For a moment she thought he was being sarcastic. Men often were when she started talking about the real strength of women, but Lucas looked serious, his amber eyes studying hers.
“Go on,” he urged.
“There are also rumors and speculation,” she said, “that a vault that cannot be accessed lies beneath the chapel…that it contains everything from Solomon’s treasure to a manuscript written by Jesus himself. And what it has to say may not be in keeping with Christianity as we know it.”
Lucas smiled. “I think you’ve been reading too many recent bestsellers.”
“Maybe. I said it was speculation. I’m sure it’s good for tourism, at any rate.” She let her eyes slide to the envelope. “But there is another rumor about the Holy Grail being embedded in the Apprentice Pillar.”
“I wish it were so simple,” Lucas answered with a sigh. “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about the wrong people getting hold of it. William didn’t complete the chapel. His son, Oliver, did and set sail to Nova Scotia to bring back whatever had been taken there earlier. Perhaps it was the treasure. They wanted the vault to hide something. But the Hallows are no longer there.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Do you know what happened in 1590?”
“That really isn’t my area of expertise…” But thinking further, she said, “Wait. Wasn’t there another witch hunt started? This time in Scotland?”
“Aye, lass. Your knowledge of history is good. There is nothing like mass hysteria to launch a feeding frenzy. Evil reigned. Women were burned because their husbands found themselves impotent. Children were stoned because they might have eyes of different colors. There was no reasoning with the zealous priests who made a mockery of their own church. Anything of real value—like the Hallows—was moved to a place of safety.”
“Nova Scotia?”
“I don’t think so. Or, at least not all of them.” Lucas motioned toward the papers lying on the desk. “It seems they were to be separated, hidden in different parts of the New World. That way, if a Hallow were found, the power would not be compounded four-fold. The document basically rambles on about exploration in the New World. And it ends with the words. “Fait accompli. Whatever it was, the mission had been successful.”
“So does the paper offer any clues?”
“Several, but one important one, from what I can tell.” He reached over to the desk and picked up his notes. “On every page, there is a line that doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of its paragraph. I took those lines out and put them together.” He handed her the paper.
“Where roses climb to heaven,
Lugh’s lance will wait,
Near to the Druid’s tree,
Enter dawn’s gate.”
“Does this mean anything to you?” Sara asked.
“Only that it refers to the Spear, obviously.”
Voices sounded in the hall. Sara jumped up and grabbed the envelope. She stuffed it behind the closest book just as the door opened.
“There you are!” Mr. Smith said cheerfully. “I was wondering where the two of you had gone off to. It’s lunchtime!”
Beside him, Al Caldwell was frowning.
Sara took a step back, away from the bookcase, and ran solidly into Lucas.
“Steady there,” he said as he put a hand on her shoulder to balance her. With his other arm he reached around her to return a book she hadn’t noticed he’d taken. For a moment she was engulfed in his embrace and she breathed in the scent of him. His warm breath teased the nape of her neck as he leaned into her to give the book a push.
“Stubborn book,” he murmured against her ear, whetting her appetite for something other than lunch.
Both Mr. Smith and Mr. Caldwell were openly watching them, the visitor with narrowed eyes. Her boss was smirking.
Sara reluctantly stepped away from Lucas. “Perhaps we can finish this discussion…” She looked wildly at the title of the book,Le Morte D’Arthur,that he had just shelved. Pick a character. Quick!“…about, uh, Lancelot later.”
Lucas’s eyebrow arched. “Lancelot? By all means. I think I may know a few stories you haven’t heard.”
It wasn’t until later that she wondered what he’d meant by that.
