Betrayed (17 page)

Connor, stunned, stared at the most beautiful room he had ever seen. An octagonal chamber had somehow been hewn out of very heart of the island. The enormous room sparkled with the light of a dozen oil lamps. Opulent gold trim, designed as an endless pattern of woven roses, circled both the top and bottom of the room, glistening in the soft, amber light. Looking up, he was surprised to see the same huge five-petal rose that adorned the ceiling of the chapel at the Kirkwall fortress.

Four of the eight walls portrayed stunning biblical scenes. He recognized the wise and beautiful Queen Esther angrily confronting Haman, the evil advisor. To the right was Beth, devastated at the premonition of Jesus's upcoming death, on her knees, washing the feet of the Lord Jesus with her tears and hair. To the left was a powerful image, Judge Deborah, arms raised, praising God as a ragtag force of Israelite soldiers destroyed the mighty Canaanite army in the valley below. And directly opposite the entrance, Mary Magdalene, Johanna and Mary, mother of James, were excitedly proclaiming the risen Christ to the unbelieving eleven male disciples.

The four remaining walls held shelf upon shelf of sealed boxes and scrolls. Below their feet, a beautifully tiled floor, in the Byzantine style, worked a circular geometric pattern to create a huge dazzling rose. From the centre of the rose emerged a curved pedestal resembling a delicate vase-shaped stigma. On top of the stigma sat a rather ordinary, small stone box. The box almost seemed out of place, considering the surrounding opulence. Connor didn't doubt that the stone box held something of extreme importance as it was central to everything in the room. Angus nudged him and nodded to a table in the corner of the room, full of fresh fruit, pitchers of drink and bread. Refreshments from the earlier reception, Connor surmised. To Angus and his unending appetite, it was more beautiful than all of the artwork put together.

Prince Henry gestured them forward until they all gathered around the pedestal and stone box.

The prince knelt down reverently, his head lowered and hand across his heart. Connor and Angus looked at each other, and as Antonio Zeno went down on one knee, the boys quickly followed suit. Several seconds passed before Prince Henry, Zeno and the boys straightened once again. The prince gazed at the box with heartfelt veneration. His lips barely moved as he whispered to his guests. “Welcome to the final resting place of the patron saint of the Templar Order, Mary Magdalene.”

Connor and Angus exchanged bewildered glances.

“
The
Mary Magdalene?” cried Angus, pointing to the wall. “The woman in the painting with the disciples?”

“Is it the remains of the Companion?” asked Na'gu'set, reverently stepping forward, tilting his head to one side.

“Companion?” asked Prince Henry inquisitively.

“Yes, the woman who accompanied the Great Teacher during His time here among us. These are truly her remains?”

Angus and Connor looked at each other, surprised that this mysterious native had detailed knowledge of Biblical stories. Connor took a harder look at the stone cross hanging around his neck.

Prince Henry nodded. “This is her ossuary. Within the container are all of her bones. This was the Jewish way of burial in her time. Even though she was buried in France, her remains were still interred in the traditional Jewish manner.”

“France?” Connor exclaimed.

“But she lived in the Holy Lands,” protested Angus. “What was Mary Magdalene doing in France?”

“Ah,” smiled Prince Henry. “You lads have not yet reached the Templar level where all becomes known. I am breaking every Templar protocol allowing you to even be here. As Na'gu'set correctly said, Mary Magdalene was a close companion of Jesus Christ, accompanying Him everywhere, even to His death on the cross while his disciples ran away and hid in fear. She was there at the gravesite to wrap Him in His final burial shroud and, as His other followers mourned His death in the hidden backrooms of Jerusalem, she was one of the few to make the daily walk to His hillside tomb in order to tend to the site. When Jesus rose from the dead, it was Mary on whom was bestowed the honour to be the first to see Him alive while everyone else thought Him dead. She received a special commission to go and tell the other disciples of the resurrection.”

