Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,103
his heels. The summer nights were short and he had to be back before dawn.
Who would post a guard over some unfinished pavilions on an island?
Once inside the domain at Dampierre, Leprat stayed away from the paths. He entered the woods, tethered the horse to a tree and continued onward by foot. Remaining concealed, he soon found a place where he enjoyed a clear view of the island in the middle of the large pond. As he had expected, he saw men with lanterns guarding the causeway that gave access to the building site from the shore furthest away from the castle.
It would be impossible for him to cross over that way.
Leprat stripped down to his breeches and shirt, and swung his baldric round so that his rapier hung down his back. Then he took careful note of the place where he left his belongings, slid into the cold water and began swimming towards the island and its mysteries.
He had no idea who these men were or what they were doing here. During supper, Mirebeau had also confessed his ignorance, but said they did not belong to the marquis de Chateauneuf. Did they serve madame de Chevreuse, then? Perhaps. Or else some third party.
Leprat swam steadily to conserve his strength and to splash as little as possible. He drew close to the island, regained his footing once more and hurriedly climbed the bank. Then he took up position on a height where, hidden by some thickets, he was able to catch his breath while observing what was going on.
He saw more armed mercenaries guarding the building site itself, which was lit here and there by torches planted in the ground. Five pavilions had started to emerge from the scaffolding and piles of building materials. They surrounded a roof made of wooden planks. Leprat was unable to see what lay concealed beneath it, but there were mounds of earth nearby.
Had the construction project made an unexpected discovery? Or was the building work only a pretext intended to mask other activities? Whatever the case, Leprat intended to get to the bottom of the matter.
He studied the movements of the hired swordsmen before creeping forward. Quickly and silently he entered the site,
liptoed among the shadows and managed to slip beneath the wooden roof without being spotted. It sheltered a pit into which he could descend via a ramp and several ladders. The excavation of this pit had exposed the ancient foundations of a large circular building which immediately called to mind the black tower of the legend. The same black tower whose cursed stones might have inspired the name Dampierre.
The musketeer leapt into the pit and landed nimbly upon a Moor of bare flagstones. There was a gap where some steps descended into the ground. They led to a very old door made of black wood which appeared to have been blocked up long ago and only recently unsealed. Its relatively well-preserved state was, upon reflection, rather astonishing. As was the ease with which it opened to reveal a spiral staircase lit by candles in a succession of niches. Leprat made his way downward with caution, counting seventy-one stone steps which took him to a level beneath the bottom of the pond. After opening another black door, he found himself in a fairly vast but empty chamber, whose vaulted ceiling was supported by rows of round columns. Here, again, a few candles shone in the darkness. The air felt damp and water dripped from the ceiling into age-old puddles.
More and more intrigued, Leprat continued his exploration. There were several doors — low and again black — on either side of the chamber. But the central aisle between the columns, illuminated by the candles set at regular intervals, seemed to indicate a path leading to an archway at the rear over which a last, solitary candle burned.
Rut as he stretched out a hand to draw open the purple curtain concealing the archway, he sensed a sudden movement behind him. He spun round, but only had time to see a scaly tail snaking away into the darkness. A syle. Bad news. Sometimes growing as big as cats, the carnivorous salamanders were both extremely swift and voracious. They became frenzied at the scent of blood and, when gathered in numbers, they were capable of attacking a wounded man and devouring him alive. And where there was one, there were usually others . . .
Pulling himself together, the musketeer lilted the curtain.