The Doomsday Code

CHAPTER 67

1194, Nottingham Castle, Nottingham

The first thing Liam registered as he and Bob stepped through the velvet drapes into the keep’s main hall was Becks. She was standing by the arch that led out on to a wooden balcony, poised in a ridiculously-not-her demure and ladylike pose, long embroidered linens and lace fluttering glamorously from her in the breeze.

‘Salutations, Liam. J’espere que vous allez bien?’

Liam bit his lip, resisting an inappropriate urge to giggle. Instead he tipped a polite nod at her. ‘Greetings, Lady Rebecca.’

She switched to English. ‘Greetings to you also.’

John stepped into view from the balcony. He smiled, genuinely pleased to see Liam. ‘Ahhh! My sheriff! ’Tis the man of the hour!’ He stepped forward to greet him. ‘I am indebted to you. I truly am! I arrived here earlier today to, would you believe, to cheers — actually, cheers from the peasants!’

Liam bowed. ‘They are loyal to you, Sire.’

‘Indeed, but I suspect it has been your common touch as sheriff that has earned me their affection, hmmm?’ John’s face adopted a mock-serious expression. His thick brows knotted. ‘I noticed your rather flamboyant entry to the marketplace just now. Congratulations for making your way through Richard’s lines outside … but, I must ask, is it customary now to hurl handfuls of royal revenue at the people to gain entry?’

‘Ahh, yes, that … Well, err … I — we, umm — ’

John’s frown faded and he waved the question away. ‘It matters not to me any more. Now he is back home, it is Richard’s money you were throwing anyway. Not mine.’ He stepped closer to Liam. He could see there was something far more pressing on John’s mind than mere coin. ‘Now … Please, please, you must tell me,’ he said more quietly. ‘I … I need to know — ’

Liam quickly nodded, saving the man any more anguish. ‘“Yes” is the answer, Sire. I have it. We have the Grail.’

John sagged with relief, his breath puffing out in a barely suppressed gasp. ‘Oh, thank the Lord! Thank the Lord!’ He settled down heavily into a wooden chair, robbed of the strength to remain standing. ‘I cannot tell you how … how vexed — how … how so very worried I have been!’

Becks stepped into the room and stood beside him. Liam noticed the graceful way she moved and the way she gently caressed his brow. No longer the swagger of a tomboy, no longer another Bob in a girl-suit. She was all grace and elegance.

Now that’s very weird so it is.

He smiled, proud of what she seemed to have learned over the last few months, her ability to adapt so convincingly. Not so long ago she’d barely managed to pass herself off as an American high-school student. Now here she was, quite believable as a medieval lady of noble blood.

‘Calm yourself, my lord,’ she cooed softly. ‘Did I not say my friend Liam would retrieve it for you?’

John nodded and smiled. ‘Yes, my dear … yes, so you did. I should never have doubted you.’

‘Bob helped, of course,’ said Liam, shrugging. ‘Actually he did most of the hard work.’

Bob emerged from behind the drapes and nodded politely at John and Becks.

‘Good God!’ said John, his eyes suddenly as round as pickled eggs. ‘This man needs a physician!’

Bob looked down at the ragged, shredded stump of his left arm, dangling shreds of tattered skin and the rounded white nub of a bone. ‘The wound is no longer bleeding. It is not life threatening.’

‘Your arm is GONE, man! You should be attended to immediately!’ gasped John. He got up from his chair and led Bob back towards the drapes. He called out for one of the guards standing outside to take Bob to the garrison’s apothecary. ‘And be double quick about it, fool! The man needs it bound!’

He returned, pale-faced and shuddering. ‘Ughh! I … have a poor stomach for such things.’ He puffed his cheeks queasily. ‘Oh, quite horrible … All that … gristle and — and …’ He reached for a cup of wine and drained it, then wiped his mouth. ‘Now, to matters of importance.’ He pointed to the balcony. ‘I should waste not another moment. We must surrender the town immediately!’

‘What?’

John nodded his head vigorously. ‘Indeed, yes! I have what he wants!’ John looked at Liam. ‘Where is it, by the way?’

Liam nodded down at the box in his arms. ‘Right here.’

John glanced down at it. ‘And it is safe? Complete? Undamaged?’ He had little interest in opening the box and inspecting the parchment itself. Holy relics and Templar superstitions were his brother’s obsession, not his.

‘It is fine.’

‘Good. Then there’s no need for this battle to take place. No need for bloodshed today. I shall arrange a parlay with him at once!’

Becks leaned down, speaking in soft soothing tones to him and gently stroking his forehead. ‘That is a bad idea. The Grail is all that you have to bargain with. You must hold on to it. Tu dois es courageaux et fort, mon cher.’

Liam was again impressed with how much her AI had picked up, how convincing she sounded and looked.

‘I am tired, my dear lady,’ muttered John, closing his eyes. ‘Tired of fearing him. Fearing his return … I want this to be over with, so I can rest — ’

‘And it will be. Soon,’ she cooed, ‘soon. But you must be strong. Be strong for me.’

He opened his eyes. ‘For you?’

She nodded. ‘You must be strong and make your brother wait.’ Becks glanced towards the archway and balcony. From afar the sound of carpenters at work echoed across the walls of Nottingham. ‘Let him build his siege weapons, let him waste time and then you should parlay.’

John closed his eyes as she caressed his forehead.

‘You should rest, my lord, there’s time for that and you have slept little.’

John nodded. ‘I am so very tired.’

Becks glanced up at Liam. ‘Rest now, my dear. Take some more wine. And I shall go and arrange supper for you and the sheriff.’

She stood up and discreetly beckoned Liam to follow her out of the hall.