“I am not fond of the idea, but what other choice do we have. I know not how else to proceed.”
“Nor do I.”
They sat there frowning in thought, neither keen to be separated for such a span of time. Their earlier arguments forgiven, they wished to proceed together with the investigations into her father’s death. Doing so alone put them both in greater danger. There was safety in numbers, or at least they believed so. It was clear that Arthur’s concerns were not for his own safety but hers; however, the same could be said of Cleo. She had enough worry for the both of them.
“I do not like the idea of you going to so much difficulty on my behalf, alone. It does not seem right to me at all. If anything were to happen to you because of something my father or I have done, I would never forgive myself.”
“None o’ this is yer fault, lass. I would have gotten involved even if ye had nae asked me tae. I would have found a way tae bring yer faither’s killer tae justice. I would have found the professor’s hidden messages tae ye and we would still be here as we are now asking the same questions. Dinnae for one moment believe that ye are capable o’ bringing any harm tae me that I would nae have already brought to myself.”
Cleo looked up into his eyes and found herself fighting back the tears. Why she was having so much difficulty at the idea of him leaving and being gone for so long was a mystery to her, and she prayed that it was not for the reasons that she was beginning to suspect.I am not in love with Arthur MacDonald! I refuse to be in love with anyone!Unable to bear her own thoughts, Cleo arose from her seat faster than she should have, getting her feet tangled up the legs of her chair.
“Ah!” She cried out as she fell sideways unable to stop herself. She grasped for the desk but fell short, and instead slammed right into the wall between the desk and her father’s series of bookshelves. Flailing about she grabbed hold of the tapestry wall covering that had been adhered to the wall’s surface long ago. Due to its age and the momentum of her body a section of the tapestry ripped away from the wall’s surface with a rending tear.
“Cleo!” Arthur shot up from his chair grabbing her just before she slammed her head into the floor.
Heart pounding, cheeks flaming with embarrassment, Cleo sat down on the floor with a thump and let the tears fall. “I am so very sorry,” she whispered, as tears streamed down her cheeks in silent surrender. “I am so very, very sorry.”
“Och, lass. There is nae anything for ye tae be sorry for. Dinnae fash, we will find a way through this together, nae matter what may come.” He lifted her chin up so that her eyes met his as he thumbed the tears from her cheek. “Dinnae lose heart.”
Cleo felt the strongest urge to lean into his arms and allow him to take on the burdens of her heart, but she restrained herself. It was too soon after their recent argument to be going back on the strictures that she had put into place. It shocked her how desperately she wished to kiss him again. She had not planned on feeling so strongly for him and it was proving to be a challenge to resist the beauty of his countenance, the sincerity of his heart, and the sharpness of his mind.
Turning her head away so that she would not act on her thoughts, Cleo rolled over onto her hands and knees to stand but stopped when she saw the damage that she had done to the wall covering. “Nay,” she murmured in dismay at the sight. “What have I done to my father’s sanctuary?”
“It was a bit damage before ye fell. I believe that is what caused it tae tear so easily. Dinnae blame yerself unduly. It can be repaired, lass. It will nae be exactly the same, but all is nae lost,” Arthur reassured her as they bent together to inspect the extent of the damage.
“What is this?” Cleo murmured; her eyes having caught sight of something quite unexpected. An image of some kind had been revealed by the torn wall covering.
“I dinnae ken,” Arthur answered, bending closer to get a better look. “Are those feet?”
Chapter 20
Cleo’s eyes widened.“...the truth you find beneath his feet…”she whispered the words as if they were a prayer. “It cannot be…can it?” Completely disregarding her early upset for having damaged her father’s study wall, Cleo began tearing away the tapestry with fervor. “It cannot have been here all of this time right in front me.”
“Henry, ye sly auld fox,” Arthur murmured, moving forward to aid her in her tearing away the cloth covering.
What their efforts of destruction revealed was more than either of them could ever have possibly hoped for. There in royal blue stood the image of King Arthur himself holding Excalibur, the sword’s tip pointing down at his feet. “There is something written here, but I cannot tell what it is.” Grabbing a magnifying glass from her father’s desk, Cleo knelt down as close as she could get to the base of the wall.
“What do ye see, lass?” Arthur asked, joining her on her hands and knees.
“I do not know. It appears to be some kind of lettering or symbols.”
“Let me see,” Arthur asked, and Cleo moved out of the way, handing him the magnifying glass. “They are runes. I learned about these in yer faither’s class as some symbols such as these were shared between cultures. In this particular case they were shared among the Ancient Greeks and the Norsemen o’ auld,” Arthur explained, squinting to study the script. “Hand me a piece o’ paper and a quill.”
Cleo arose and brought him the needed supplies. “Can you read it? Translate it, I mean?”
“Aye, once I have it written down, I will explain it tae ye.”
Cleo waited with bated breath, barely able to contain her excitement. “I cannot believe that it was here all of this time. How did Father ever know that I would find it? It is not as if I am in the habit of ripping the coverings off of the walls.”
Arthur chuckled. “I suspect he is the one who damaged it first. Perhaps he thought ye might try tae repair it and find the image beneath in the effort.”
“Had I not been so consumed by my grief and anger at the world, perhaps I would have noticed it sooner and done so.”
Arthur smiled at her as he finished writing down the runic inscription. Standing, he came to sit with her at the desk. “Do ye see this first symbol?”
“Yes,” Cleo nodded. “It looks like part of the head of an arrow or something.”
“This is the Kenaz rune,” he explained, tracing the symbol with his finger.”
