“Return to the light, Jane! We must return to the light!”
They hurried from the hallway, fleeing the notion of the ghosts of dead royalty.
Chapter Eleven
Jane clung to the folds of Adam’s coat as they rushed from the prayer room. For the entire length of the hallway, the vulnerable space between her shoulder blades tingled as every fairy tale, ghost story, and lurid legend raced through her panicked thoughts. The moment she finally tumbled from darkness into the storeroom, she began to laugh breathlessly. Adam cocked his head and flashed a mild grin.
“What amuses you so?”
She paused to catch her breath. “I was skeptical of Mr. Carver’s ghostly claims, but now I am not so certain.”
“We told you so,” said Carver.
“Twice,” added Simms. “Now you know why we shun the prayer room.”
“Indeed. I will follow your prudent example henceforth.”
Hester grabbed Jane’s hand, her face drawn with concern. “What happened in there? We heard your scream.”
Jane glanced at Adam and grinned. “The confluence of overactive imaginations and ancient structures, I imagine. However, we did as the letter suggested and prayed where a king’s soul took flight.”
“What’s next, then?”
She retrieved her letter once again. The dimness of the chamber made reading difficult, so she turned her back to the window for light. “The next line reads, ‘pivot to ponder the radiance of day.’”
She glanced at Adam, who was already examining his letter. “Mine says, ‘look to the archer revealing the way.’”
He peered at her with narrowed eyes as each repeated the combined lines in a whisper. Barlow stepped forward.
“I may have it.”
Hester touched his arm. “What do you think, Mr. Barlow?”
He smiled proudly at her, seemingly lost for words. Then he pointed toward the window. “The window tells all.”
Jane cocked her head. “How so, sir?”
“The window serves a dual purpose. It resides on the south wall, the optimal location for allowing sunlight to penetrate the interior.”
“The radiance of day!” said Adam. “To ponder the radiance of day, we must face the window.”
“Exactly. When doing so, we must consider the second and more important purpose of the window.”
“And that is?”
Barlow moved toward it while motioning with his hands. “The keep was constructed long before the use of glass, so this window would have been open to the outside. And see how tall and narrow it is? Tall enough for a man to stand inside the window well but narrow enough that the enemy could not easily maneuver projectiles through it. In other words, the perfect niche for an archer defending the keep.”
“True,” said Carver. “This place was built for the benefit of the archer.”
Simms nodded. “And even better for those with firearms.”
Carver shook his head. “I would argue your point. An archer need not pause to load shot.”
“But a firearm proves more accurate than a bow for all but the most expert of bowmen.”
“Good observation, Simms. However, the flash of powder at night draws attention to the precise location of the rifleman.”
“I see your point, Carver. Perhaps the archer and rifleman working in concert would provide a most formidable defense.”
