She stopped in front of the guard, speaking in an imperious voice. "We have traveled far across the ocean to this land so that we might see the remains of the saint."
"Why is a woman speaking to me?" the guard replied. "Where’s your man?"
"I bring men who speak no English. I act for them and our Lord. If you would but grant us entry to see the staff of power, I can assure you that you will be rewarded when we return to our lord. The Cannelloni people do not forget those who assist them."
"Cannelloni?" the guard said, looking ill at ease. "Never heard of them."
"I can assure you our Lord has heard of Robert de Ros and his hospitality toward pilgrims. Would you have your Lord hear of your lack of hospitality?" She put her hand on the guard's shoulder, smiling warmly at him as Lennox felt another flare of jealousy. "I would be most sorry if I had to report we were turned away by, sorry, what was your name?"
"In you go," the guard said, his cheeks turning red. "The Steward’s first door on the left."
"Thank you," she said, kissing his cheek before waving to Lennox and the men. "Though these men cannot speak your language, you have their assured thanks also."
Each of the men nodded as he passed the guards and Lennox had to resist a chuckle as he went by, Rose pausing for him to catch up to her. "Cannelloni?" he whispered as they ducked inside.
She whispered back, "First name I could think of. Make sure your men don't speak. They'll blow our cover."
"They will say nothing."
The Steward came out of his room as they entered the hallway. He whispered to the guard before coming over to face Rose. "Might I assist you and your fellow travelers?"
Rose managed an even warmer smile than she'd given the guard. "We thank you for your kindness. The lord of these men has heard the tale of an awesome staff that is held here. Might we be permitted to gaze upon its wondrous beauty?"
"Ah, pilgrims are not allowed up the tower."
"That is such a shame. My Lord has given me the authority to make a sizable donation to yourselves upon receiving proof of the staff's power. I would hate to disappoint him by not being able to furnish him with such proof."
"A donation you say?"
"A most sizable one."
"Well," the Steward glanced around him. "Perhaps a little peek would do no harm. It is a most wondrous thing after all. I'll unlock this door."
He pulled out a set of keys from under his cloak, sliding one into the huge lock of the door to his right.
"What is that noise?" Rose asked, hearing a faint groaning sound coming from below her feet.
"That? Just a few Highlanders in the dungeon. Don't trouble yourself. They will be dealt with soon enough, and we have a mason at work on the noise. He will thicken this floor, and then all will be peaceful. This way."
He unlocked the door, taking them through and then up a set of spiral stone stairs. After three more floors, they stepped out into a small corridor, crossing it to another door.
Lennox was at the back of the group, watching the Steward in silence. Hearing about the boy being racked for stealing an apple infuriated him. To listen to the Steward laugh when he talked of Highlanders languishing in the dungeon made his blood boil.
The staff was the priority, but once they had hold of it, he would separate from the others, find those prisoners and get them out. A glance from Philip told him he was thinking the same.
"It's in here," the Steward said, stopping before the final door. "I must ask that none of your friends touch the staff. Can you make that clear to them?"
Rose turned to the men on the stairs and shook her head. "Nonno touchino staffano," she said in a firm voice, hoping the Steward didn't guess the words were gibberish.
The men nodded back at her as the door was unlocked for them.
Lennox could hardly believe it. Thanks to Rose, they had walked into an English stronghold, and with the help of the Steward, they were walking into the very room that held the staff. All without a single drop of blood spilled.
By the time he made it into the room, they were all crowded around, examining the staff.
The air tasted thick with magic. The staff lay upon a red cloth in the middle of the room. Made of dark wood, the staff exuded magic, the end smooth and glistening as if glazed like a tile. Dark spots covered the entire length of wood, no doubt the blood of the evil one.
"What do you think?" the Steward asked.
