Stones of Wrath by S J Ratcliffe

Author:S J Ratcliffe [Ratcliffe, S.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Susanne Ratcliffe
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

Watching through a monocular, Hans looked with interest at the Professor’s activity. At last, I have something to report.

***

Mikkel saddled up and moved to ‘Klekkendhoj,’ a double passage grave. One of the passages had a few skeletons and grave artefacts. However, nothing there appeared to have any connection with the tapestry, other than its place on the map. Excavated in 1807, most of the contents, which included bones, flint weapons, clay vessels and pearls were now at the National Museum in Copenhagen.

After a day of searching through passage graves and around dolmens, he began his trek home. He had one more place to see that day, ‘Sparresminde.’ This one was difficult to get into. He would certainly need to have a bath when he returned. The path leading to the grave had disappeared so finding the entrance took some doing. It was overgrown and difficult to see. This passage grave, which is in essence a dolmen covered by earth, was described as Møn’s most beautiful and complete building.

Mikkel took his tools and paper in with him. Coming back for them was not an option. Inside he could stand, but it meant bending his head at an awkward angle. He held the lamp in front of him and let his eyes wander over every inch of stone. Then, his foot slipped on loose pebbles. Mikkel dropped his tools as he fell. The bang on his head almost knocked him unconscious. Pain coursed through him as he sat still and waited for it to subside.

As he tumbled, his lantern fell and went out. He was plunged into darkness! He fumbled for the lantern and relit it. Looking down where his foot slipped was another small rune! The marking was barely visible in what he thought was a dirt floor. It was, in fact, stone. Once again, Mikkel grabbed his spade and started removing the layers of mud and debris. Alright God, I hear you— this is no coincidence! Using what was left of his water, he washed the stone and patted it dry. Once more, Mikkel noted the inscription in his notebook, then repeated the wax rubbing and finally covered it all up again.

By the time he emerged from ‘Sparresminde,’ it was almost dark. He had an hour’s ride to Lislund. Mikkel went around the south side of ‘Steg Nor Lake,’ stopping to allow his horse a drink. He dismounted to watch the sunset over the picturesque lake. Just as he was preparing to remount, a gunshot rang out and a bullet whizzed past his ear. Mikkel ducked behind the horse. An Austro-German accented voice called out, “Give me the cylinder, Professor Jacobsen, or I’ll shoot.”

The man edged closer, waving his gun around. Mikkel could only see his eyes. He had covered the rest of his face with a handkerchief.

“Throw it to me and I’ll let you live.”

Mikkel reached into his saddlebag. If only I had a weapon. He threw the cylinder to the fellow who backed away and disappeared into the trees along the lake.

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