Simon Beaufort - Murder in the Holy City

“Is there a house nearby?” asked Geoffrey, rubbing the base of his spine, where he had fallen. “If we shout, will anyone hear?”

“Oh, they’ll hear all right,” said Akira morosely. “But it won’t do us no good.”

“Must you keep saying that?” cried Geoffrey in exasperation. “Why will shouting not help?”

“Because the knight what lives there is called Sir Armand of Laon. And he’s a good friend of that skinny, fair-haired knight what threw us down here in the first place.”

Akira wanted to return to the more spacious cellar, but Geoffrey refused to budge from the sliver of light and hot breath of fresh air that occasionally oozed underneath the door. The knight lay flat on his stomach, but could see nothing except some brownish weeds. Akira had told him that the garden was fairly large, and the chances of anyone hearing shouts for help from the road were remote. And even if they did, no one was likely to investigate cries coming from the garden of as powerful a knight as Armand of Laon. Geoffrey lay on the chill stone floor and watched the light fade from under the door.

He did not think he was likely to fall asleep, but he did, exhausted by the events and tensions of the last few days. He awoke cold, stiff, and disoriented in total darkness. He was immediately seized by panic, and leapt to his feet struggling for breath. Akira, who was kicked awake in the process, grumbled in protest.

“Quiet!”

It did not sound like Akira’s voice, and Akira went obligingly silent. Geoffrey leaned against the wall, trying to bring his breathing under control, and heard the scrape of stone on wood. Someone was moving the rocks from the door! He wanted to cry out in relief, but how could he know it was not Armand coming to finish him off quietly under cover of darkness? But that was ridiculous! Armand had no need to do anything so risky, when all he had to do was wait patiently for a few days.

The sound came again, accompanied by a grunt in a familiar voice. Roger! Geoffrey pressed further back against the wall, wondering what was happening now. He was unarmed, having been made to drop his dagger and sword in Akira’s shop; there was no way he could best Roger in an unarmed fight at any time, but especially now when his limbs felt like jelly and he was gasping for breath like a landed fish.

Then the door was thrown open, and the sweet, warm air of Armand’s garden wafted into the tunnel. Geoffrey saw Roger’s great bulk silhouetted against the pre-dawn sky, and tensed himself.

“Geoff? Are you there, lad? It is me, Roger!” He took a step inside. “Geoffrey!” he called urgently.

“I’m here,” came Akira’s ingratiating voice from near Roger’s knees.

“Where is Geoffrey?” demanded Roger, reaching down and hauling Akira to his feet with a fistful of his grimy tunic. “If you have done anything to him, I will kill you!”

“There he is!” came another familiar voice, accompanied by a pointing finger. Melisende! Geoffrey saw Roger peer into the darkness, and then felt his arm grabbed as he was dragged outside.

Geoffrey was unresisting, wondering what was to happen next.

“Here you are, lad,” said Roger, thrusting a water bag at him. “Now, take some deep breaths. Are you all right? If that foul butcher has harmed you, I will tear him into little pieces …”

“I didn’t do nothing to him!” protested Akira. “He’s scarcely said a word to me the whole time we’ve been here, regardless of the fact that I’ve been telling him everything about me!”

“I am sure he has been right entertained,” said Roger dryly.

“You are making too much noise!” whispered Melisende urgently. She turned to Geoffrey. “Drink some water. You will feel better in a moment.”

“We do not have much time,” said Roger, glancing up at the sky. “Geoff? Look lively! We have work to do!”

Geoffrey sipped at the water, staring up at the speckle of stars in the lightening sky, wondering if he were dreaming. He took a deep breath, then another, and felt the strength returning to his limbs. This process was speeded along by a sudden and unexpected thump on the back by Roger, which brought tears to his eyes.

“Come on, lad, pull yourself together!” hissed Roger urgently.

“I don’t understand,” said Geoffrey, confused. “Why are you not off with Hugh?”

“How else would we have escaped?” whispered Roger. “I thought they meant to run us through there and then, and my sole object was to get a sword to protect us. Did you not understand the message I shouted to you?”

“See you in hell?” queried Geoffrey, his mind working sluggishly.

“Yes!” said Roger. “I thought you would work that out, you being so learned and all. You told me once that your vision of hell was being lost in deep airless tunnels. So, I shouted that I would see you in one, to let you know I would come for you. You did not understand?” He looked crestfallen.

“It was rather obscure,” said Geoffrey, weakly. He supposed he might have grasped Roger’s hidden message had he been anywhere but a cave, since he found caves were the last places in which he could think clearly.

“Well, I could not exactly shout ‘Hang on, lad, I will be back for you later,’ could I?” said Roger, somewhat belligerently. “I intended to come before now, but it has been chaotic at the citadel. Hugh has had all his men mount up and head out-he says for a desert patrol, but he means to kill the Advocate. He has scarcely let me out of his sight, since I think he was suspicious of the way I abandoned you at Akira’s. But as they rode out, I was able to slip away. I really did come as soon as I could,” he said gently, patting Geoffrey’s arm in a rough gesture of affection.

Geoffrey looked into Roger’s blunt, honest features peering down at him in concern, and wondered how he could have been so utterly wrong about his friends. Melisende stood to one side, watching him anxiously. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and took another deep breath.

“But how did you know to come here?” he asked, gesturing at the garden.

“Hugh levered the ring-pull out of the trapdoor in Akira’s shop,” said Roger, grudgingly admiring. “Cunning devil knew that no one would ever prise that great block of stone up without it. But while I was waiting for you to come back to Mistress Melisende’s home yesterday, Maria and I had a long time for chatting. She told me that Hugh and Adam had hauled Pius’s body along some tunnel to dump it in Akira’s house, while she went to open the trapdoor in the cellar. But she refused to tell me where the tunnel came out. As soon as I could get away from Hugh, I went to see if Mistress Melisende here might know.”

Melisende gave a shrug. “Fortunately, Maria had mentioned it to me once, when she told me some story of how she had escaped from the cellar after Akira had locked her in. I came with Sir Roger to make sure he found the right garden.” She smiled at Geoffrey, who forced himself to smile back.

“That Maria!” began Akira, with a shake of his greasy head. “But we shouldn’t hang around here. That Armand don’t like Akira in his garden.”

“Armand has gone with the rest,” said Roger, “but you are right-we have no time to waste. Follow me.”

Geoffrey, Melisende, and Akira fell in behind Roger, who led them around the edge of the garden to a tree next to the wall. He scaled it quickly and prepared to drop over the other side.

“Here! Wait a minute,” squeaked the butcher. “Akira can’t get up that!”

While Geoffrey pushed from underneath and Roger heaved from above, Akira disappeared over the wall in a cacophony of curses and groans. Melisende was up the tree like a monkey, hauling up her skirts to reveal strong, white legs. Geoffrey followed them over and saw he was in the street next to the one where Akira had his shop.