Cindy Miles - Ghost 01 by T J

Author:T J [J, T]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-01-16T23:39:44.549000+00:00

"Are you positive you don't want me to come down there?" Tristan called from above.

"No. You're way too big," she answered. Not that she wouldn't want him down there. "It's covered by a roll of leather, although some of it has rotted away." She fingered the binding. "It's tied together with some sort of vine—wait, it looks like yew, just like what was wrapped around the skull." She snapped another picture. "Very, very bizarre."

Tristan peered over the edge of the hole. "Can you see any of the weaponry within?"

Andi ducked her head and studied the aged leather satchel. "Yeah, I can, actually. Several blades, I think."

"It looks powerfully large, that sack. It's not possible for a wee maid like you to lift it out wholly."

Tristan was right. She ran her gloved hand over the bulging leather bag. "I'll have to loosen the twine and hoist out each piece separately."

"Have you ever held a thirteenth-century sword, lady? 'Tis heavier than you think."

Andi looked up and grinned. "Yeah, I have, and I can handle it. No problem."

"Hmm. We shall see."

God, there were those dimples again. How had he remained single for so long? "Okay." She blew out a heavy breath. "First, I'll have to cut this twining off and peel back the leather." Reaching into her tool belt, she grabbed her pocketknife and flipped open the blade. "Here goes."

Steadying her hand, she pushed the sharpened steel through the first twist of twine. Minutes later, she cut all the way through. The bundle heaved as the contents spread. Lifting the twine, she climbed the ladder and stepped out onto the ground.

She held the vine out for Tristan to inspect. "Just like the one around the skull."

"Bloody saints. 'Tis twisted yew." He bent his dark head over the braid, then quickly lifted his gaze to Andi's. "Witchery, Andrea." He inclined his head to the hole. "Whatever is in that satchel is cursed. As is the poor soul you dug out."

It sounded so absurd, yet proof of the black arts and witchery stood right before her, wearing chain mail made by a sweat-covered smithy over seven hundred years before. She shook her head. "I don't understand. What do you mean by witchery?"

Lifting a finger, he pointed at the braid. "Twisted yew is solely used by those practicing witchcraft.

They think it holds some sort of ancient power useful in binding curses."

"Wow."

"Aye. Wow."

"If you two are through wowing, can we get on with the weapons? I'm passing curious to see what else lies within the bag."

Both Tristan and she turned to find Kail, Jason, and all twelve of the other knights slowly materializing at the dig site. They stood, arms crossed over mailed chests, legs spread wide.

Waiting.

Tristan pointed to the braid. "Twisted yew. I vow whatever lies within that satchel is cursed," he said to his men.

Sir Richard stepped forward and peered at the twining. "Aye, he's the right of it, just like that poor lad who was killed and buried. And I've a bad feeling in me gorge about what's in that bag.

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