Page 114 of The Last Kingdom

“We are most definitely in the right place,” Fenn said.

He agreed. Then his mind recalled Lehmann’s message.When Good Friday falls on St. George’s Day, Easter on St. Mark’s Day, and Corpus Christi on St. John’s Day, all the world will weep.And the second part.But where the minstrel aims his praise, and Parsifal points his gaze, the seer and dove offer help from above.

“So the minstrel and Parsifal point to this chest, which in the early twentieth century stood on the other side of the room, right where the images in the painting are looking.”

But he wondered how the seer and dove would help from above.

He stepped close to the cupboard and opened the four cabinet doors. The two at either end accommodated shelves spaced about a foot apart with nothing on them. The two middle doors protected a series of small drawers, stacked atop one another in rows of four. Each was marked with an engraved number, starting with 1 in the upper left and ending with 32 in the lower right.

“What are these?” he asked.

“The best guess,” the curator said, “is that they were places for trinkets, supplies, other small things.”

Koger shook his head. “What are we supposed to do?”

Cotton smiled. “It’s a puzzle.”

“Which I have little patience for.”

“Thankfully, I do.”

Koger shrugged. “Okay, Maloney, work your magic.”

He returned his attention to the cabinet. Fenn was right. Every clue pointed right here. So the answers had to behere. “The first part of the message Lehmann left is a year. The second part has to involve this cabinet.”

1886. The seer and dove offer help from above.

He stepped away from the cabinet to the writing table and lifted the heavy straight-backed chair that sat to one side. He brought it over and used it to gain height and study the carved ornamentation from above. The top was loaded with intricate filigree, crosses, and towers, along with, lo and behold, two doves. One left of center, the other to the right. Both carved of oak, perched with their long necks high and straight. Invisible, unless you stood high.

He reached over and touched them. Both rotated freely on a center axis with no resistance. Round and round, squeaking ever so slightly. He stepped off the chair and stared at the numbered drawers.

1 to 32.

And ran through the possibilities.

1. 88. 6?

18. 86?

188. 6?

None of those worked. But 18. 8. 6? That made sense. In fact, it was the only combination that did, given the double eights in the middle of the other four. He opened the drawers marked with those numbers. All three were empty. But what had he expected? Think.The seer and dove offer help from above.The same guy who made this cabinet also made the desk with the two hidden compartments at Herrenchiemsee.

He stepped back onto the oak chair and grabbed a dove with each hand. Immediately he noticed that they no longer spun freely. Both were stationary with just the tiniest of wiggle room. He twisted left and right. Nothing. Only one direction left. So he pulled them upward. They came free of the oak top, each attached to an iron bar that groaned as it became more exposed. At about six inches there was no more rod and he heard a click.

A panel in the lower left side of the cabinet opened.

The others saw it, too, and came close.

Cotton stepped down.

“I’ll be damned,” Koger said. “You found it.”

Chapter 66

STEFAN FOLLOWED HIS BROTHER AS THEY CAREFULLY MADE THEIRWAYacross a graveled path that led to the Marienbrücke. Normally, on a summer’s night, people would be everywhere, the line to walk across the Queen Mary’s Bridge long, since it offered the best spot for photos of Neuschwanstein. The bridge itself dated to Ludwig’s time, named for his mother, still sporting its original railing and largely unaltered arches. But tonight no one was around, the bridge unlit, stretching unseen in the wintery darkness.

“Remember when we came with Father,” Albert said.