Page 40 of Lion and the Lamb: Easter

Dark shadows loomed over her as she moved forward, and she thought she heard muffled voices and then the sound of sliding stone coming from the sacristy.

“Hello?” she called out, curious, heading to the little room on the side of the altar. “Is someone there?”

She swore she saw a shadow pass by her in the dark, and she jumped and turned around, holding her hand to her rapidly beating heart. “Who is it?” she called out, but no one answered.

Rachael was about to turn around and head back when she noticed the door ajar to the room that held the vessels and vestments used by the priest. Since it was dark, she was able to see a small glimmer of light from inside. She slowly walked over and quietly opened the door. There seemed to be a hidden room behind the cupboard. She ventured in, pushing the cupboard aside, peeking around to see a hidden passageway. She gasped. Someone had gone through here. She could see a scant glow of light fading away from the other end of the dark tunnel. Mayhap it was Winifred, and perhaps she was in trouble. Rachael decided she couldn’t just sit around and wait for Lionel to return. By then, it might be too late.

Turning on her heel she ran back to the vigil lights, picking up one of the lit candles, and then heading back to the entrance of the tunnel. Holding the light in front of her, she ducked and walked into the earthen passageway to see where it led.

“I hope I don’t regret this,” she whispered to herself, going further and further into the underground chamber. She saw several passageways leading in different directions, but decided to take the one that led straight.

It smelled earthy and musty in there, and roots and vines hung down through the ceiling and clung to the walls. Under her feet she noticed ruts, as if two wheels of a cart had been carrying something heavy. The sound of water dripping above her head caused her to look up, getting hit in the eye by a drop. She wiped it out and continued forward.

Her body shivered from the cold of the underground area, and she started having doubts about being here at all. But when she heard laughing and talking and music coming from up ahead, she continued forward, finding a wooden door that led to where she heard the sounds.

It was low, and she had to bend over to open it. When she slid it open, she found herself looking at the back of the drink board in what she believed was a tavern. She snuck through and stood up, coming face to face with Lionel, standing at the drink board, downing a tankard of whisky.

“Lionel?” she gasped.

“Rachael?” He almost dropped the tankard. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Why are you drinking instead of looking for Winifred?” she asked.

“What are you doing behind that drink board?” he rallied.

“Ye! Ye don’t belong there,” yelled the proprietor, rushing over, reaching out for Rachael.

“Don’t touch my wife or I swear I’ll have your head,” Lionel told the man.

Before Rachael knew what happened, Lionel was leaning over the drink board, holding his dagger to the man’s throat.

The man slowly lifted his hands in surrender. “All right. She can stay there, I don’t care.”

“Rachael, how did you get there?” asked Lionel.

“I found a secret room in the church that led to a tunnel. I followed it and ended up here,” she explained.

“So that’s how they are doing it!” Lionel pushed the blade closer to the man’s neck. “Are you one of the smugglers who has been stealing my shipments from the docks?”

“Nay, my lord, I swear I’m not. Please don’t hurt me,” begged the man. “I don’t know nothin’ about stealin’ yer goods.”

“I suppose you’re going to deny knowing about the tunnels, too?” asked Lionel.

“I know about them, but they haven’t been used in years, to my knowledge. Please don’t hurt me, my lord. I have a wife and a new baby at home.” The man shook under Lionel’s hold.

“Lionel, please let him go,” begged Rachael. “I think he is telling the truth.”

“Umph,” growled Lionel, letting go of the man and pulling the blade away from his neck. “What do you know about my daughter, Winifred?” asked Lionel.

“Yer daughter?” The man looked confused.

“Have you seen her in here?”

“Women don’t usually come in here, except for the whores.”

“My daughter is not a whore.” Lionel gripped the front of the man’s tunic tightly.

“Please, Lionel,” said Rachael, once again getting her husband to release the man. “Sir, has there been a young lad named Fred in here along with another called Gilly?”