Timeline - Michael Crichton [150]
The diagram had been carved in the wood of the door many years before. Undoubtedly, the soldiers had already seen it. But if they were still searching, then they hadn’t understood what it meant.
But Marek understood.
Kate was staring at him, and she mouthed, Staircase?
Marek pointed to the image. He mouthed, Map.
Because now at last it was all clear to him.
VIVIX wasn’t found in the dictionary, because it wasn’t a word. It was a series of numerals: V, IV and IX. And these numerals had specific directions attached to them, as indicated by the text in the parchment: DESIDE. Which was also not a word, but rather stood for DExtra, SInistra, DExtra. Or in Latin: “right, left, right.”
Therefore, the key was this: once inside the green chapel, you walked five paces to the right, four paces to the left and nine paces to the right.
And that would bring you to the secret passage.
He grinned at Kate.
What everybody was looking for, they had at last found. They had found the key to La Roque.
09:10:23
Now all they had to do was get out of the mill alive, Kate thought. Marek went to the door, peered cautiously out at the soldiers in the main room. She came up alongside him.
She counted nine soldiers. Plus de Kere. That made ten altogether.
Ten against two.
The soldiers seemed less preoccupied with their search than before. Many of them were looking at one another over the pounding trip-hammers, and shrugging, as if to say, Aren’t we finished? What’s the point?
Clearly, it would be impossible for Kate and Marek to leave without detection.
Marek pointed at the stairs to the upper ramp. “You go straight to the stairs and out of here,” he said. “I’ll cover you. Later, we’ll regroup downstream on the north bank. Okay?”
Kate looked at the soldiers. “It’s ten against one. I’ll stay,” she said.
“No. One of us has to make it out of here. I can handle this. You go.” He reached in his pocket. “And take this with you.” He held out the ceramic to her.
She felt a chill. “Why, André?”
” Take it.”
And they moved out into the room. Kate headed toward the stairs, returning as she had come. Marek moved across the room, toward the far windows, overlooking the river.
Kate was halfway up the stairs when she heard a shout. All around the room, soldiers were running toward Marek, who had thrown back his monk’s cowl and was already battling one.
Kate didn’t hesitate. Taking her quiver from beneath her robes, she notched the first arrow, and drew her bow. She remembered Marek’s words: If you want to kill a man . . . She had thought it was laughable at the time.
A soldier was shouting, pointing at her. She shot him; the arrow struck his neck at the shoulder. The man staggered back into a brazier, screaming as he fell into glowing coals. A second soldier near him was backing away, looking for cover, when Kate shot him full in the chest. He sagged to the ground, dead.
Eight left.
Marek was battling three at one time, including de Kere. Swords clanged as the men dodged among the pounding triphammers and leapt over spinning cams. Marek had already killed one soldier, who lay behind him.
Seven left.
But then she saw the soldier get to his feet; his death had been a pretense, and now he moved forward cautiously, intending to attack Marek from behind. Kate notched another arrow, shot him. The man tumbled down, clutching his thigh; he was only wounded; Kate shot him in the head as he lay on the wood.
She was reaching for another arrow when she saw that de Kere had broken away from the fight with Marek and was now running up the stairs toward her with surprising speed.
Kate fumbled for another arrow, notched it, and shot at de Kere. But she was hasty and missed. Now de Kere was coming fast.
Kate dropped her bow and arrow and ran outside.
:
She ran along the ramp to the mill, looking down at the water. Everywhere, she could see river stones beneath the hissing white water: it was too shallow for her to jump. She’d have to go back down the