The Messiah Secret - James Becker [115]
Two minutes later Bronson led the way in through what actually appeared to be little more than a crack in the rock. But inside, the cave widened out considerably.
‘It’s a lot bigger than it looks,’ Angela said, staring around her in the light from Bronson’s torch.
‘But no sign of anything that you could interpret as “the darkness formed of man”,’ Bronson pointed out, shining his torch around the interior of the empty space.
Facing them was a flat rock wall, boulders and lumps of wood resting against it in a tumbled heap. To the right of the rock wall a short tunnel the height of the cave opened up, but terminated in another solid wall of stone after perhaps ten or twelve feet. To the left, there was an even shorter tunnel, just three or four feet deep.
‘No,’ Angela said sadly. ‘To me, this just looks like a cave.’
She turned to leave, but Bronson reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her.
‘Doesn’t anything strike you as odd about this place?’
Angela shook her head. ‘No. It’s just a cave, a hole in the rock.’
‘But we know that somebody’s been in here.’
‘How can you tell?’
Bronson pointed at the wall opposite. ‘What do you see over there?’ he asked.
‘Rocks and bits of wood. Why?’
‘Exactly. The only way wood can get into a cave is if some person or animal carries it in. Which means that somebody else has been in here too. The question is, when were they here? And what could they have been doing?’
Bronson strode over to the wall and looked down at the debris. ‘Some of these look to me like worked timbers,’ he said.
He knelt down and started rooting about. Then he picked up a lump of wood, but it crumbled away almost to nothing in his hands.
‘These bits of timber must have been in here a long time,’ he said slowly, shaking the dust and slivers of wood off his hands. He bent forward and examined the remaining lumps of timber more closely. ‘I think this could be a part of a wheel,’ he muttered. ‘It looks like the rim of a solid wooden wheel. The edge of it is definitely rounded.’ He stepped back and looked down again. ‘You know, this could possibly be the remains of a cart, something like that.’
‘Makes sense,’ Angela said dejectedly. ‘When the monks from the Namdis Gompa monastery built that house of meditation we’ve just been in, they’d have had to haul worked stone up here to do it, and they would have needed some sort of cart. When they’d finished it, they probably just stored it here rather than dragging it back down the mountain again.
‘They could have worked the stone up here,’ Bronson suggested. ‘It would have been easier than shaping it down in the valley and then hauling it all the way up here from the monastery.’
‘Maybe . . .’ Angela said, clearly still unconvinced.
Bronson took another look at the lumps of wood lying on the floor, then turned back towards the entrance. Then he stopped suddenly.
‘Just come over here, will you?’ he said quietly.
Angela stepped across to where he was standing. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
Bronson didn’t reply, just pointed upwards.
‘What?’ Angela asked again.
‘There, in the roof. See those two parallel lines? There’s no way those are natural. Somebody cut those out of the stone with a hammer and chisel.’
On the right-hand side of the rock wall, the cave extended a short distance back into the mountainside, into a short, blind-ended tunnel. What Bronson was pointing at were two straight lines that extended from the side of the vertical rock wall over to their right, a distance of about five or six feet.
‘What are they?’ Angela asked.
‘I know what they look like,’ Bronson said, ‘though that’s almost unbelievable. But there’s one way to check.’
‘How?’
‘Let me show you.’
From his vantage point on the cliffs above, Nick Masters watched the two figures vanish from sight into what he presumed was a cave.
He looked away from his binoculars for a few seconds and stared at his watch. Then he glanced behind him to where Donovan stood, leaning against a boulder, looking uncomfortable.
He slid back from the cliff edge and waved