Cryptic Clues

Chapter 6

"The next morning we were all hard at work by nine o"clock. The six members of the original team had been supplemented by four regular volunteers from our pool of contacts. One of them was Oliver Pallister who, I realised later, must have been the nighthawks" spy.

"There were too many things about Oliver I didn"t like. He was boastful and too given to name dropping; but, more disturbingly, I sensed a calculating coldness in his character lurking just beneath the surface. But he was a hard and willing worker and had been on excavations with Charles and myself in the past. We had enough problems on this dig already, so I buried my dislike and got on with the work.

"During the mid-morning refreshment break Charles drew me aside. He glanced up at the outline of the ringfort and said he"d like to take a look at Ludd"s Castle. Had we time to walk up? I thought it would surely be okay to leave Marcus in charge for an hour.

"Fifteen minutes later we stood in the centre of the ringfort, a flat grassy space about thirty-five by twenty-five metres, surrounded by the collapsed remains of an earth bank about a metre high and a three-metre-deep external ditch.

"The view of the surrounding landscape was impressive, with rolling moorland to the east and rugged river valleys to the west. The village of Stone Clough could be seen to the south-west, its houses straggling along the sides of a steep ravine. The sweeping hillside pastures of Pen Crags were hidden from sight by intervening northern slopes.

"Charles exclaimed with delight at the views, saying that at one time the exposed location would have suggested a defensive purpose for the ringfort, but we had to think outside the usual boxes these days. I remarked that the ringfort was too small to be a defensive position and would at most have been no more than a lookout.

"Charles suggested we assumed Moorhouse was correct and the site contained a pagan temple. He said Moorhouse found what he called sacred stones. Then, in true Victorian form, he took them home and put them in his garden! Charles regretted that sketches hadn"t even been made. "A faded photo would have helped".

sacred stones"What do you think this place was? he asked suddenly. He said he"d be interested in my ideas. "We"re outside the box now and no one"s listening!" I felt gratified to be asked. I said I thought we had to get beyond the ritual enclosure type of non-response. I said I"d an idea all this ditch digging was protective, but not militarily.

ritual enclosure"Charles agreed. He thought the site may have been designed "to keep out evil spirits". The officiating priests might have hammered in stakes bearing apotropaic masks or severed heads, a typical Celtic practice as we both knew. I added that they may have been trying to keep something in. Moorhouse had called this place a temenos, so maybe the people used Ludd"s Castle to invoke the presence of a deity. I said they were undoubtedly more mystical times back then, when people were in awe of their natural surroundings, believing in magic and a whole invisible world – and in a life after death.

intemenos"I remember Charles agreeing wholeheartedly, adding that there was a legend attached to the ringfort. Moorhouse had written that anyone who went there on All Hallows Eve would see the entrance to hell. If we took away the Christianisations we could have a folk memory of Celtic death rites. I suggested that for hell read underworld, the world of the dead.

hellunderworld"An idea was forming in my mind. I said if this whole area was sacred to the Celtic dead – and if there was a Celtic temple in this enclosure – our current project may only be touching part of a much wider sacred landscape. "Ludd as psychopomp!" Charles enthused. "Death rites at the Celts" Gates of Winter festival!" In which case, I added, the ringfort entrance should be aligned on first November sunset. What a pity we couldn"t excavate now!

"At that moment a pair of carrion crows settled on the encircling bank and cawed at us. Within a few minutes they were joined by several more. They set up a cacophony of angry cawing, then hopped boldly into the enclosure. Charles watched the birds thoughtfully. He reminded me that they were omens of death in the Celtic world and perhaps their presence was a confirmation: this was a place where you could go to hell!

was"I don"t think they want us here," I said. "We"d better go before something happens we might regret."

* * *

"As dusk was thickening on the eastern horizon the team began packing up. We hadn"t been interrupted by hostile locals and had made good progress under a sunny September sky. We loaded the finds, which included complete skeletons and a large number of carefully-labelled grave goods, into the back of the department"s van that we had brought for the purpose. The trenches had been backfilled.

"As the rest of the team drove away Charles and I folded the trestle tables in the finds" tent, to give the impression to any nocturnal visitors from Pen Crags that the dig was winding down. As we were walking back to the van Charles realised he"d left his glasses in the tent and said he"d just pop back to get them.

