Chapter Twenty-one

The Caverns, Deirdre’s Chamber

The chamber was filled with the sound of the old ballad “Barbara Allen” being flawlessly played on a harp. Von Traeger, in fencer’s regalia, dueled with another man, also in protective gear—though “dueling” might be an overstatement. The German gained easy ground, forcing his opponent to the wall and then disarmed him with a deft lunge. Another flick of the wrist and the straps of the cornered man’s protective mask were severed. It fell away revealing a terrified Alec. Von Traeger, enjoying himself, toyed with his victim, slashing Alec’s arms and laughing at the man’s panic. The wounds were deliberately superficial, but Alec whimpered, watching the red stains spread on his white sleeves. He tried to fight down his growing dread.

Von Traeger was pleased as he lectured, “In Heidelberg, we fight mensur style. The target is the head.” And his cheek bore the dueling scar that was a mark of pride with the Prussian aristocracy.

“My men use their heads occasionally,” interrupted Deirdre, who wore her priestess robes while playing her ornate harp. She stopped; her nimble fingers left the strings. Her remorseful voice was almost motherly. “But not you, Alec. You and Sean were sent to observe Lady Dorrington. Not only did you disobey me by attacking her, but you let her win.”

Von Traeger snapped the point of his blade under Alec’s chin, not breaking the skin, but forcing Alec to his toes. Alec gaped pleadingly at Deirdre.

Her fingers floated across the strings, producing an eerie dissonance. “You and Sean have nearly upset a delicately balanced equation.” Deirdre plucked the harp. The sound was dark and angry. “Lady Dorrington must have her clues in the proper sequence.” Her voice became vehement. “I’m leading our little detective to the greatest crime in history. Holding it in front of her eyes, and yet she can’t see it.” Deirdre suddenly stopped.

Alec and Von Traeger were amazed at her intensity. The blade dropped from Alec’s chin. He breathed hard in relief. “MacMurdo the poacher was about to talk. We stopped him.”

Deirdre’s fires died as rapidly as they flared. She returned to her harp and continued matter-of-factly. “He would have said nothing she doesn’t already suspect, but cannot prove.” She plucked the cords and said sadly, “I can’t risk unpredictable elements, Alec.”

Alec was terrified, but not stupid, and he knew what that meant. He bolted past Von Traeger and threw himself at Deirdre’s feet, grasping the hem of her robe. “Please, Priestess—forgive me. This Sassenach woman—she’s destroying you … and we need you so … we …” He ceased talking and offered his palm for the blood supplication.

“Not that way, Alec,” she said softly, as she helped him to his feet and embraced him.

“Priestess, please.” Alec desperately pleaded for forgiveness. Her embrace suddenly tightened and her fingernails dug deeply into his neck. He tensed, looked at her in anguish, and then quivered in her arms. She loosened her caress and he reached for the wounds, feeling the wet blood. His eyes darted from his stained fingers to his priestess. Deirdre gave him a kiss on the forehead. “You have violated one of our most ancient and unviable rules: I alone decide the Smiling Death.” He slid down her body to the floor.

“Yes, Alec. Forgiven,” she took a towel from the table and wiped the lethal poison from her nails.

Von Traeger angrily marched over, “Even a dummer mensch deserves a decent death!”

“He looks contented enough.”

Alec’s corpse grinned with the cult’s gruesome trademark. Deirdre sat back at the harp and resumed “Barbara Allen,” singing with the voice of an angel. She was capable of much beauty.

  

Von Traeger and two men carried Alec’s stiff, grinning body into a bizarre chamber that was almost completely carved with the brutal faces visible on the ruins above. Very little of the natural rock had been left uncleaved. The most elaborate work was the floor, where an agonized face, with a mammoth open mouth, gaped frozen in an eternal silent scream. Ruby crystals were set deep in the eye-sockets of the floor’s visage, gleaming crimson and reflecting the torches that were fixed to the wall. These torches jutted out of the eyes of the wall carvings, suggesting they had been blinded by impalement. Surrounded by the tortured faces, the chamber embodied unceasing torment.

Von Traeger snapped his fingers, and Alec’s body was dumped into the maw on the ground. The corpse vanished into the blackness, but there was no sound of impact. Von Traeger stared into the endless darkness. “Odd how you never hear them hit bottom.”