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
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.
CHAPTER 68
1194, Nottingham Castle, Nottingham
‘Jay-zus, Becks!’ whispered Liam. ‘You were completely convincing back there. Does John … is he in
She shrugged. ‘He has developed an infatuation for me. I have attempted to analyse why this is so and have no valid conclusions to make. He has said he finds “
She hushed as a castle servant passed them in the small dark hallway. She beckoned Liam to follow her until she found a low wooden door on their left and stepped inside. They were in a small pantry; it was empty, save for several shelves laden with clay pots of preserves.
Liam reached out and grabbed her arms. ‘It’s good to see you again, Becks! Me and Bob were becoming worried about you, so we were.’
‘I have been in no danger,’ she replied calmly, with a hint of a smile for him. But then it was gone. More pressing matters to attend to. ‘John does not have the will or the courage to stand up to Richard. But my history database shows this siege
‘That needs to happen, then, right? To ensure history is back to where it was?’
She nodded.
‘What about the Grail?’ said Liam. ‘Richard isn’t meant to get his hands on it, is he?’
‘There is no information on that in my files. This would indicate — ’
‘That the Grail vanished. Ended up getting lost.’
‘Affirmative.’ She cocked her head, considering a suggestion. ‘We could destroy it.’
Liam shook his head. ‘No — no, I think there’s much more than we thought in there. Not just this word
‘Prophecy?’
Liam told her everything he could remember Locke telling him. He told her about the robot he came back with, about the Templars who’d sent him. He talked uninterrupted for what seemed like ages. Finally, describing Bob chasing Locke off into the woods and retrieving the box. She now knew everything he did.
‘Then there may be strategically important information we can retrieve by decoding this document,’ she said calmly, gazing at the wooden box in Liam’s hands.
‘Exactly … and the only way to do it is using this grille thing out there, in King Richard’s possession.’
She shook her head.
‘What?’
‘I believe there is another factor involved.’
Liam frowned. This was already confusing enough for him. ‘What are you talking about?’
She reached under the layers of her gown, fumbling awkwardly for a few moments before pulling out a scroll of parchment. It was flattened and creased. He didn’t dare ask where that had been wedged.
‘This is a document known as the Treyarch Confession,’ she said. ‘This is an account of the discovery of a scroll dating back to — ’
‘Bible times?’ cut in Liam. He remembered Cabot’s description of it months ago.
‘Affirmative.’
‘Where did you get it?’
‘That is irrelevant information. I have scanned the text of this and analysed the content.’
‘And?’
‘I calculate a fifty-seven per cent probability that the Treyarch Confession is the
‘What?’ He looked at the creased and tattered parchment in her hands. ‘
‘Fifty-seven per cent probability that it is. Correct.’
‘So what’s King Richard got then?’
‘A piece of worn leather with holes cut into it.’
‘Why? What makes you think that this is the real thing?’
She carefully unrolled the parchment until finally it was spread almost two yards along the stone floor. She pointed to illustrations in the margins on both sides of the text. ‘These decorative illustrations are common for the time. Typically they mirror the theme or message of the text. Observe,’ she said, moving her finger down one margin. ‘These illustrations are just simple geometric patterns. They have no discernible symbolism or meaning.’
‘They’re there just to make it look nice?’
‘Correct.’
Liam noted the patterns were intermittent; a dense and intricate block of cross-hatching and swirls about two inches high and wide, located every ten or eleven inches down the margin on either side.
‘The patterns are identical,’ Becks said. Liam looked more closely. Yes, they were. Line for line, curl for curl — the same ornate pattern.
Becks’s finger moved down the scroll and finally stopped. ‘Except these four.’ She pointed them out, two on each side. Liam struggled to see the difference by the guttering candlelight. His eyes strained as he studied them, again comparing lines and curves.
