knew, I was being dragged into the open. As Taylor landed with a thud behind me, I perceived an image of a young boy kicking open the lid of the trunk in which he’d been encased so long; the feeling of exhilaration was allconsuming.
Much coughing, spluttering and spitting ensued, but as soon as I had regained my senses I moved to congratulate Taylor, who was still shaking like a leaf. ‘You did it, old boy, you are free!’
Taylor looked around in a daze as the realisation dawned. ‘We got out.’
The cave in which we had landed was a huge space by comparison with the tunnel, and Taylor breathed easy once more. Tears streamed silently down his face as he emerged from his dark past and came back to the present. ‘I feel amazing,’ he said. He sounded surprised, although I could tell he was embarrassed to have fallen apart in front of so many people. ‘I apologise for creating a scene and for any grief I have caused, for I am greatly indebted to you all.’
Miss Koriche crouched beside Taylor and handed him a scarf to wipe his face. ‘At least I understand your need to play power games now, and always to look out for number one,’ she said.
‘I believe this is the first time that I have understood it,’ he confessed.
There was such sincerity and hurt in his voice that Miss Koriche was compelled to embrace the man who only an hour before she had threatened to kill. Taylor buried his head in her shoulder and cried until his
heart was content.
Mohammed walked with me to the cave’s mouth. It opened onto the desert, which was lit brightly beneath a waxing moon. I could see the silhouettes of a herd of camels that awaited close by, tended by two more of Mohammed’s male offspring.
‘If we travel overnight, we should be able to get you to the river before the Romans finish filling in their hole,’ our saviour explained.
‘If Miss Koriche feels herself capable of departing at once, then I shall be happy to do so.’ I thanked Mohammed again for his aid. ‘Is there something I can do for you in return…some payment or gift.’ That was the term I was looking for.
The man shook his head. ‘Please, your son has already been too generous,’ he assured. ‘This deed is my remuneration to him.’
I was surprised to hear that one could be too generous here in Persia. But then I realised that if I made Mohammed a gift, he would feel obliged to recompense me. In the circumstances, a simple ‘thank you’ was far less complicated.
FROM THE JOURNAL OF TAMAR DEVERE
Lord Devere’s notes ended here, whereupon I shoved them securely back into the inner spine of the journal, and moved straight to Lady Ashlee’s Persian tale.
REVELATION 10
LIGHT
FROM THE JOURNAL OF LADY ASHLEE GRANVILLE-DEVERE
We emerged from the secret passage leading out of the Shah’s court into a tiny room within a squalid residence in Baghdad. Awaiting us was a guide, Zalman, who claimed that he had been instructed to lead us to safety—by my son presumably. It was impossible to find out as Zalman was a man of few words. Eager to escape the city, we placed our trust in this tall stranger and now found ourselves walking into a vast desert without any sign of transportation.
Despite our lack of knowledge about our guide, Albray—still inhabiting the body of Raineath—seemed well disposed towards him, as was I, for his subtle body was the most brillant I’d ever seen. Cingar, however, was more wary, feeling that there was something not quite right about our new travelling companion.
It was only as we crossed the flat desert wasteland, our shadows stretching long beside us on the parched earth, that Cingar and I finally realised what was amiss with Zalman—the man had no shadow. I gasped aloud, and turned to Albray for an explanation.
‘Every light casts a shadow when it encounters physical matter, but once a physical body generates its own light, then it no longer casts a shadow upon its surroundings,’ the knight told us.
It was strange to hear these wise words coming from Raineath’s mouth, but Albray knew that as soon as he departed the young woman’s form, she would black out and become a burden to our escape. At least if he maintained wilful control of Raineath, he could carry her to safety.
‘Are you suggesting that our friend is some sort of spiritual master?’ Cingar asked, stunned. This had obviously been the furthest conclusion from his mind.
‘There is only one kind of spiritual master,’ Albray clarified.
‘One of your Melchi?’ I guessed, for Albray had once belonged to the underground order of warrior priests.
‘Perhaps one of the very high initiates.’
My knight sounded as if he were guessing. ‘You are unsure?’ I asked. I found this curious, as Albray had been something of a legend in the brotherhood himself.
‘A masterful warrior is something quite different from a spiritual warrior, I assure you,’ he told me. ‘If I were one of the latter, I would certainly not be in my current state of limbo.’
Cingar was frowning, having lost track of the conversation, especially as, to his eyes, it was Raineath volunteering this information. ‘I have seen Melchi warriors, and they have shadows just like the rest of us,’ he said.
I found his view amusing and it prompted me to observe my own shadow. I was rather surprised to note that it was not so prominent as the shadows of the two people in my company. I might have dismissed it as a trick of the light, but we were all standing under the same huge light source, so why should my shadow appear different? Was it possible that one’s shadow denoted the extent to which the atomic structure of one’s body was absorbing and transmitting cosmic light?
I changed the subject to one that would interest Cingar. ‘So where do you think our friend might be leading us?’
