An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,97
grinned. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
He snatched up one of the torches hanging on the wall and led Pearce down the rough-hewn passage that sloped away from the other chambers. Soon, they were surrounded by musty darkness, with water droplets falling down the narrowing walls, and the distant music from above was drowned out by the sound of running water.
They reached the end of the passageway and found a small wooden door that opened easily with a push. The two men stepped through onto a wide stone ledge above a narrow but fast-running underground river. Discarded pagan decorations from the chambers above lay on the ledge, including a large stone Egyptian sarcophagus.
Pearce glanced around, taking in the roof that must have dated from the 1400s, based on the uneven size of the bricks and the slapdash use of heavy mortar. Stinking black water spilled past, just below his boots. Everything was covered with a thin layer of mildew and slime.
“The old lost Walbrook,” Howard told him, gesturing toward the river. “The club’s chambers used to be part of an old Roman bastion in the city wall. The story is that diggers found the ruins when they attempted to expand the crypt of All Souls-on-the-Wall about thirty years ago. The church was closed before work on the new crypt could begin, but the workers had already opened up the Roman ruins and dug this tunnel, thinking they could undermine the old wall, only to run smack into the river. We don’t use this part of the complex.”
“Because of the stench?”
“Because of the rats.” On that self-reminder, he waved the torchlight around at their feet. “But we occasionally use the sarcophagus for parties. The lid comes off. Makes for a fine tantalus in a pinch.”
Howard guided him back out of the tunnel, carefully closing the wooden door against the stench—and the rats.
With each step back toward the chambers, Pearce became more convinced that while the Hellfire club had ties to Scepter, it wasn’t part of the organization itself. No one present tonight seemed to take the club seriously enough, and too much debauchery was going on for a criminal group that existed under a veil of secrecy. Too much opportunity to be blackmailed for illicit behavior.
But he would take any opportunity that presented itself to get closer to Scepter’s leaders. Including being here.
When they arrived back at the club’s chambers, more men in white robes had arrived, and the smoke was even thicker.
Howard led him to the last room. “Welcome to the Inner Temple.”
Pearce gazed at the large, natural cavern around them. Lanterns blazed brightly to reveal more pagan scenes decorating the walls and floor. A raised dais sat at the far end, holding up a Greek altar stone and behind it a wooden throne.
“What do you think of our little club, Sandhurst?” Howard proudly slapped him on the back. “A bit theatrical, I’ll grant you, but it’s all in good fun.”
One of the nuns picked that moment to let out a high-pitched scream. Howard ignored it.
“The only rule involves secrecy. No one is allowed to divulge to the outside world what goes on here or who makes up the membership.”
Madame Noir’s words came back to Pearce, about how Howard liked to share too much. “And the punishment if he does?”
His grin faded. “The end.”
“Of his membership?”
“Of him.” The hard look Howard shot him proved how serious he was. “The brothers voted to allow you the privilege of a visit tonight, which means they trust you to keep our confidence about what you witness here, just as we’ll keep our confidences about whatever pleasures you decide to take.”
Pearce didn’t believe that for a second.
“But don’t cross us,” Howard warned. “You’ll regret it.”
One of the hooded monks stepped onto the dais, lifted a large ox horn to his mouth, and blew. The horn blast carried through the subterranean complex and echoed off the walls. Pearce felt the rising tension of excitement as the music and laughter stopped and all conversation ceased. The men filed into the Inner Temple, flipping up their hoods as they entered and pulling them down over their faces. With a nudge from Howard, Pearce did the same, and soon they were indistinguishable from the crowd.
A man wearing a red robe, his hood drawn low, entered the cavern. The crowd parted to clear a path for him, and with his hands pressed together in a symbol of prayer, he went forward to the dais.