She stole a glance at me when she finished the story. "Does his village still exist?" she asked. "Ercildoune?"
"Earlston," I corrected her. "Oh, yes. The A68 goes right through it."
Derek Marchand hunched over the conference table and inspected his troops. "Only six?" he said, with a puzzled glance at Denny Allan.
"Yes, well, there is one more," Denny told him. "Callum Farming will be along on the dig, but he couldn't make the meeting. Prior appointment of some sort. He's a good fellow, though. Archaeology student from Inverness."
Marchand looked as if he wanted to comment further on this early dereliction of duty, but he merely nodded. "Right, then, I'll begin. As you must know by now, I am Derek Marchand, and I'll be heading up this investigation, but the dig is actually financed by a grant from Aberdeen University. That is who will be paying your princely salaries."
Sour smiles from the diggers. Archaeology pays less than lemonade stands.
"I shall outline the purpose to you first, and then we'll get acquainted and go into the logistics of everything."
Elizabeth wrote down logistics on her notepad, changing the last s to a drawing of a seal.
"As you know, chambered tombs and long cairns are a part of Celtic culture found in much of western Europe, but only in Britain do we find the circular earthworks called henge monuments; that is, a deep ditch, a concentric outer bank, and entrance causeways through the ditch and bank." Marchand held up a diagram of a site resembling Stonehenge.
"We are just beginning to examine this sort of monument. The Banrigh site, where we shall be working, is a great stone circle. You may think of it as a prehistoric Westminster Abbey, if you like. Actually we know very little about them: how they were built, or why."
Tom Leath smiled at this. You know less about them than that, he thought. If we learn anything about the culture, it will be in spite of you.
"Our purpose in the present phase of the dig is to attempt to discover the unit of measurement used by these ancient engineers. We will mark off the circle and measure it to see whether—as Alexander Thom has claimed—a megalithic yard was used to determine distances within the stone circle."
"What about the island?" asked Alasdair McEwan in a bored voice.
"Banrigh is a rather remote little island in the Hebrides. There were a few farms and a small village mere until early in this century, but the inhabitants are long since gone."
Elizabeth looked up from her notes. "We won't be staying in tents, will we?"
Marchand smiled. "I can tell by that American accent of yours that you're not accustomed to a Scottish summer," he said playfully.
Elizabeth shivered. "Has there ever been one?"
Denny laughed. "Actually, there is some sort of structure on Banrigh, isn't there?"
Marchand nodded. "During the war, the island was used as a weather station for the North Atlantic fleets, and an army Nissen hut used by those chaps is still standing. It's a bit rusty, and the electricity's long gone, but it will serve to keep the rain off our backs.''
Owen Gilchrist frowned. 'The island is deserted/
"Another American accent," Marchand remarked. "Young man, we will be alone on Banrigh, but we will hardly be castaways. We will have a radio with us for emergency communications, and a marine biologist who will be working on an island several miles away has kindly offered to come in once a week and to bring in supplies."
Elizabeth wondered if she were blushing at this oblique reference to Cameron.
Owen did not look reassured. "But suppose one of us gets hurt?"
"That, I think, will be my concern," said Alasdair with a condescending smile. "Archaeology is only my hobby. I'm a medical student at Edinburgh University."
"And very kind of you to come along and look after us," said Marchand heartily.
Tom Leath winced. He hoped the self-appointed doctor wouldn't turn out to be a prima donna. The expedition was too small to carry any dead weight in the crew.
"Well, then, that seems settled. Is there anything else to be said before I get on to the technical part of our briefing?"
Owen Gilchrist beamed across the table at his newfound comrades. "Would anyone like to have dinner with a vampire?"
"You should have seen their faces!" Elizabeth grinned. "They must have thought he was completely crazy!"
"Don't be too sure he isn't," Denny added. "But it does sound like a lovely evening, Cameron. Why don't we all go?"
With counterpoint interjections Denny and Elizabeth explained Owen s invitation to experience one of Edinburgh s most unusual tourist attractions. First came dinner at nine at The Witchery, an elegant restaurant in an old building on the Royal Mile, just a few yards from the entrance to Edinburgh Castle. Owen had been so sure of everyone's enthusiasm that he had booked two tables.
"And he would be awfully hurt if he had to cancel both of them," Elizabeth said.
Cameron looked suspicious. "Who else is going?"
Denny grinned. "Marchand and his assistant both pleaded prior engagements. It's probably true."
"And I think the Danish girl wanted to come, but her doctor-boyfriend is a prig." Elizabeth sniffed. "He said he had some work to do before he could leave for the dig, and that the least Gitte could do for him would be to get his laundry ready and pack for him."
"His bedside manner seems less than promising," Denny agreed.
"I take it that we have already agreed to go in order to spare young Owen's feelings?" Cameron asked wearily.
"Not at all," said Elizabeth. "We have agreed to go because I wouldn't miss it for the world!"
"Dinner, she means," Cameron remarked to Denny.
Elizabeth put out her tongue at him. "That wasn't what I was talking about. I want to see the vampire!"
"Steady on!" said Cameron. "What vampire?"
"It's a deceased highwayman, actually," Denny said. "Two young businessmen have come up with a splendid innovation in guided tours. They're leading the tourists all around the so-called Murder Walks of Edinburgh in an after-dark excursion."
"Just the evening for a forensic anthropologist, I suppose?" Cameron asked. "Sort of a busman's holiday, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth nodded. "Not to mention all the favors you owe me for the auto-parts stores I've suffered through."
"And this is how you want to spend your last evening in civilization? Trailing around after a vampire? You're sure?"
Elizabeth grinned. '' A-positive!''
CHAPTER
5
Elizabeth loved The Witchery. As soon as she entered the candlelit restaurant, with its white stone walls and its Halloween decor, she succumbed to an attack of folklore expertise and proceeded to wander around the room examining all the wall decorations and occult graffiti and explaining their significance to Cameron, Denny, and Owen.
"The Pentagram, of course, is a symbol of protection. One is supposed to stand inside it when—"
Denny grinned. "Let's order dinner—and hope she doesn't talk with her mouth full."
"Anthropology major," Cameron said apologetically to the waitress, as he led Elizabeth away from the stuffed goat's head and back to their table. "What would you like for dinner, dear? Eye of newt? Toe of frog?"