Chapter Thirteen

 

Bones of Contention

 

In some respects the expedition had been a total failure. Hiram and Bernard had showed their hands to the enemy, now the laird would know and understand the PXI. Though they had gained just some of the pieces of the puzzle and a gun, none of the pieces would fit with the general picture. Neither knew what or who the master was and neither could reconcile mind control on that massive scale.

“What do you think of this master thing?” Hammy asked as he drove off in the direction of home.

“I don’t know, I don’t think Willoden knows. He is a very arrogant and ignorant fool.”

“If you say so, Bernie.”

“I don’t think it’s a very good idea to go back to my house at March.”

“Why not?”

“Because Willoden recognized us.”

“You mean he recognized you, Bernard. He didn’t know me.”

“Doesn’t matter either way, the laird will know where I live and he’ll read Willoden’s thoughts … if he is the master. That means there is probably a surprise waiting for us at the house.”

“A very nasty surprise,” Hiram added.

“I think ...” Professor Nightingale said. “I think that we should destroy the stop fire as soon as possible. We can’t spend the rest of our lives wearing this PXI. It looks ridiculous. If it is a government project … well, then we’ll have to face the consequences, but I believe this thing to be nefarious.”

“I guess you are right, Bernard. How do you suggest that we accomplish that feat?”

“I have a friend who could probably get us the explosives, but it will cost money, lots of money.”

“Well, I’ve got about a thousand left in the bank,” Hiram said. “And then I’m skint.”

After a while Hammy pulled the car over to the side of the road. He got out and made Bernard take the wheel. The old prof. knew the way to Heacham; Hammy didn’t even know the area at all.

It was shortly before midnight when they pulled up to the cottage. The sea air smelled invigorating and the PXI was becoming a nuisance. Hammy took his off and shook his head like a dog emerging from water.

“That feels better,” he commented.

“I think I’ll keep mine on for awhile,” Bernard said.

They had a late supper, which Hammy bought from an all-night takeaway, and then retired without further incident. In the morning Bernard phoned his friend, the demolition engineer. He arranged to buy a case of gelignite. It was an under-the-table arrangement that would take about a week to complete. Between them, they decided a week was too long, some action had to be taken before then. Unanimously they decided to visit Craig again and do a little snooping around. Somehow, somewhere, all the pieces of the puzzle they had collected would fit together. The difficulty being, how to sort legend and fable from fact. Bernard had the habit of writing everything down and then reading what he had written aloud. In this manner he would spot things that he otherwise may have missed.

“As I see it,” he said to Hiram, “there are four things that are facts and may be the solution to this puzzle.”

“Oh! what are they?”

“I see it as a circle. There are four spokes radiating from the centre. This is how we should piece the puzzle together. First there’s the laird and/or the master. Are they related? Who and where are they? Then there’s the castle and Morag, where’s the relationship there? Thirdly, the suitors and the church. Then fourth and to complete the circle, we have the stop fire which leads us back to the laird. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

“No.”

“We have to find the relationship between these facts. We have the laird, the castle, Morag, the suitors, the church and the stop fire.”

“Well,” Hammy said, “in that case we should spend the time waiting for your explosives by taking a poke around up north, though I can’t quite see any connection.”

“With all new batteries in the PXIs we would be safe. We should take the spare one too, just in case.”

Hiram thought for a few moments. “Maybe we should try to get Jock Willox to put the PXI on. I bet he knows more than the laird lets him say. So what about Jeffrey DeScagmore?”

“What about him?”

“Well, where does he come into the picture?”

“I don’t know and I think we should leave Mr Willox alone,” Bernard said. “He would give our position away and we could certainly do without that. We don’t want the laird knowing exactly where we are until we have blown up the monument.”

“Well, we could take another look at Craigai Castle. There must be something there that the laird didn’t want me to see or why scare me into jumping over the cliff?”

The decision was final. Early on the following morning they would set out to explore the old castle on the stack. Preparations were made, the vehicle fuelled up and even new batteries for the PXIs, and food so they would not have to be seen by anyone. Bernard was far more resolute than he had been previously. He had begun to reason out the numerous possibilities of this strange case and knew for certain that magic did not enter into it.