‘Nowhere you will find on any map,’ was Albray’s guess.
Just as the last rays of daylight were leaving the sky and a chill swept over the desert, I spotted a large dwelling on the horizon.
‘Praise the universe,’ I muttered, when it became clear that Zalman was leading us toward it. Rest and water were imminent.
By the time we arrived at the large, lush homestead, it was lit by a waxing moon.
‘Do you know the residents?’ I asked Zalman.
He smiled at me broadly.
‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Your blissful rest this night is assured.’
I was very grateful to hear it.
The entranceway to the two-storey house was lit by flaming torches, which were very welcoming in the cool darkness.
‘The grounds are so lush and beautiful.’ Cingar was greatly impressed by the oasis. ‘There must be an underground water source.’
I knew I must look a terrible fright after our long journey and felt almost ashamed to present myself at the front door of so grand a dwelling.
A stunningly beautiful Eastern woman opened the door. What struck me immediately about her was that she wore no burka to cover herself from the sight of our male company. ‘Welcome,’ she greeted us warmly and opened the door wide. ‘We have been expecting you. I am Denera, mistress of this house.’
‘I am—’ I began.
Denera held up a hand politely, to save me the trouble. ‘No need for introductions, we know who you are. If my Lady Suffolk and Miss Saray would like to follow me, Zalman will show Mr Choron to the men’s quarters, where he can freshen himself.’
Interesting, I thought, that Denera should know Raineath’s second name, when I did not know it myself.
Although Cingar was clearly concerned about being separated from us, he did not argue with the request as it had been delivered by one so beautiful. Indeed, the gypsy had trouble dragging his gaze from Denera as he was led away by Zalman.
‘Please, this way.’ Denera escorted Raineath and I in the opposite direction.
I could not have imagined a more congenial chamber. The room was as grand as that the Shah had supplied, but not so huge and impersonal. There were two beds, a large sunken bath filled with warm scented water, and a table spread with fresh food, water and wine. A multitude of candle clusters stood about the chamber—this was a wealthy household indeed that could afford the extravagance of so many candles burning at once.
‘I shall return when you have had time to recuperate,’ Denera advised. ‘Please make yourselves at home.’
I thanked our hostess most sincerely as she exited and closed the doors behind her.
‘If there is a bath within a hundred miles, you will always find it by nightfall,’ Albray said, pleased to finally be at leisure to speak openly with me.
‘There is a goddess watching over me, to be sure,’ I agreed, and watched my knight as he collapsed Raineath’s form onto the bed. ‘So, if you could take your leave some time soon, that would be most appreciated.’
‘Even if I depart this body, I shall not be able to leave until Raineath awakes and dismisses me,’ he pointed out.
He was right. And as I was not the current holder of the stone, I could not so easily perceive my ghostly knight’s comings and goings. I realised that Raineath was still wearing her head cover.
‘Why are you still wearing that?’ I asked. ‘Raineath does not willingly subscribe to the faith, you realise?’
‘I would not have walked all day in this by choice,’ Albray replied. ‘Raineath is not ready to remove it.’
‘Because of her injuries?’ I took a step towards the woman. ‘Shall I assess—’
‘No.’ Albray held out
a hand to keep me at bay. ‘Swear you will not look.’
It was clear Albray was relaying the message directly from Raineath. I respected her wish and backed away. ‘I swear.’
Albray removed the bracelet that held his stone from the woman’s wrist and held it out to me. ‘Raineath is sorry that she lied about finding our stone, and would like me to return it,’ he said.
‘I cannot allow her to give the stone back, for that will invoke a curse upon her,’ I explained. I wondered how we were going to get around that little sub-clause.
‘All you have to do is make a gift to Raineath in exchange; something that may serve her as well as I,’ Albray challenged. I could tell he would judge my offering as a reflection of how much he meant to me personally.
‘Well, although I do not possess anything that could match your worth, my friend, I do have something that will aid Raineath to make a new start for herself.’
I reached down inside my cleavage and began rooting around in my corset. Although I could not see Albray’s face, I could sense his amusement. Indeed, this was no ordinary corset—Nanny Beat had made it specially for me, to store my emergency currency when travelling. Eventually I produced a large diamond to exchange for my lost ringstone.
‘Raineath is satisfied—sorry, no,’ Albray corrected himself, ‘she is overwhelmed by your generosity and forgiveness.’
He took the diamond from me, handed back my treasure stone and then waved me goodbye. Raineath’s body collapsed back onto the bed, her hand clutching to her heart the jewel that would ensure her future prosperity and freedom.
‘The poor girl must be exhausted after her ordeal,’ I said, gazing down at her. Then I sensed my ghostly knight standing at my side once more, and turned to find him staring at me fondly.
‘Yes, but she handled herself very well,’ he said.
I felt that he was paying me the compliment. ‘You could not begin to conceive how I have missed you, old friend.’
Albray’s smile conveyed that he had missed me too. ‘So I may stay while you bathe?’ he teased.