Betrothed. Morgan RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
with high, vaulted ceilings, and natural light pouring in. This room had stark, stone floors, and in its center sat one remarkable piece of furniture: a throne. Mounted high up on a pedestal, at least fifteen feet high, sat the wooden throne, a chair which was extra wide, with arms that sloped upward, and a back that angled on a triangle, coming to a point in the middle. Beneath it, on its corners, sat two golden lions, designed to look as if they were holding up the chair.
Caitlin examined it in awe.
"King Edward's chair," said the vampire. “The coronation throne for kings and queens for thousands of years. A very special piece of furniture – not only for its place in history, but because it holds one of the keys for our kind.”
She turned and looked at Caitlin. "We have been guarding this throne for thousands of years. Now that you are here, and now that you have unlocked the scepter, it is time for you to take your rightful place.”
She gestured for Caitlin to ascend the throne.
Caitlin looked back at her, shocked. What right did she, a simple girl, have to ascend such a regal throne – a throne that had been sat on by kings and queens for thousands of years? She didn't feel right going anywhere near it, much less ascending its huge pedestal and sitting on it.
"Please," prodded the vampire. "You are entitled. You are The One.”
Caleb nodded at her, and Caitlin slowly, reluctantly, climbed up on the huge pedestal, carrying the scepter. When she reached the top, she turned and delicately eased herself into the throne.
It was made of hard wood, and didn't give. As she leaned back on it, she rested her hands on his arms, and could feel its power. She could feel the thousands of years of royalty, who had received their crowns in this very spot. It felt electrically charged.
As she looked out the room, fifteen feet higher than everyone else, she felt as if she towered over it, over the world. It was an awe-inspiring feeling.
"The scepter," said the vampire.
Caitlin looked down at her, puzzled, unsure what she wanted her to do with it.
"In the arm of the throne, you will find a small hole. It is meant to hold it.”
Caitlin looked down, closely, and this time saw a small hole, just wide enough to fit its exact diameter. She reached up and slowly inserted the scepter into the hole.
It sank all the way down until only its head sat above the arm.
Suddenly, there was a soft click.
Caitlin looked down and was amazed to see a tiny compartment open at the base of one of the lions’ heads. Inside, sat a small, gold ring. She reached down and took it out.
She held it up, staring.
"The ring of destiny," said the vampire. "It is meant only for you. A gift from your father.”
Caitlin stared in awe, holding it up to the light, watching the jewels sparkle as she moved it.
"Place it on the ring finger of your right hand.”
Caitlin slid it on, and as she felt the cool metal, a vibration went right through her. She could feel the power coming off of it.
"It will lead the way.”
Caitlin examined it. "But how?" she asked.
"You need only inspect it," the vampire said.
Caitlin was at first puzzled, but then examined the ring more closely. As she did, she noticed a fine, delicate engraving all around the band. Her heart beat faster as she began to read it. She felt immediately that it was a message from her father.
Across the Bridge, Beyond the Bear,
With the Winds or the sun, we bypass London.
Caitlin read the riddle again, then read it aloud, so that Caleb could hear it.
"What does it mean?" she asked.
Their guide only smiled back.
"This is as far as I'm allowed to take you. The rest of the journey is yours to discover." Then she leaned in close. “We are counting on you. Whatever you do, don’t let us down.”
Chapter Five
Caitlin and Caleb walked out the enormous arched doors of Westminster Abbey, into the morning light, Ruth at their heels. They both instinctively squinted and raised their hands to the light, and Caitlin was grateful that Caleb had given her the eyedrops before they’d exited. It took her a few moments for her eyes to adjust. Slowly, the world of 1599 London came into focus.
Caitlin was amazed. Paris in 1789 had not been all that different from Venice in 1791. But London in 1599 was a world apart. She was shocked at the difference 190 made.
Before her, London was spread out. But it was not a bustling, metropolitan city. Rather, it felt more like a large, rural town, with large, empty lots, still in development. There were no paved roads – everywhere was dirt – and while there were many buildings, there were far more trees. Nestled amidst the trees were crudely laid out blocks and rows of houses, many of them uneven. The houses were all built of wood, with huge, thatched, straw roofs. She could see at a glance how combustible this city was, with most everything built of wood, and with all that straw sitting atop houses, and realized how susceptible it was to fire.
She could see right away that the dirt roads made passageway tricky. Traveling by horse seemed to be the preferable way, and the occasional horse, or horse and carriage, went by. But that was the exception. Most people walked – or rather, stumbled. The people who walked down the muddy streets all seemed to struggle to get their footing.
She spotted excrement lining the streets, and was struck by the stench, even from here. The occasional cattle walking by didn’t help. If she had ever considered going back in time to be romantic, this sight certainly gave her pause.
What's more, in this city she didn't see people strolling in their finery, carrying parasols, showing off the latest fashions, as they had in Paris and Venice. Rather, they were all dressed more simply, with much more outdated clothing, men wearing either simple farming clothing, much like rags, and only a few wearing white britches up to their thighs, with short tunics that looked like skirts. The women, for their part, were still covered in so much material, they struggled to navigate the streets as they grabbed the hems of their skirts and held them as high as they could – not just to keep them away from the mud and excrement, but also from the rats, which Caitlin was shocked to see scurrying out in the open.
Still, despite everything, this time was clearly unique – and, at least, relaxed. She felt as if she were in a large country village. There was no fast-paced bustle of the 21st century. There were no cars racing by; there was no sound of construction. No horns, buses, trucks, machinery. Even the sound of the horses were muted, their feet sinking into the dirt. Indeed the only sounds that could be heard, aside from the vendors calling out, were the sounds of church bells, ringing ever presently, like a chorus of bombs, throughout the city. This was clearly a city dominated by churches.
The only thing hinting at the built-up future to come were, paradoxically, the ancient churches – rising high over the rest of the humble architecture and dominating the skyline, their steeples rising impossibly high. Indeed, the building they were exiting from, Westminster Abbey, towered over all the buildings in sight. She could already tell that its steeple, was a beacon for the entire city to get its bearings by.
She looked at Caleb, and saw him surveying the scene, equally amazed. She reached out and was happy to feel him place his hand in hers. It felt so good to feel his touch again.
He turned and looked at her, and she could see the love in his eyes.
"Well," he said, clearing his throat, "it's not exactly the Paris of the 18th century."
She smiled back. "No, it's not.”
"But we’re together, and that's all that matters," he added.
She could feel his love, as he looked deeply into her eyes, and for a moment, was distracted from their mission.
"I'm so sorry for what happened in France,"