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Fisk nodded at Ivan, who got up, then took a knife and cut the zip tie binding Nigel to the chair. Nigel rubbed at his wrists, watching as Ivan returned to the bed.
“The notebook,” Fisk said to Alexandra.
“Ivan has it.”
He held out his hand, and Ivan tossed it to him. “If you can see it in yourself to forgive my associates for their rough handling, then maybe we can come to some sort of agreement.”
“About what?”
“As I said, a simple translation. There’s a phrase in your notebook you haven’t translated. The person my associates showed it to this afternoon also had difficulty with it. Funny thing, he recommended you as the person to contact.”
“That’s what you were talking to William about at Castle Rising?”
“You know him. A small world in tourism and academia, I see.” He held the notebook out for Nigel, pointing to the words on the last page. Nigel leaned toward it. “Can’t tell.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe there are letters missing. Or it’s completely misspelled. But those aren’t words that I can make out. Except the one. Hole.”
Only then did Fisk realize there were, in fact, letters missing. He’d assumed the list they’d stolen from Nigel was the same as his. Deciphered words taken straight from the map. Then again, he hadn’t looked that close at what was written in Nigel’s notebook. He’d assumed that the Fargos had somehow managed to get a copy of the cipher wheel—and the words were the same as what he had. How else to explain how the Fargos had made their way this far?
Interesting. The Fargos were working from a flawed copy. He, however, was not, and he took out his phone and found the text from the expert that Charles Avery was using to decipher the map.
There was clearly a letter missing from the words, and he showed the corrected text to Nigel. “What about this?”
“You realize I’m not the only Old English expert in this country?”
“At the moment, you happen to be the most convenient. And the most expendable. So look closely before I decide to find your replacement.”
The man studied the text, then gave an exasperated sigh. “I’d say someone mistook an f for an s. It’s not wulshol. It’s wulfhol. As in wolf’s hole.”
“And the other?” he said, pointing to the word listed beneath it: wulsesheasod
“It should read wulfeshéafod, as in wolf’s head.”
“And what do you think they mean?”
“The den and head of a wolf, if I had to guess.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m not sure. You’d have to ask the person who wrote it.”
“That person’s dead. Which is what you’ll be if you—”
Alexandra stood. “You have what you need. We, however, haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
How was it he’d thought bringing her along was going to help him? “Tie him up. We don’t want him running off.”
“Wait,” Nigel said, trying to stand. Ivan and Jak were off the bed in an instant, pushing him back into the chair. Nigel struggled in vain as Jak held him, and Ivan tightened a new zip tie around his wrists. “You can’t keep me here.”
“As long as you cooperate, you stay alive. Which means you’re still needed.” He looked at Ivan. “Do not leave him unattended if you go out. There’s a per
fectly good pub across the street. Bring something back.”
“And where are you going?” Alexandra asked.
“Picking up two more men to help. The Fargos are more of a problem than we’d anticipated. After that, back to my hotel. Your husband’s waiting for an update on the translation. I expect it’ll lead us to our next location, where our tour guide will be of use. Of course, you could call Charles.”