"I changed my muddy boots while I waited for him, then I decided to turn the van around, feeling a distinct sense of unease and an increasing impatience to get away from the place. I put this down to the isolation of the site and the steadily encroaching darkness.

"I heard Charles"s cry through the open driver"s window. He was on his way back to the van and I saw him fall. I ran to help him. I simply thought he"d tripped over something on the ground.

"When I reached him he was lying on his back and seemed to be unconscious. I could see no visible cause for his sudden collapse. In spite of my attempts at resuscitation I was unable to restore him to consciousness. Completely helpless I phoned for the emergency services.

"It was only later I got an inkling of what he must have seen."

* * *

"So there you have it," Tony said, "the main events of our doomed excavation. I sat in the hospital waiting room hoping for positive news of Charles and thinking how a life could change in a moment and how all the people dependent on that life would be left with their hopes in free fall, facing the turmoil of adjusting to the new situation."

Tony, Ray and Martin drank more coffee in Tony"s office. Martin had hardly said a word during the archaeologist"s account of the excavation, busying himself with writing detailed notes.

"And did they adjust?" Ray asked.

"I rang the university archaeology department and got the number for Charles"s wife. Then I remembered Charles saying she was in Berlin at an arts festival. I left a message on her voicemail, asking her to ring me back. The next thing I needed to do was speak to the team, who were understandably shocked. Though they all said they would come to the hospital, it was only Annette and Sue who joined me. By the time they arrived the doctors had moved Charles to their stroke unit. Sue said Marcus and Nigel were phoning round, trying to find excavation work for the summer. They said to pass on their best wishes to Charles, but they had decided the dig was a lost cause."

"So Mr Bellingham"s stroke was curtains for the excavation?" Ray asked.

"It was," Tony confirmed. " Charles is a hard act to follow when it comes to the Celts."

Ray thought he detected a hint of resentment in Tony"s voice, but he let it pass. There was nothing wrong with ambition if you pursued it with propriety.

"What happened to the team?"

"Sue told me the next day that Marcus and Nigel had got lucky and were transferring to a rescue dig in the north Midlands. She and Annette returned to their work in the department. And so have I. I"d hoped they would have asked me to take over the dig, but I"ve heard nothing from the department on that yet. I"m extremely disappointed for Charles and sad for us all. I feel I"m stuck in limbo till the situation is resolved."

"Was it a major stroke Mr. Bellingham suffered?" Martin questioned.

"The doctor I spoke to was pretty tight-lipped, but when I explained I needed to speak with Charles"s wife who was abroad, he opened up a bit and said they were still doing tests, but he was optimistic the patient would make a good recovery. He added, however, that it could be a long time before Charles could function normally."

"Have you any idea how it happened?" Ray queried.

Tony shook his head. "He was getting a bit portly, but we"d just walked up to the ringfort and he kept pace easily with me."

"That"s not quite what I meant," Ray said. "I should have asked if Mr. Bellingham saw something that might have triggered the attack? There was no sign of the roughnecks from Pen Crags, for example?"

"No. Nothing like that. The place was deserted. Charles and I were completely alone." Tony paused a moment, reflecting. "But, now you ask, I thought I glimpsed a movement on the hillside, but it was getting dark and difficult to see. I ran to Charles"s aid and looked again, but there was nothing, only the rising wind shrieking like a banshee in the trees. Although..." he paused again, frowning, "now I"m looking back at the incident I realise I was taking in more than I thought I was. I"m aware now that everything changed and then went back to normal."

Ray leaned forward expectantly. "How d"you mean?"

"It"s hard to explain. The atmosphere changed...it became charged with something I"ve never experienced before, although I had what I might call a foretaste on the visit with Marcus to Pen Crags."

"You mean you felt the presence of something threatening, even evil?" Ray asked.

Martin"s eyes opened wide with surprise at his colleague"s question.

Tony chose his words carefully. "Well yes...at least...something sinister. And there was another sound, not just the wind in the trees. Something deeper, something that was disturbing. It lasted only a few moments then it was gone. I could convince myself I imagined this, but I don"t think I did. And I had the impression of something rushing away up the hillside. But I can"t recall what it was. Something outlandish...something I couldn"t identify."