“What happened to Mary after that?” asked Angus.

“That was the last time we hear of Mary Magdalene in
the Bible. But of course, the story continues. After Jesus' death, she travelled to France with her father and sisters to spread the word of Christ in a new land. Eventually, she married and had a family. Her descendants became the house of St. Clair.”

“Isn't St. Clair the French of Sinclair?” asked Angus.

“Indeed it is,” answered Prince Henry.

“Then that means you are related to Mary Magdalene?” exclaimed Connor.

The prince nodded, looking to the ossuary. “She is my distant ancestor. I am related to Jesus' companion, and many truths have been passed down through the generations from those early Christians. It is here that my distant ancestor will rest under the five-petal rose, the secret symbol of our family.”

“Tell them about the books,” coaxed Zeno.

The prince walked over to the side of the temple and placed his hand on top of a full shelf of bound material.

“Along these walls, sealed in water-tight containers, are priceless books rescued from Jerusalem after the first Crusade by the original Templar Knights, also the lost books rescued from the library of Alexandria, the . . .”

Prince Henry was cut off by a deep, menacing rumble.

“What was that?” asked Zeno, looking to the doorway.

“I don't know,” replied the prince, “but it seems to have echoed down through the entrance.”

Na'gu'set stepped forward, joining the men. “It was not a natural shaking of the earth.”

Concerned, Prince Henry gazed down the corridor. “Sorry, boys, but I think our tour is coming to a premature end. We better head to the surface and see what is going on.”

The five moved quickly to the doorway, and Zeno and Prince Henry began pushing the giant slab of rock. While the other three watched the operation, Connor gazed nervously up the corridor. The floor of the corridor was glistening more than it had when they first arrived. Connor realized something was wrong.

“Prince Henry! Look! Water!”

The door was halfway closed when the two men spun around. The first ripples of runoff splashed against their ankles. Further up, the water was more agitated, cascading down towards them.

“The coffer dam must have been severed,” said Zeno, dipping his hand into the water. He put it to his tongue. “Salt water.”

Angus pointed at a frothing wall of white water rushing down the corridor. “Look there! A giant wave is coming at us!”

Prince Henry grimaced in frustration. “We have no choice. It's rising too quickly. Everyone! Back into the temple!”

The small group quickly scampered back into the octagonal room, the flow of water reaching the level of a small stream, pouring in through the doorway and spilling out onto the tiled floor.

“Everyone! Grab the door and push!”

Together, they moved the stubborn stone across the entrance. As the gap narrowed, the torrent spewed through, protesting the constriction. With a final, soaking spray, the door finally slid shut, shielding them from the onslaught of the sea. The five men leaned up against the door, breathing heavily. Connor felt a wave of panic as realization of the situation washed over him. He was trapped in an underground temple with an ocean-flooded
tunnel the only means of escape. In the stone heart of an island, with his best friend and Prince Henry by his side, Connor MacDonald was going to die.

Stand away from the door!” Several women screamed as several wood planks from the cabin door shattered with an ear-splitting crack. A huge axe pulled back through the hole. Choking black smoke began to stream into the sheltered room. It appeared as if Hell itself was forcing its way through the entranceway.

“This is good news,” said Princess Sarah, trying to calm her sobbing friends. “I know who it is! He has come to help us.”

As she hugged her maiden-in-waiting in the far corner of the listing cabin, she recognized the voice of Black Douglas. He had been put in charge of her personal safety for almost three years, and she trusted him completely. He would find a way to rescue them from this disaster.

With a kick, the door flew open. Filling the shattered frame was the hulking outline of Black Douglas himself, smoke swirling in and around him like a heroic apparition from some ancient battle. The women choked on the acrid smoke as Prince Henry's second in command stepped through the opening.

“What happened? Why did the ship explode?” asked the princess, ushering the younger girls towards the door.

“The powder room,” explained Black Douglas. “Something ignited the gunpowder in the forward hold.”

