Free The Adept Book 2 The Lodge Of The Lynx by Katherine Kurtz, Deborah Turner Harris Page B

the book itself was written not in Latin, but in Middle English.
    “It’s a late medieval encyclopedia,” Adam said, answering the, unasked question. “It was compiled in Latin by Bartholomaeus Anglicus—Bartholomew the Englishman—and later translated by one John of Trevisa. It’s a repository of a wealth of knowledge, as it was understood by the readers of the day, and therefore of considerable interest to anyone interested in the evolution of ideas.”
    He smiled over at Randall Stewart as he closed the book, cradling it against his chest with pleased possessiveness.
    “Thank you for finding this for me, Randall. I know it was no easy task, and I hope you’ll not undervalue your own efforts in setting the price. Don’t give me any numbers now!” he warned, holding up a hand and shaking his head emphatically. “I insist that you come up to Strathmourne in the next week or so, and we’ll discuss it over drinks.”
    “I’d like that,” Randall said, smiling. “As it happens, I’ve got to make a trip up to Stirling tomorrow to do an estate appraisal. It’s supposed to be a large collection, so it may take me several days. Why don’t I give you a ring when I’m finished? If it turns out that you’re planning to be in, I’ll make a slight detour on my way back home.”
    “That should mesh nicely with my plans,” Adam said. “I’ll look forward to your call.”
    Downstairs, Adam and Peregrine tarried long enough for Miranda to wrap up the book, then bade her and Randall a cordial good-bye. Back outside amid the rainy bustle of the Royal Mile, the Range Rover had disappeared. Mildly dismayed, Peregrine turned up his collar and cast a searching glance over the moving lines of traffic. Just then, the hoot of a familiar car-horn caught Adam’s attention.
    “There’s Christopher now,” he said, pointing. “Run for it, before we both get utterly drenched!”
    They arrived back at the rectory closer to two o’clock than to one. Victoria met them at the door and hustled them into the shelter of the hall.
    “Lord, it’s turned perishing cold, hasn’t it?” Christopher observed, as the three of them shook themselves out of their dripping coats. “Sorry we’re late, Vicky. If this keeps up, I think we’ll see snow before dark.”
    “Never mind,” said Victoria. “The kettle’s on the boil, and so is the soup. Come along through to the dining room and I’ll start serving up.”
    Shortly thereafter, the four of them sat down to steaming bowls of Scotch broth, with omelettes and hot buttered toast to follow. In the course of the meal, Christopher and Adam related what had occurred at the flat. At length, prompted by Adam, Peregrine brought out the sketch he had made on the premises. Victoria studied it gravely for a long, thoughtful moment before handing it back. He noticed, hardly even surprised now, that the center stone in her engagement ring was a sapphire.
    “I suspect we should count ourselves lucky to have stumbled across what might turn out to be an important lead,” she observed. “Do you think there’s any chance that Noel will be able to find the young man in the picture?”
    “If he can’t, no one can,” Adam said. “The youth himself is probably no more than a novice. But it’s just barely possible that he might be able to tell us something useful concerning the older man in the background.”
    “The man with the medallion?” Christopher paused to give his long nose a rub. “Are you thinking this fellow might have been mixed up with the events at Loch Ness?”
    Adam frowned. “I wouldn’t want to rule out the possibility.”
    Victoria gave her head a thoughtful shake. “Whatever was in Michael Scot’s spell book, they wanted it badly enough to risk lives for it. What do you suppose they’re up to?”
    “I only wish we knew,” Adam said. “Whatever it may be, they obviously intend to stop at nothing to achieve it.”
    “What about the wee lassie?” asked Christopher.