The Emerald Key - By Christopher Dinsdale Page 0,6
out the face of a woman. She was pressing a wet rag to his forehead. He was surprised to find himself lying on a straw mattress inside a hut. The woman was joined by a man and two children. The vague memory of a fight slowly materialized within the fog of his spinning thoughts.
“What happened?” Jamie asked the farmer, who was sporting a swollen welt above his eye.
“There was a fight and you were in the middle of it.”
Jamie looked to the children. “Is your family all right?”
The farmer managed a smile. “Aye, for now anyway. I’ve got a bump the size of a Blarney Stone on my head. I’m more worried about you. You took an awful beating. I’m Stuart, and this is my wife, Shannon. Thank you for trying to help us with the soldiers, but I’m afraid, in the end, it didn’t do anyone any good.”
“They took your ox?” asked Jamie, trying to recall the scene.
“That they did,” he said, squeezing his wife’s hand. “Now we’re as good as dead. With the potatoes again rotting in the ground before harvest and the loss of our ox, we’ll never be able both to feed ourselves and to pay the landlord his due.”
Jamie struggled to a sitting position. He glanced around the hut. “Where’s Ryan?”
Stuart and Shannon looked at each other, unsure of what to say to the young man. Jamie caught the glance and his heart stopped.
“What is it? What happened to my brother?”
Stuart nodded towards the village. “The redcoats took him, they did. Said they were going to throw him on the first boat heading to Canada. They mentioned the name Carpathia.”
“What!” Jamie tried to stand, but the room spun and his legs gave out. Stuart caught him and helped him sit back down on the bed.
“Easy, lad. Your head took quite a beating.”
“Ryan’s on a ship heading to Canada?” Jamie repeated.
Jamie tried to picture all of the implications. His thoughts fought through the fog of his injury.
“Perhaps I can catch the ship before it leaves port! I can still stop this!”
Stuart shook his head. “Son, you’ve been lying here all night. It’s morning now. According to what the soldiers told us, his ship left Cork yesterday evening. By now, it’s out on the high seas.”
“You’re badly hurt,” added Shannon. “Although we don’t have a great deal to offer you, you can stay with us for as long as you need, until you’re feeling better.”
Jamie again tried to stagger to his feet, and this time he managed to stay upright. He felt as if he was going to be sick and fought the urge to sit back down.
“Thank you for your kind offer,” groaned Jamie, grimacing as he took hold of Stuart’s shoulder for balance. “And I do need your assistance. Please, help me get to the cathedral in Cork.”
Stuart frowned. “I can help take you into town if you like. Are you sure you are up to the task? It’s still a good hour walk from here.”
“Please, you have no idea the importance of my task. I need to get to the cathedral as soon as possible.”
Stuart nodded to his wife.
“I’ll drop off the lad. I should be back before sunset.”
Shannon grabbed a walking stick that was leaning against the wall and passed it to Jamie.
“Use this in case you feel dizzy again.”
Stuart steadied him on the other side.
“And lean on me as much as you like until you get your legs back.”
As they headed for the door, Shannon ran ahead and grabbed a water skin. She passed it to Jamie.
“Drink as much water as you can. It will help clear your head.”
“Bless you,” whispered Jamie through the spinning pain, and the men left the humble abode.
“This is a disaster beyond imagination!”
Cardinal Shulls sat at the head of the table and eyed the other participants with a mixture of fury and alarm. The meeting had been convened deep within the secret catacombs that crisscrossed beneath the sanctuary of Cork Cathedral. The aging cardinal was surrounded by seven other grey-haired priests. Together, the eight men comprised the highest order of the Irish Brotherhood. First assembled by Father Francis of Athy over a thousand years before, the Brotherhood was the trusted guardian of ancient Irish knowledge.
Jamie sat at the far corner of the table. He could feel the thick tension in the air. He and his brother had recently been made privy to the knowledge that a fabulous sacred treasure lay buried somewhere deep in the Irish countryside.