Reaching out, Lia pushed against it, but it did not budge. Then she pulled at it, but could not work it loose. The ground was soft and made entirely of dirt, the air stale and putrid. She worked at it for a while, trying to find a way beyond the barrier.

A sound behind the stone wall startled her. A voice, muffled by the stone, was speaking. Then the stone began to open.

“Sorry it took a while, but I am here. So much commotion upstairs. One of the children had to tell me you arrived. There we are, and you already have a lamp I see and…and who are you?”

As the wall swung open towards her, spilling light and smells, it also revealed the face of a middling man with pasty skin, reddish-brown thinning hair, staring at her in surprise. The smells that struck her were familiar to one who had been raised in the kitchen. Sacks and kegs and milled grain, the sweetly sour smell of a cellar.

“Who are you?” he repeated, looking at her crossly. He had a lamp in his other hand. The doorway beyond opened into a cellar – the cellar of the Pilgrim, if she was guessing right – and there was a boy and a girl, about her own age, staring at her with interest, and another little girl, not older than eight, looking at her with wonder and licking dough off a wooden spoon.

Lia had no idea what to say.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

Valerianum

The older girl leaned and whispered to her brother, “Who is she?”

“I have not seen her. Must be a learner,” came the brother’s reply, and in that moment of questioning, Lia had her answer. If they thought she was a learner, and if she acted like one instead of a wretched, she could fool them into helping her.

Looking at the father – so she presumed – she gave him a snobby look and said, “It would be better if you did not know my name.” The words and disdain were Colvin’s, but they worked. She passed the barrier, brushing against the man who was a little shorter than her, and entered the cellar. The children scrambled backwards to give her room, their eyes shining with curiosity.

She straightened, relieving the ache in her back and shoulders from stooping so far, and then looked down at the Cruciger orb. The spindles pointed to the ladder. Her mind scrambled quickly for words. Whirling, she faced the man as he latched the door and shoved a heavy barrel in front of it.

“Have the sheriff’s men arrived?” she asked with a superior tone.

The boy, who was probably her age, answered first. “During the night. Some just left for the abbey not long ago, but a few are still in the common room.” He looked at her eagerly. “One wears a maston sword, but I do not think he is a maston. I would love to have a maston sword!”

His sister swatted his arm, and the father seemed to gasp like a fish for words.

The older fellow, likely their father, fidgeted. “I was not expecting…the Aldermaston usually sends Jon…it is just that with the sheriff…and they are looking…children, be still! Go to your mother.”

“Father, can I sing for her?” asked the littlest one with the spoon.

“Not now. Please, all of you. Upstairs now. Get your mother.”

The boy looked pained, and he gave Lia a look that nearly exploded with information. The girl and the boy seemed about the same age – perhaps twins? The girl was obedient, but her expression was full of mischief and excitement. She rushed to obey first, taking the younger one by the hand.

The boy lingered at the ladder, obviously struggling with the urge to disobey. Then his expression changed. “I will find out how many are guarding the prisoner!” he gasped and then scooted up the ladder.

“Brant, you will not! Stay in the kitchen. Do you…I mean…” he turned, flustered, back to Lia. “Wait here a moment.”

He hurried up the ladder, said some warning things to the young man, then scampered back down again, his face flushed and sweaty.

“I am sorry…it is just that…well you see…it is awkward. Most of the sheriff’s men are banging on the abbey gates right now, threatening to burst through. What would the Aldermaston…what are his orders?”

It made sense to Lia that any tunnel leaving the abbey grounds would be guarded by someone loyal to the Aldermaston. How many tunnels honeycombed the grounds? She had never imagined it before, and the possibilities spread before her like stars in a dusky sky. Of course the man would think that she was serving the Aldermaston as well, especially since he had seen her holding the orb and had not demanded where she got it.

“Tell me what you know of the situation,” Lia said, wearing her most distrusting look.