The Celtic Riddle

"A clochan. A beehive hut. There are hundreds of them around here, on the slopes of Mount Eagle, most of them ruins, but some in good condition. I saw them when Malachy, Kevin, Jennifer, and I went looking for clues. Turn on the light, and look: Think of yourself on the inside of a beehive. See how the stones are placed to curve up to the top. It's called corbelling. A work of art, really. These beehive huts were little houses, dating back to the early days of Christianity and maybe even earlier. Monks lived alone in them, as hermits, to study and pray. Sometimes, they were built in clusters around a church. Or when they were used by ordinary folk rather than priests, around, or in, a fort for protection. This one is larger and higher than most. I think I've read that they were usually only about four feet high, but this one is much higher than that, so perhaps it was a house, rather than a monk's cell."

"Very interesting, I'm sure," Rob said. "Now can we think of any way of getting out of this clochan thing?"

"Not really," I replied. I thought for a moment. "Give me that lighter!" I said. I swept the tiny light over the surface of the walls, looking for what I desperately wanted to find. The walls were made of rows of stones placed on top of each other in rather tidy rows, tiny little stones filling in the spaces between them as necessary. For the first few feet, the walls angled in barely perceptibly, but as they got higher, you could see how each row of stones overhung the one below it just a bit, so that the wall curved up to the top, where an opening of about six inches had been left open.

"I'm thinking souterrain," I said at last.

"Sue who?" he said.

"It's not sue who, it's sou what," I replied. "Souterrain. Literally under the ground. If this was used as a house, there might be a souterrain."

"Dare I say, so what?" Rob said, just a touch irritably.

"So-sometimes the souterrain was just a place to store food where it would keep cool in the ground. But sometimes it was an escape route. These shores were often plagued by Viking raids, and people needed an alternate way out of their homes should the Vikings, or pirates, or whatever arrive suddenly. The Viking raiders were particularly interested in church treasures, if I remember correctly, the jewel-encrusted manuscripts and such. So people built low, narrow and curved underground tunnels, the easier to defend themselves from anyone following them, that led several feet or yards outside their houses. If some marauder came toward the front door, they'd go into the tunnel and out the back way.

"Look here," I said moving the light toward one side. "See where the stone pattern changes. Some of the stones are vertical rather than horizontal here, like a lintel over a doorway. And see, the stones are not as regularly placed. Perhaps this souterrain was filled in at a later date!"

Rob looked impressed. "Dry mortar," he said, "no cement or anything. Just the stones themselves. It should be easy to take apart, relatively speaking. Let's get to it! Here, you hold the light, and I'll start."

It was difficult at first, with the stones so closely packed, but in a matter of minutes, Rob had created a small hole in the wall. He reached back for the lighter, and carefully placed it into the hole, and peered in. I held my breath. It could easily just be a storage chamber, I thought, in fact it was more likely to be. I hardly dared to hope.

"I think it's a tunnel," he said at last. "Who'd have thought all that history of yours would be so useful." I almost sobbed with relief.

Within minutes, we'd pulled out enough stones so that we could slip into the tunnel.

"You go first," Rob said. "I'll protect the rear, in case someone comes in before we get away."

I pushed myself feet first into the tunnel. It was dank and cold, and I could see nothing in front of me. Rob passed me the lighter and I moved into the tunnel. After a few feet I was able to stand, although bent over at the waist. The tunnel jogged slightly, then narrowed, and after another few yards, I had to get down on my knees and crawl again. By the time I reached the end of it, I was lying on my stomach and pulling myself along with my elbows.

The end was blocked by a large stone. I pushed as hard as I could. The stone trembled slightly, but didn't give way.

"Small problem," I called back to Rob who was now just a few feet behind me. I held the light up to the rock.

"Mmm," Rob agreed. "We'll both have to push." He pulled himself forward until we were lying side by side in the tunnel. "Turn on your side," he said. "I need some more room."

We were nose to nose and hip to hip by this time. I could feel his breath on my face. All I could think of was that if our captors came after us, we'd not be able to maneuver at all. Being a man, Rob saw it differently. "This is nice, isn't it?" he said. I just knew he was grinning there in the darkness. I glared back, even if he couldn't see.