Believing that the laird could not track him without direct knowledge of his present position, he decided to wear his PXI only when Hiram said so. This would give greater battery life and greater comfort. As before the drive to Coldingham Bay was long and boring. They arrived about eleven thirty in the morning. For comfort sake they shared the driving. The headgear was applied an hour before arrival in the danger zone.

Knowing the way, Hammy drove the last few kilometres past Jock Willox’s place and continued to Meikle Lane. He turned into the long, dusty lane that led to the cliffs. At the end he parked the car facing home, for a quick getaway. There was not a soul in sight, as if the world were completely deserted.

“This is it, prof. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

“No, why?”

“You’ll see.”

Taking a large hand lantern each and looking like two space aliens, they left the car and began the long walk along the cliffs to the stack. Bernard became less enthusiastic when they reached the spot where the path had fallen into the ocean some 100 metres below. By holding Hammy’s hand he made it past the danger point. The castle itself was not impressive, having been destroyed centuries before. There was virtually nothing recognizable above ground level save for a few pieces of wall.

The bridge to the stack presented another obstacle that Bernard baulked at. He did not want to cross it, but again with coaxing and holding Hiram’s hand he made it. Most of the castle above ground level was overgrown by weeds and shrubs. Only close inspection revealed that it was part of an ancient building.

“I can’t see that anything here could possibly be of use to us,” the prof. said.

“Well, I think there must be. The laird didn’t want me here. That makes me think there has to be something. Last time I noticed that over there are some old steps leading downwards, but I didn’t have a lamp with me. This time we come prepared.”

“For every eventuality?” Bernard questioned.

“Yes, I even have a gun this time. Nothing is going to stop us finding out whatever it is that we’re not supposed to see. Come on.”

They walked to where Hammy had indicated the steps to be. “Does the place look the same as it did the last time you were here?”

Hammy looked around. “Yeah, sure. Why shouldn’t it?”

“Well, you are wearing the PXI. I just wondered if it looked different.”

“The sky looks rather strange. Come on, down this passage.”

The two switched on their lamps and walked into the dank and dark tunnel and down the ancient stone steps. The whole area had become heavily overgrown. Mud and garbage lay on the floor of the tunnel. Someone had been burning something, like a campfire. Its remains were quite old and wet. They walked slowly, deeper and deeper into the passage.

“Feel that?” Hammy said and stopped.

“What?”

Hammy jumped up and landed hard on the soft soil floor. “That. Did you feel it?”

Bernard paused thoughtfully. “I didn’t feel anything except you jumping.”

“Keep still.” Hammy jumped hard again. “Did you feel it that time?”

“Give me a clue, what am I supposed to feel?”

“The ground, it’s bouncy.”

“Is that really surprising?”

Hiram put one hand on his hip and pulled a face. “You can’t be that insensitive. I could feel it when I walked on it.”

Bernard jumped up and landed as hard as he could. “How’s that?” he asked. “Can you feel it when I do it?”

“No.”

The two walked a little farther into the depths of the man-made tunnel.

“I felt that,” Bernard said, stopping. “And I don’t like it.”

“So did I.”

Hiram jumped as high as he could and landed as hard as possible. The manoeuvre was a success. With a creaking roar the floor to the tunnel collapsed and Hiram disappeared from sight altogether.

Bernard managed to scramble back to safe ground. He called, “Hammy, Hammy, are you alright?”

“Yes,” came the sullen reply. “I’m okay, but I can’t see anything. Either the lantern’s broke or it’s buried. Shine a light down here, will yah.”

The professor turned his lamp out. “Can you see it now?” he shouted.

“No, I said shine a light, not put it out.”

Carefully Bernard inched forward, pointing his light at the gaping hole in the floor. “Does that help any?”

“No.”

“I dare not come any closer for fear of following you though.”

“It’s alright, I’ve found the lantern. The bulb must have broken when it fell in here with me.”

“There’s a spare in the back of the canister. Just unscrew it and you’ll find it.”

There was silence from the dark pit for quite a long time and then suddenly there was light. Hiram had found the spare bulb and replaced the dud.

“I can’t get out of here, it’s too high up,” he called. “We should have brought a rope.”

“Should I go get help?”

“Holy shit, man,” Hiram yelled. “Who you going to get? The laird maybe.”