Sarah nodded. “We were all thrown against the wall by the force of the blast. I'm afraid that Stephanie is badly hurt.”

Black Douglas strode over to a young woman curled up on the floor and gently threw her over his shoulder.

“We don't have much time, my princess. The boat is sinking rapidly. Everyone, join hands and follow me! You won't be able to see a thing in the smoke, so don't let go.”

Black Douglas strode up to Sarah, removed his leather glove and offered his hand.

“Princess, if you would take mine and help lead the young maidens?”

Sarah hesitated. It would break royal protocol for someone who wasn't a relative or suitor to touch her in such a way. The boat suddenly shifted further onto its side. Almost losing her balance, she grasped his open palm.

“Get us out of here,” she commanded.

Black Douglas nodded gravely and led them into the corridor. The stinging thick smoke made it impossible to see. She squeezed her lids shut and trusted the guidance of the knight. After several turns and stumbles, he brought the procession to a stop, letting go of Princess Sarah's hand.

“Here is the staircase to the above decks,” he shouted. “Let go of each other's hand and grab the handrails. Follow the stairs towards the light. I will lead to ensure the way up is safe. Princess Sarah, please, ensure everyone is here then ascend as quickly as possible!”

“Quickly, my friends, quickly!” urged Sarah, counting each of them as they climbed the leaning stairs.

If her eyes had not been stinging she would have been able to glimpse a yellow, broken-toothed grin from underneath the stairs. The hidden stranger waited for all
of the other women to disappear to the higher deck before leaving his hiding place and quickly circling to the stairs himself. Princess Sarah, coughing into a linen handkerchief, followed her final friend towards the deck but before her foot hit the second step, the back of her head suddenly exploded in pain and her world spiralled into an endless sea of darkness.

The crowd at the edge of the dock erupted in cheers as Black Douglas materialized with the young maiden Stephanie on his shoulder. Soon other women appeared on deck beside him, coughing and wiping away their smoke-filled tears. Black Douglas ushered them away from the hatch towards the improvised rope ladders that dropped down to a flotilla of small skiffs bobbing in the bay. As Black Douglas passed Stephanie over the rail to a waiting sailor, a scream froze the entire operation.

“Where is she?” shrieked one of the maidens.

“Where is who?” asked Black Douglas, spinning around.

“My cousin! Princess Sarah! Where is she?”

He scanned the group. “My Lord, you're right! She must still be below deck!”

Black Douglas called out to a tall red-headed knight organizing the abandonment of the ship.

“Sir Liam! We have a problem!”

“Speak, my friend,” the knight said, striding over. “What is it?”

“Princess Sarah! She didn't come up with the others. She must still be trapped below decks in the smoke.”

“I will find her,” he offered.

“No, I'm leaving you in charge of getting everyone else off the ship. I put their safety in your hands. The ship will be
going down at any moment. I'll do my best to find her!”

“But Master,” cried Sir Liam, “you might get trapped inside as well!”

But Black Douglas was already at the hatch, and he disappeared back into the thick smoke.

“It took you long enough,” a voice gasped. Black Douglas could just barely see through the curtain of smoke the outline of a thin man unceremoniously propping up the unconscious princess with his arms around her waist.

“I hope you didn't hit her too hard, Thomas.”

“She'll wake up with a headache, but she'll be fine,” the man coughed, “assuming we don't stay down here a second longer.”

“You are one of my most loyal men,” offered Black Douglas, “I'll take her from here.”

The sailor dragged Princess Sarah to his leader and lifted her easily up off the floor to the taller Douglas. In the smoke and noise, Thomas didn't see as the unsheathed dagger cut through the smoky air and embedded itself in his exposed ribs. The sharp blade slid between the bones, coming to a stop deep within the sailor's heart. Thomas took one last gurgling gasp then collapsed onto the lower deck as Black Douglas threw the princess up over his shoulder.