Arthur stared after him hoping that he had made the right decision to wait and not go immediately to Cleo’s side. He felt that they both needed time apart to come to terms with what had happened, and it would be time itself that would reveal whether he was right or not. Turning back to his desk, Arthur reread the notes that he had jotted down after talking with Mr. Lyons in London. Mr. Lyons had mentioned a statue of King Arthur in Hofkirche, Innsbruck that had been designed by an Albrecht Dürer and cast by a Peter Vischer the Elder of Nuremberg, sometime during the 1520s.
Clearly neither man is alive tae tell me their statues’ secrets, but perhaps it would behoove me tae take a trip tae Innsbruck to have a look for myself. If I find anything, I can bring word back to Cleo, but if I do not, then she has gotten her hopes up over nothing.
The Hofkirche, otherwise known as the Court Church, was a Gothic church in Innsbruck, Austria. It was located in the older part of town and had been built in 1553 by order of Emperor Ferdinand I. How the statue of King Arthur came to rest there, Arthur knew not, nor was he sure that such a journey would be worthwhile for the purposes of the riddle. The chances of anything being revealed beneath the statue’s feet were quite small, but Arthur was willing to take the risk, if it would help Cleo find the answers that she sought.
I dinnae wish tae leave her unguarded. I would ne’er forgive myself if something happened tae her in my absence.
To go from Oxfordshire, England to Innsbruck, Austria was not an easy or quick trip to accomplish. If he went, he would be gone for several weeks and he was not quite sure that he should leave Cleo behind, but he also was not sure that taking her along was the right choice either. Another possibility that Mr. Lyons had mentioned was the recreation of King Arthur’s round table that hung on the wall of the Great Hall at Winchester in England bearing the names of the twenty-four knights. The table had been commissioned by King Henry VIII in 1511 and bore his image sitting atop a Tudor Rose.
It is certainly closer tae get tae than Austria. It is nae a statue o’ King Arthur, but he most certainly would have rested his feet beneath his own table. It is probably for nae, but one ne’er kens with such things as riddles. Henry, why could ye nae have been more direct with yer words?
Arthur scanned his notes and found the last reference that he had been searching for. Mr. Lyons had informed him of a possible site for King Arthur’s grave as was told to King Henry II by a Welsh bard. King Henry had stopped at Cilgerran Castle in Pembrokeshire, Wales in 1171 and met the bard, whereupon the Welshman told him the King Arthur’s grave was located at Glastonbury.
When the king returned from Ireland, he ordered a search be done at Glastonbury Abbey whereupon a grave was said to be found. Lyons also said that he doubts the veracity of such a tale as the dates were jumbled between the king’s story and that of the actual search for a grave had not occurred until 1190 after the king had died. A burial cross now stood where King Arthur’s grave was supposedly unearthed in the endeavor.
Before Arthur had left London, Mr. Lyons had sent him a copy of an historical account pertaining to the discovery of the grave written by Gerald of Wales. There were two accounts, one in 1193 and another around 1216. Some of what he recounted was etched into the inscription on the burial cross. Arthur pulled out one of the translations that Mr. Lyons had sent him of Gerald of Wales’ 1216Speculum Ecclesiae,and he read it over carefully.
‘The King had told the Abbot on a number of occasions that he had learnt from the historical accounts of the Britons and from their bards that Arthur had been buried in the churchyard there between two pyramids which had been erected subsequently, very deep in the ground for fear lest the Saxons, who had striven to occupy the whole island after his death, might ravage the dead body in their evil lust for vengeance…to avoid such a frightful contingency, to a large stone slab, found in the tomb by those who were digging it up, some seven feet. . .a leaden cross had been fixed, not on top of the stone, but underneath it, bearing this inscription:
HERE IN THE ISLE OF AVALON LIES BURIED THE RENOWNED KING ARTHUR, WITH GUINEVERE, HIS SECOND WIFE’
They prised this cross away from the stone, and Abbot Henry, about whom I have told you, showed it to me. I examined it closely and I read the inscription. The cross had been attached to the under side of the stone and, to make it even less easy to find, the surface with the lettering had been turned towards the stone.’
Arthur frowned down at the paper.Could there be more written on the stone that could be of aid? Is the location of the writing mentioned in the translation being at the foot of the cross significant?The myriad of questions running about his head was giving him a headache. Rubbing his temples Arthur attempted to remember what Mr. Lyons had said about King Arthur’s relics being moved.If that is even who was buried there tae begin with.Arthur found that he greatly doubted so as there was no way to prove that it was true.
