Crusader Gold by David Gibbins Read Free Book Online

yellowed parchment, some compacted like papier-mâché but much of it well preserved with letters still plainly visible.
    “It looks like a clean-out of the library,” Jeremy said. “Torn fragments, books damaged beyond repair. It’s all handwritten manuscript, and none of it looks later than the thirteenth century. The architectural historian reckons this staircase became redundant and was sealed up some time before the completion of the north transept in the fourteenth century.”
    Maria shifted sideways and pointed to the spot where her head had obscured the centre in shadow. She was suddenly trembling with excitement.
    “Look,” she exclaimed. “It isn’t all fragments. There’s an intact folio volume.”
    Jeremy reached over with his longer arms and carefully extracted the leather-bound book from its bedding of parchment fragments. While he held it Maria gently blew off the dust and opened the hoary brown cover.
    “Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum.”
    She read out the words slowly, her mind reeling in astonishment. “The Venerable Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People. And in Latin, which means one of the original copies. Ninth, maybe eighth century.”
    Jeremy peeled off a sheaf of parchment that had become stuck to the back of the volume. With the musty leaves balanced on his hands he began humming quietly to himself, his eyes darting to and fro across the writing. Maria watched bemusedly as he suddenly became silent.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “Incredible,” he whispered. “A twelfth-century continuation of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. It mentions King Henry II and King John. It must be the latest document anywhere in Old English, the language the Normans tried so hard to suppress. It clinches my thesis once and for all, that the Anglo-Saxon tradition was kept alive in the secret scriptoria of the cathedrals well into the medieval period. If this doesn’t get me my doctorate, nothing will.”
    Maria surveyed the scene in front of them, noting several more intact volumes poking out where they had removed the Bede.
    “This was more than just a clean-out,” she asserted quietly. “It’s always been a mystery why these two seminal works of Anglo-Saxon history were missing from the Hereford library, in a collection with liturgical manuscripts going back to the eighth century. It may have been an overzealous librarian keeping up with the times, making space for more recent works. But it may have been more than that, a deliberate culling of works of Anglo-Saxon history from the library, an attempt to conceal anything the Norman aristocracy saw as subversive.”
    She carefully closed the book and cradled it in her arms, at the same time looking with concern at the fragments of parchment which had broken off and crumbled where Jeremy had extracted the volume from its resting place.
    “We’ll take the Bede and those pages of the Chronicle,” she instructed. “But everything else must remain in situ and the entrance resealed until we can assemble a full conservation team. We can’t afford to expose any more parchment to air.” She peered again at Jeremy, who was cleaning his glasses with a serious look on his face. “And I forgive you.” She grinned. “You may just have stumbled on the greatest treasure trove of early English history ever discovered.”
    As they swivelled round to go, Jeremy caught sight of an anomalous shape protruding from the sea of parchment fragments. It was one end of a wound scroll, something that might be even older than the bound manuscript volumes.
    Unable to restrain himself, he leaned back to extract it just as Maria was beginning to crawl out.
    He cleared his throat suggestively and Maria looked back towards the bright tungsten light. She saw his guilty expression and then the metre-long scroll perched on top of the Chronicle pages.
    “We must leave it,” she said sharply.
    “Not if you still want to do that seminar this evening.”
    Maria’s