the Templar Legacy (2006) by Steve - Cotton Malone 01 Berry

Author:Steve - Cotton Malone 01 Berry [Berry, Steve - Cotton Malone 01]
Format: mobi
Published: 2010-12-20T02:02:55.203000+00:00

GIVORS ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE

WELCOME TO THE PAST. HERE, ATGIVORS, A SITE FIRST OCCUPIED BYLOUISIX, A CASTLE IS BEING CONSTRUCTED USING MATERIALS AND TECHNIQUES ONLY AVAILABLE TO13TH-CENTURY CRAFTSMEN. AMASONED TOWER WAS THE VERY SYMBOL OF A LORD'S POWER AND THE CASTLE ATGIVORS WAS DESIGNED AS A MILITARY FORTRESS WITH THICK WALLS AND MANY CORNER TOWERS. THE SURROUNDING ENVIRONS PROVIDED AN ABUNDANCE OF WATER, STONE, EARTH, SAND, AND WOOD, WHICH WERE ALL NEEDED FOR ITS CONSTRUCTION. QUARRIERS, STONE HEWERS, MASONS, CARPENTERS, BLACKSMITHS, AND POTTERERS ARE NOW LABORING, LIVING AND DRESSING EXACTLY AS THEY WOULD HAVE SEVEN CENTURIES AGO. THE PROJECT IS PRIVATELY FUNDED AND THE CURRENT ESTIMATE IS30YEARS WILL BE NEEDED TO COMPLETE THE CASTLE. ENJOY YOUR TIME IN THE13TH CENTURY.

Cassiopeia Vitt funds all this herself? Malone asked.

Medieval history is one of her passions, Mark said. They knew her well at the university in Toulouse.

Malone had decided that the direct approach would be best. Surely Vitt anticipated that he'd eventually locate her.

Where does she live?

Mark pointed east, where the branches of oaks and elms, closed like a cloister, shaded another lane. The chGteau is that way.

These cars for visitors? he asked.

Mark nodded. They give tours of the construction site to raise revenue. I took it once, years ago, right after the work began. It's impressive what she's doing.

He started off toward the lane leading to the chGteau. Let's go say hello to our hostess.

They walked in silence. In the distance, on the steep side of a rising slope, he spied the dreary ruin of a stone tower, its layers yellowed with moss. The dry air was warm and still. Purple heather, broom, and wildflowers carpeted the low earth on both sides of the lane. Malone imagined the clash of arms and shouts of battle that centuries ago would have echoed through the valley as men fought for its dominance. Overhead, a murder of screaming crows flew past.

A hundred or so yards down the lane he saw the chGteau. It filled a sheltered hollow that provided a clear measure of seclusion. Dark red brick and stone were arranged in symmetrical patterns over four stories, flanked by two ivy-crowned towers and topped with slanting slate roofs. Greenery spread out across the fatade like rust on metal. Traces of a moat, now filled with grass and leaves, surrounded three sides. Slender trees rose in the rear and hedges of clipped yew guarded its base.

Some house, Malone said.

Sixteenth century, Mark noted. I was told that she bought the chGteau and the surrounding archaeological site. She calls the place Royal Champagne, after one of Louis XV's cavalry regiments.

Two cars were parked out front. A late-model Bentley Continental GTuabout $160,000, Malone recalleduand a Porsche Roadster, cheap by comparison. There was also a motorcycle. Malone approached the cycle and examined the left rear tire and muffler. The shiny chrome was scarred.

And he knew precisely how that had happened. That's where I shot.

Quite right, Mr. Malone.

He turned. The cultured voice had come from the portico. Standing outside the open front door was a tall woman, lean as a jackal, with shoulder-length auburn hair.

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