The Doomsday Code

Liam watched them, cowering behind the crenellations as arrows flickered over the wall, occasionally sticking their heads out to return the odd shot. Bob was right. It appeared Richard had not bothered with taking more time to build siege towers. He’d efficiently evaluated the city’s wall and decided the obvious weak section was his way in. Half a dozen trebuchets working over that part of the wall was all that was needed. The fight wasn’t going to focus around the gatehouse, nor be for control of the wall tops. The fight was going to be concentrated around the breach, just as soon as the masonry had finished tumbling down and the dust settled.

Liam looked at the wall section at the same moment that voices from the gatehouse called out another warning. Several boulders arced languidly over the top, their shadows racing across the cobbles and dirt of the market square as they came to earth much closer, and thudded with impacts that shook the ground again beneath Liam’s feet.

But one shot landed on target. He heard the deep crash and boom of the projectile rock against masonry, and saw a spider’s web of cracks suddenly appear on their side of the wall. Dirt, dust and shards of dislodged flint and rock cascaded down in a clattering shower on to the market stalls standing near the base of the wall.

Liam turned to Bob. ‘We’re going to need everyone right here, aren’t we?’

Bob nodded. ‘Correct.’

Liam nodded, spat grit from his mouth. He really could have done with John being out here; for him to be seen by his people standing shoulder to shoulder with them, with his appointed sheriff. Instead of cowering in the keep.

Time to lead, Liam. Come on, Mr O’Connor … we’ve been here before.

True, but it was just a class of kids last time. Not a whole bloody city.

Come on, they’re all looking at you! Waiting for you. Do something!

He cupped his mouth and waited for a lull in the noise: the distant sound of Richard’s men chanting taunts, the frightened mewling of womenfolk and children; the braying of donkeys, the squeal of a pig nearby, dragging itself in panicked circles, both back legs and rear end crushed to a bloody, bone-splintered pulp by the fallen masonry of the wall.

‘ALL MEN-AT-ARMS TO ASSEMBLE HERE!’ he bellowed at the soldiers standing nearby, and those men up on the wall achieving nothing useful. He then turned to the townsfolk. He guessed there had to be over a thousand of them huddled in the open ground of the market square and clogging the narrow streets that led on to it.

‘EVERY MAN WHO CAN FIGHT … TO ASSEMBLE HERE!’ He gestured at the already cracked wall, through a slowly clearing pall of dust. ‘THIS IS WHERE THEY WILL COME THROUGH! WE WILL HOLD THEM HERE!’

For a moment he wondered if they’d heard him. For an absurd moment he thought everyone was going to laugh at him — Look at the boy playing at being a general.

But voices carried his command onwards across the market square and through the crowd, along the wall, one soldier to the next. He saw a flurry of movement, the backs of men, young and old, turning for their shanty homes to retrieve old weapons and farming tools.

Liam let out a gasp of relief, hiding it behind one gauntlet-covered hand. He hoped that to anyone watching him it looked like a casual yawn.

‘That sound all right?’ he uttered out of the side of his mouth.

Bob nodded, a dark brow lifted and the corner of his horse-lips stretched with a hint of pride. ‘Affirmative.’

CHAPTER 76

2001, New York

They studied the rectangle of yellow parchment cut out from the Treyarch Confession. Adam held it up carefully by two corners and looked at them through the patchwork of little square windows he’d cut out of it.

‘It’s so very fragile,’ he said, ‘I’m scared of tearing the thing.’

‘Let’s get the Grail out,’ said Maddy. She reached for the Treyarch, now missing a rectangle four feet long by eighteen inches wide, and hurriedly wound it round its wooden spindle. Rolled up, she casually tossed it on to one of the armchairs and reached for the wooden box.

Cabot rested a hand on its lid. His eyes locked on Maddy’s. ‘Ye understand what lies within?’

She nodded impatiently.

He glanced at the Treyarch tossed on the chair, already forgotten. ‘I trust ye will treat what lies within this box with more respect than ye did the Confession.’ His hand remained firmly on the lid. ‘In here are precious words many men have died for … and killed for.’

‘The Holy Grail, right.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Ye say that, young girl, like a … like ’tis just a flavour of preserve.’ He looked down at the box. ‘If ’tis what King Richard believes it to be, if it be what the Templars believe it to be, then this contains the hidden words of God. Ye understand this?’

Maddy pursed her lips and sighed. ‘Yes … yes, of course, I’ll be very careful with it. OK?’

Cabot shook his head with frustration. ‘’Tis not the scroll — the parchment and ink — I am talking about. That is merely the work of a man with a quill.’ He glanced at the parchment grille Adam was holding up carefully. ‘If that really be the key … By laying that atop the Grail and looking through the holes, we are looking upon the true Word of God. Is it truly for us to see?’

Maddy’s first instinct was to brush the old fool aside. She didn’t have the patience for this kind of superstitious nonsense. She didn’t believe in some fluffy-haired Father Christmas-like guy sitting up on some heavenly throne and handing down sound-bites of wisdom once every few millennia. She was about to dismiss his medieval superstition with a sarcastic comment, but then a solitary word pushed itself to the forefront of her mind and silenced her.

Pandora.

Her eyes dropped down to the box.

What’s in there — the message hiding inside — includes the word Pandora.

There was no knowing what was about to be revealed. She looked around at Adam, Sal, Becks, Cabot … and wondered if this really should be for all of their eyes.

For your eyes only, Maddy.

‘Uhh … yes, Cabot … Perhaps you’re right.’ She looked at Sal, then Adam. ‘I’m sorry, guys, this is something that I have to do alone.’

‘Why?’ asked Sal. She sounded hurt. In truth she probably was. After all, Sal, Liam and herself were supposed to be a team: a shared bond, a shared trust in each other. Shared secrets.

But not this one. Not yet.

‘Sal, I–I don’t know why. Not yet. I just know somebody, somewhere, in some time, has tried to warn me about something, with the word Pandora. That’s all I’ve got. That’s all I know. If this is the answer,’ she said, nodding at the box, ‘then I have to find out what this is first. Then we’ll talk.’ She looked at Adam. ‘And I’m sorry, Adam … this is meant for Sal, me and Liam, when we get him back. Team first — that’s how it works.’

‘What? You can’t cut me out now. I mean, I’ve been helping you. Maddy? I worked out — ’

Becks stepped forward. ‘Team strategist Madelaine Carter has authority on this matter,’ she said in a firm voice that hushed Adam. He’d nearly lost a finger in the casual twist of her hand once before. He didn’t look like he was ready to try his luck again now.

‘Sure, all right …’ he said, ‘if that’s how you want this to go.’

‘Sorry, Adam,’ said Maddy. ‘Let me do what needs to be done first … and maybe there’ll be more I can tell you in a little while. OK?’

He nodded, putting the grille down gently on to the table.

Maddy turned to Cabot. ‘I may not share your faith, I’m sorry about that, but whatever truth is in here, I believe, is profoundly important. It’s the Holy Grail, I know. I’ll treat it with respect. I promise you that.’

He lifted his hand slowly. ‘You may regret the truth you are about to discover.’