He closed the castle’s front door softly behind him. The castle faced west, so he did not see the rising sun; however, the sky before him shifted from the dark of night to the gray of dawn. He walked toward the stables. He heard Carlyle talking to the chickens behind the stable, coaxing the hens to move aside so he might gather their eggs for Cook. He walked around the stable to see Carlyle. He waited for Carlyle to spot him. When the man did, he walked toward him.
“Mornin’, m’lord,” Carlyle said. “Ye be up early.”
“Yes. I couldn’t sleep.”
Carlyle nodded his head in understanding.
“Can you tell me how to find the cave?” Lakehurst asked him.
Carlyle compressed his lips. “Aye, but best I show ye.” He set the egg basket on the ground.
Lakehurst touched his arm to draw his attention back. “Go take those to the kitchen first,” Lakehurst told him. “I’ll wait.”
“Aye. I will be quick,” Carlyle promised. He picked the basket back up again and trotted off toward the castle kitchen entrance.
Lakehurst walked back to the path that ran along the cliff edge. He probably could find the cave himself if he tracked the worn path, but he wanted to talk to Carlyle away from others. It was challenging enough as it was to remember always to face Carlyle when he spoke to him. The man seemed to read lips well. He wondered how he learned.
He walked toward the cliff edge. The morning fog had settled into the crevasse. Maybe he should wait to explore the cave until the fog burned away with the rising sun. But if he waited, no doubt others would want to come as well, which would not allow him to absorb the setting for himself and question Carlyle as he wished. As they had used the cave at night, surely there were torches or oil lamps in the cave to light their way.
When Carlyle returned, he carried two lit lanterns and a handful of punks to light other lanterns or candles. He handed one lantern to Lakehurst.
Lakehurst told Carlyle to lead him to the cave and was surprised when the man turned back toward the castle. They went behind a large stack of gray limestone at the other side of the castle forecourt and then down a trail made into a rough-cut limestone stairway. Lakehurst looked back. The cave must be directly under the castle! That was a surprise. Did the cave also have one of the hidden entrances to the castle? He imagined it did.
If so, that will need to be blocked, he thought grimly.
They followed a switchbacked path until they came to a large opening in the cliff face. As Ellinbourne had told him, carved into the rock at the top of the entrance were the words:Do what thou wilt.
Lakehurst wryly wondered what sybaritic pleasures that entailed!
They first stepped inside a small room, like a receiving chamber or anteroom. A thick layer of dust covered everything. Once elegant red velvet upholstery had turned brown and showed the depredations of small animals chewing through the fabric. Nude marble statues now appeared as clothed in brown cloth from the dirt and dust that had blown into the chamber. The rug underfoot showed paws, claws, and hoofprints of various creatures.
Carlyle lit torches at either side of the entrance.
“This way, m’lord,” he said, pointing to a narrow opening in the back wall.
Lakehurst followed him. Immediately, their lantern light became insufficient to see the scale of the room they entered. He instinctively ducked when something flew by his head.
Bats
The cave smelled of damp, must, and ammonia.
Carlyle lit more torches around the room, and as he lit each one, Lakehurst’s wonder at the space increased. More bat wings beat the air. He ducked again quickly. In a wild flurry of beating wings and odd cries, hundreds of bats flew about the room as they found their way out of the cave, disturbed by their intrusion.
Bat droppings littered the floor, and roaches, feasting on the droppings, glinted in the torchlight as they skittered about. Lakehurst conceded he’d not considered this aspect of caves in his novels. Perhaps he should in future books.
The furniture set about the room was in better condition than the entrance area, but were covered in more bat droppings than dust. A large stone slab had had a bowl shape carved out of its center. Remnants of spent charcoal lay under the bat droppings. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling on a pulley to allow it to be raised and lowered to have its candles lit and extinguished. Below the chandelier stood an altar with iron rings embedded in the rock, much like he’d described in his novel. Around the room, situated between the chairs and more marble statues, were tented beds. Some tents still hung, two had fallen to drape over the bed beneath it and across the floor.
When he’d finished lighting the torches around the room, Carlyle went over to the altar.
“Here,” he said, his voice echoing slightly. He laid his hand on the altar.
Lakehurst walked across the room to join him by the altar.
“Here I find them.”
“Lord Darkford and Lady Darkford?”
He nodded, then looked back at the altar. Lakehurst followed the man’s gaze to see the traces of blood on the side of the thick stone and on the floor.