Shuffling through the papers, he found a reference to the relics being removed to the abbey’s treasury. There was a new tomb constructed in the church. Lyons had sent him a copy of the epitaph that had been place on the new black marble tomb.
“Here lies Arthur, the flower of the kings, and the glory of the kingdom, Which of the characters, and honesty, and with eternal praise, commend. Here lies Arthur, the second wife is buried here, Who was worthy the heavens of the virtues prolific of offspring.”
Arthur’s frown deepened. “I dinnae find that tae be helpful in the slightest as the blasted tomb and its occupants are nae there anymore thanks tae King Henry VIIIsDissolution of the Monasteriesin 1539. Nae one seems tae ken where the infernal king’s feet came tae rest after that.” Sighing, Arthur sat back in frustration. “I dinnae ken where tae go next, or what tae do. There is nae sense tae be had with this riddle, but why would Henry have left it tae the lass if he did nae think that she could decipher it?
Setting aside Mr. Lyons’ papers, Arthur walked outside to the stables, saddled his horse, and decided to go for a ride to clear his head. He contemplated leaving for Glastonbury but decided that it would be best to converse with Cleo on the subject before he made any particular move. If he was going to be traveling for days on end in search of answers, then Cleo should at least know what he was about. Changing his mind about waiting to go and see Cleo, Arthur turned his horse toward Oxford.
Let us pray that I dinnae regret my decision.
Chapter 19
Cleo was sitting in her father’s study going over his books and papers for what felt like the hundredth time, when a knock sounded at the front door. Her heart leapt at the sound and she scurried to her feet and ran out into the hall hoping to see Arthur, only to discover that it was a messenger and not the nobleman that she sought. Mrs. McGrath stood in the opened door conversing with the young man for a moment before turning away and shutting the door behind her.
Spying Cleo in the hallway behind her she smiled and walked over to hand her the missive. “It is from the Earl o’ Irondale.”
Cleo’s entire being lit up with equal parts excitement and trepidation as she broke open the seal and devoured the letter’s contents. “He has agreed,” she breathed, uncertain whether she felt relief or disappointment. “He will pay call in a few days’ time, after he had done further research on the riddle,” Cleo informed the cook. “I would like to have something nice for him, a treat of sorts, for when he arrives. Something to solidify my apology for the beastly way in which I treated him in London.”
“His Lordship appears tae be a good man tae have on yer side when times are troubled,” Mrs. McGrath pointed out. “I am glad that he came tae aid ye in yer time o’ need, lass, but just remember, lads such as Arthur MacDonald dinnae come along every day. Proceed wisely, listen to yer heart as well as yer mind.” Smiling gently, Mrs. McGrath squeezed Cleo’s hand, then returned to the kitchen. “I will see what sort o’ a treat I can manage for the Earl.”
“Thank you,” Cleo called after her, clutching the letter in her hands as if she were afraid that it would float away or that it might never have been real at all.
Realizing how ridiculous such a thing sounded when acknowledged, she shoved the letter into her pocket and returned to her father’s study. She would only have so much time in which her Aunt Caroline would be in the village and not standing over Cleo discussing the merits of marriage. It had become quite clear that their break from the topic had only lasted for the time it had taken to return from London to Oxfordshire.
If she is so convinced that marriage is such a crucial element to the feminine existence, then she should reconsider the institution herself.Rolling her eyes in exasperation at the thought, Cleo went back to sorting through and categorizing every note that her father had ever made that might even remotely have anything to do with understanding the riddle. She spent the morning rereading everything from her father’s office until her eyes blurred and she was forced to stop for tea.
Just as Cleo sat down in the drawing room to enjoy her afternoon repast, another knock sounded at the door. Not expecting visitors, Cleo arose thinking it might be her Aunt Caroline returning from the village. Opening the door, she came face to face with the Earl of Irondale. Before she had a chance to think about the words that came out of her mouth, she blurted, “I thought you were not coming for days yet?”
Arthur chuckled. “Greetings tae ye as well, lass.”
Cleo blushed in embarrassment, dropped a quick curtsy and corrected herself. “Arthur, what a pleasure it is to see you again. Please, come in.” She stepped out of the way, her cheeks feeling as if she had sat next to the flames too long. “My apologies for my previous behavior.”
“All is forgiven. Think nae upon it a moment longer.” Arthur followed Cleo into the drawing room. “My apologies for paying call sooner than expected. I ken that I sent ye a letter stating otherwise, but I had some thoughts about the riddle that I could nae act upon without first speaking with ye on the matter.”
