While the soldiers continued discussing the merits of firearms versus bows, Jane stepped around Barlow, intrigued. “Regardless, it appears we must observe what an archer would survey when standing in the well.”
She moved into the window well formed by the thick stone walls and pressed her hands and nose to the glass. Beyond lay Carlisle proper. What was the archer supposed to see? She lifted the letter to read the next line silently. It seemed that the line was a continuation of the one from Adam’s letter, so she spoke them aloud in sequence.
“Look to the archer revealing the way, to long-hallowed ground of ancient giants.” She glanced up to find Adam just at her shoulder. He read his next line.
“Who offered to men and to kings great defiance.”
He screwed his jaw to one side in apparent consideration and lifted his eyes to peer straight ahead at a wide street running almost directly away from the window. He pointed toward it.
“What road is that?”
Carver and Simms stopped in mid-conversation and ambled into the well. Carver craned his neck in the direction Adam pointed.
“Botchergate.”
“Where does it lead?”
“Why, Botchergate is simply the London Road.”
“Although,” said Simms, “Many locals call it by its older name.”
Jane turned to the soldier. “And that is?”
“The Roman Road, on account of the fact that the Romans built it before they left. It yet endures, a veritable marvel of engineering.”
Adam stepped nearer to her, his eyes shining. “The retreating invaders! Romans, not Jacobites!”
His insight sent her thoughts racing. “Of course! The letter cannot speak of Jacobites because they retreated northward. This window faces south.”
“Yes. The Romans were the original invaders here. When they finally left, they retreated south toward London.” Adam faced an intrigued Carver. “What lies down the Roman Road beyond Carlisle?”
The soldier shrugged. “The villages of Hesket and Penrith. Naught else for a fair distance.”
His dismissive tone led Jane to assume the villages were of little note. She was about to press him further when Carver’s eyes narrowed.
“I must confess,” he said, “that your line of questioning is most confusing. I had expected inspection and assessment to proceed differently. Here you display more interest in everything outside the keep than in the keep itself.”
Barlow stepped between Carver and Jane before she could give a potentially implicating response. He draped an arm over Carver’s shoulder while gathering Simms beneath the other.
“I see now why they post you as sentries. Your keen powers of perception suit you to the task. Those powers have uncovered our larger mission.”
The soldiers smiled with satisfaction and nodded at each other in a tacit exchange of congratulations. Simms peered at Barlow. “And what, sir, is your larger mission?”
The solicitor pulled the men into a discreet huddle and lowered his voice. “A treasure hunt.”
Jane grew alarmed. Surely, sharing the true purpose of their mission would land them in trouble, invite unwanted competition, or both. The sudden interest on the faces of the soldiers confirmed her fears.
“Treasure?” said Carver. “What kind of treasure?”
Before Jane could stop Barlow, he swept a hand overhead. “Why, this castle, of course. And other relics strung across the length and breadth of England. Treasures one and all.”
When disappointment registered on the faces of the soldiers, Barlow stood tall and lifted a single hand, palm up. “Imagine it, men. These castles, walls, and ancient ruins tell the story of our people. A people who formed from a thousand warring tribes to ward off or consume wave upon wave of invaders. A people who became lords and masters of the far-flung seas. A people whose empire stretches to the distant corners of the globe.”
He motioned to the castle around them.
“This castle plays an important role in that story, as do you as the latest in a long line of those who stood in the gaps to defend Mother Britannia.”
Disappointment on the soldiers’ faces gave way to wonder and pride. “We are part of the story?” said Carver.