“I’ll see if I can get a rope then, will that be alright?”

“Yes. Don’t leave me down here and don’t get seen, we don’t want the laird after us. I’ve got nowhere to run.”

Terrified by the new and deadly turn of events, Bernard slowly backed his way out of the tunnel. Hiram shone his light around to inspect the passage he had fallen into. The walls were slimy and damp. The ceiling was made of wooden beams as thick as a man’s waist. More than 400 years of rot had rendered the wood useless. It powdered to dust in his hands.

Farther along the passage stood a wooden door, held together by totally rusted rivets. Angrily, Hiram gave the door a kick. It collapsed easily under the powerful blow, crashing to the floor and breaking up. Gingerly he pressed on through the doorway and into a new chamber. This one was drier and cleaner. The walls were rock and so was the ceiling. Along both sides lay a shelf carved into the bedrock.

Hiram stood and stared at what he had found, an expression of shock on his face. The rock shelf was lined with the remains of dead people. They looked to have been dead for centuries, each body having been wrapped in some silk-like thread, almost like spider’s web. Though he did not count them, there looked to be hundreds of these mummified corpses.

Breathing hard with his heart pounding in his ears, he walked deeper and deeper into the catacomb. The floor appeared to slope downward. There were no artefacts in the passage. No pots or pieces of any man-made object that may give a clue as to the purpose of this place. There were no candles or any sign that the long-forgotten builders had used light of any sort.

At length he came to another door. This one looked stronger as the rivets and studs were not so rusty. He poked the wood with his finger to test its strength. Then, without warning, he hauled back and gave the door a tremendous kick. The bang reverberated up the near-empty passage, sounding like thunder rolling into the distance. Again he kicked the door, and again. He could see that it was beginning to give under the onslaught. He kicked it once more and one of the rusty hinges gave way. A couple more kicks and the door burst outward. Beyond it was just the continuation of the first corridor. It still had the web-wrapped skeletons on the rock shelf.

Eventually he reached yet another door, but this one was in the side of the passage, not the end. Its rivets were very rusty. Only two kicks and the door disappeared into the sunlight. The ocean thundered 5 or 6 metres below. Hiram looked out across the bay. No land was visible, just open sea. At that point a decision had to be made. Could he in fact reach the coast from that doorway or would he have to walk back to the cave-in and await a rope?

With nerves of steel, Hammy decided to risk the outside world. Carefully he climbed onto the rocks. The tide was out, leaving a rocky but passable beach not too far below. He switched off the lantern and began climbing down the rocks to the beach. Hiram slowly worked his way round the giant stack, eventually reaching the mainland side. Crossing to the land mass was easier than circling the stack. There was nothing for it but to work his way along the beach, but which way? There were only two choices: south-east towards Abb’s Head or north-west towards where the car was parked.

The beach looked small, the tide out, and the going seemed fairly easy. He hoped to find some way up the cliffs before the tide came in again. At long last he found a path that ascended the cliff face. At the top he discovered that he had passed the parked car by almost a kilometre. Walking the short distance was very easy, though he shuddered at the thought.

At long last he reached the car; it was still there and empty. Quickly he opened it and climbed in. Not too far distant stood a row of small cottages, probably a farm or the like. Almost an hour passed when he spotted the Martian-like form of the professor walking from the cliff path. Bernard spotted Hiram in the car and ran the last few steps.

“How did you get here?” he gasped.

“Never mind me. Where the hell have you been?”

“I am so sorry, Hammy. I can’t help it. I am a coward when it comes to heights. I could not pass that spot where the path had fallen into the sea. I walked the other way. But there is no other way up, I had to return.”

“Never mind now.”

“How did you get here?”

“Get in the car,” Hiram said. “I walked via the beach. You’ll never guess what I found in the cave.”

“I don’t know. Tell me.”

Hiram started the engine and began driving. “I found hundreds of skeletons. Dead people. Hundreds of them. Absolutely more dead people than you could shake a stick at.”

“Now that is interesting, Hammy. So there was more than just one every leap year?”

“I didn’t stop to count them, but yes. There has to be well over 100 at a conservative guess. The most interesting thing is that they were wrapped in what looked like web, the sort spiders have.”

“I do not understand that. So where are we going now?”

“I’m hungry. You?”