Виктория Холт: Curse of the Kings

I could see the old church now with the tower and the gravestones tottering over some of them. "You can't read what's on them." That sounded like Alison's voice. "I think that they should be removed . . . but you can't disturb the dead . . ."

"You can't disturb the dead. You can't disturb the dead." It was as though a thousand voices were chanting that. And there was the boat all round me and the sea was boiling like the water in the big black saucepan that used to be on the kitchen fire at the rectory when Dorcas or Alison was making Irish stew or boiling the Christmas puddings.

This was delirium. I was aware of it, but I welcomed it. It took me away from this dark and fearsome place. It took me back to the schoolroom where I teased the others; it took me to the graveyard where old Pegger was digging a grave.

"And who's that for, Mr. Pegger?"

"It be for you, Miss Judith. You was always a meddler and now look where it 'as brought you ... to the grave ... to the tomb . . ."

There were the echoing voices again. "To the tomb," and I was back in this cold place of death and terror.

"Oh God, help me. Let Tybalt find me. Let him love me. Let it have been a mistake. . . ."

"There's a wedding at the church," said Dorcas. "You must come with us, Judith. Here is a handful of rice. Be careful how you throw it."

And there they were coming down the aisle, married by the Reverend James Osmond. Tybalt and Tabitha . . .

"No!" I cried; and I was back again in the tomb.

My limbs were stiff. I tried to get up. I would try to get out.

As I stood I kicked something. It was the matchbox which I had dropped. I stopped to pick it up; as I did so the wall seemed to move.

I'm imagining something; I told myself. I'm delirious. In a moment I shall be opening the door of my bedroom at the rectory.

The door did open. I fell against it. I was in a dark passage, facing another door.

Some impulse made me bang on this door.

The small hope which had come to me brought back with it panic because I realized full well what was happening to me then in a flash of clarity. I was trapped. I had been led here and the purpose could only be to kill me. I was losing my strength. The lantern would not remain alight forever. And I could not get out.

I kicked the door. I tried to open it. But it did not move.

I sank down beside it. But at least the door which led to the chamber was open and might that let in more air?

I stumbled along the passage. It was short and came to an abrupt end. It was nothing that I had discovered; only another blind alley. I went back and kicked at the door in fury. And then I sank down and covered my face with my hands.

There was nothing I could do ... nothing but wait for death.

I lost consciousness. I was sitting in the half open doorway and in the chamber beyond the great bat was waiting.

How long? I wondered.

The light of the lantern was growing fainter. It would go out at any moment.

When the darkness came what should I do?

I would be frightened perhaps because then I should not be able to see anything at all, not even the eyes of the bat in the ceiling.

In sudden panic I rose again. I stumbled to that door. I cried: "Help me. Help me. God, Allah, Osiris . . . anyone . . . help me."

I was half sobbing, half laughing and I kicked and kicked with all the strength of which I was capable.

And then . . . the miracle happened. There was an answer.

Knock, knock, on the other side of that blessed door.

With all my strength I knocked back.

There was the answering knock. Now I could hear noises beyond that wall. Someone knew I was here. Someone was coming to me.

I sank back. While I could hear that blessed noise I knew they were coming. It increased. The door trembled. I sat back watching it, the tears falling down my cheeks, the babble of words on my lips.

"Tybalt is coming. He has found me. I shall be free . . ."

I was happy. Had I ever known such exaltation? Only when one is about to lose it does one realize how sweet life is.

The lantern was flickering. Never mind. They are coming. The door is moving.

Soon now.

Then I was no longer alone. I was caught up.

"Judith . . ."

It was Tybalt, as I had known it would be. He was holding me in his arms and I thought: I did not die of fear, but I shall die of bliss.

"My love," he said. "Judith, my love."

"It's all right, Tybalt," I said, comforting him. "It's all right . . '. now . . ."

During the days that followed I lived in a kind of daze.

There were times when I was not sure where I was and then Tybalt would be beside me, always Tybalt, holding me in his arms, reassuring me.

I had suffered a severe shock; and I was constantly told that everything was all right. All I had to do was remember that. And Tybalt was with me. He had come to me and rescued me; and that was all I must think of as yet.

"It is enough," I said.

I would lie still clinging to his hand; but when I dozed I would often awaken shouting that the black bat was in the ceiling and that his eyes were glittering. I would find myself crying: "Help. Help. God . . . Allah . . . Tybalt . . . help me."

It had been a terrible ordeal. There could be few who had been buried in one of the tombs of the Pharaohs and come out alive.

Who had done this to me? That was what I wanted to know. Where was Leopold Harding? And why had he taken me down into that underground vault and left me there?

Tybalt said: "We shall know in time. He has disappeared. But we shall find him."

"Why did he do it, Tybalt? Why? He said he was taking me to you. He said you had asked for me to come."

"I don't know. It is a mystery to us all. We are trying to find him. But he has disappeared. All you need think about now is that you are safe and I shall never allow you to be lost again."

"Oh, Tybalt," I said, "that makes me happy."

Tabitha was by my bed.

"I want to tell you something, Judith," she said. "You've been talking a great deal. We were shocked to know what was in your mind, how you could have believed such things possible. Tybalt knows I'm talking to you. We think it best so that you should understand right away. You thought that Tybalt and I were lovers. My dear Judith, how could you? I love Tybalt, yes ... I always have ... as I would love a son if I had one. I came to the household, as you know, when my husband was put into a home. Sir Edward's wife was alive then, but ill. Oh, I know it was wrong but Sir Edward and I loved each other. Nanny Tester knew it and spied on us. She was devoted to Sir Edward's wife and she hated me. She hated Sir Edward too. When Lady Travers died she blamed me. She all but suggested that I had murdered her. Sir Edward and I were lovers. As you know I accompanied him on some of his expeditions. We would have married had I been free. But I was not . . . until it was too late . . ."

"I understand now," I said.

"My dearest Judith. You were always so in love with Tybalt. He realizes how lucky he is. You never did things by halves as your aunts used to say. So you had to love Tybalt with that fierce possessiveness. Such determination as yours had to have its effect. Even Tybalt was vulnerable. He confided to me long before he asked you that he wanted to marry you . . . that was when you were Lady Bodrean's companion . . . and I must admit you didn't fit into the role very comfortably. There was nothing meek about you, which is a quality one always associates with companions."

"I can see," I said, "that my wild and foolish imagination built up the situation."

"It was not a real one. It did not exist outside your imagination, remember that. I've something else to tell you too. Terence Gelding has asked me to marry him."