The Lost Word

Home > Science > The Lost Word > Page 5
The Lost Word Page 5

by Traci Harding


  Karita felt so horrible for making him remember his past, that she thought she might be sick again. She must have paled, because the wounds suddenly vanished from Tristan’s form and he appeared to be very concerned for her.

  ‘I think you need to eat something, and quickly,’ he suggested. ‘We have digging to do and not much time before Molay returns for the rest of his treasure.’

  ‘The rest of his treasure?’ Karita eyes were wide open now.

  Karita dug in a spot in the middle of a lovely bed of flowers, listening to Tristan outline their problems.

  ‘How do I know Molay shall return?’ He echoed her first query. ‘Because in the middle of a vital sentence I scratched out some glyphs so that the translation will read: “the gold plate is a treasure buried in a subterranean vault”. The sentence still makes sense without the missing word, and could just look like a scribe’s error.’ Tristan sounded like he was hoping for too much. ‘However, I doubt very much Molay will feel comfortable not knowing. He’ll bring Logan back, and if my great-grandson is worth his salt as a psychic, he will command me to obedience and ask me about the omission. What’s more, Molay will recognise the secret location of the subterranean vault as the Brotherhood have been excavating the site since the beginning of the nineteenth century.’

  ‘From where in the sentence was the word omitted?’ Karita was most curious.

  ‘Between the “is” and the “a”,’ he replied.

  ‘And the word was?’ Karita paused from her dig to be enlightened and Tristan smiled at his own cheek.

  ‘Near.’

  Once Karita slotted the word in its rightful place, she grinned broadly. ‘Well, that changes the meaning somewhat.’

  Tristan nodded to agree it did.

  ‘So why are we digging again?’ Karita wondered if she’d missed something.

  ‘Well, the glyphs also tell of a key, a triangular plate of gold, required to unlock the secret treasure, which is suspected to be kept in safekeeping in the House of the Holy Spirits. For it is commonly accepted that the treasure is ancient knowledge lost since the time of Solomon.’

  Karita guessed the rest. ‘We are digging for this key.’ Tristan winked in confirmation.

  ‘So where is this subterranean vault located?’ She commenced shovelling once more.

  ‘On a small island off the coast of Nova Scotia.’

  Karita was shocked to a standstill. She wore a large smile of disbelief as she raised her eyes and challenged him. ‘You’re kidding me?’

  ‘Well,’ Tristan shrugged, ‘you could dig a little slower and Preston shall arrive, claim the key and all the power of creation.’

  ‘I am not too sure I believe in this little treasure hunt you boys seem willing to die and kill for —’

  ‘You didn’t believe in ghosts until yesterday,’ Tristan retorted with humour.

  ‘I did,’ Karita defended, ‘kind of.’ She dug the shovel in deep, hit an obstruction and gasped; she had hoped they wouldn’t find anything.

  From the dirt Karita pulled a small timber chest, locked tight by a large metal padlock. Tristan told her that the key to the lock was hidden beneath a floorboard in the house.

  ‘Can I open it?’ Karita was as much excited as she was frightened to have discovered the key to a treasure so sought after.

  ‘Once we’re on the island and not before,’ Tristan instructed. ‘You should retrieve the key to the chest and make haste to the nearest airport.’

  ‘Tristan?’ Karita cast her eyes down over herself. She was covered in dirt.

  ‘What? You look fabulous!’ He was serious, although there was a laugh in his voice, as he knew Karita would not see his view. ‘Just grab the bags you haven’t unpacked yet and find a hotel,’ he suggested.

  Karita decided to take Tristan’s advice on board. ‘I’m able to use the Gold Card Lounge at the airport. I guess I can change there.’ She carried the weighty little chest toward the house. ‘I’ll call us a cab and we can get the key while we’re waiting.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ Tristan smiled, considering that any other woman would have told him to go hang. ‘Karita,’ he called after her and she turned back to see what the problem was. ‘You are truly extraordinary. Thank you.’

  Karita had not felt so bashful since she was a teenager; men just didn’t say things like that any more. ‘Look who’s talking.’ She struggled with the weight of the chest, which suddenly became as light as a feather.

  ‘Allow me.’ Tristan encouraged her to let it go and as she did so, the chest was left floating in mid-air. ‘I am feeling much recovered,’ he explained.

  5. Misconceptions of the Past

  Ancient wisdom man pursues,

  in a desperate search for clues.

  But if the motive be for the self,

  this doctrine is better left on a shelf.

  Those who would lie, murder and cheat,

  will their own purpose defeat.

  To know the truth just look within,

  for the answer is there and has always been.

  Karita grabbed a quick shower at the airport, quick being the operative word. Tristan hassled her along, not because he feared being caught by Molay, but because he was so amazed to be out of his house that he objected to sitting in a room at the airport when there was so much to see outside.

  Due to the number of people at the airport, Tristan floated high above everyone to avoid being walked through, which he found most disturbing. When that happened, Tristan would meld with that person and would momentarily be exposed to their memories, thoughts and feelings, which was incredibly off-putting in most cases.

  On the plane, Tristan did the same thing, and Karita wondered if her fellow passengers thought her slightly loony, as she struggled for the entire trip to repress her fits of amusement caused by the poor ghost’s predicament.

  They arrived on the south-eastern coast of Nova Scotia, Canada, at about 3 p.m. Karita hired a car at the airport and drove to a ferry that travelled to the island Tristan had pinpointed as the one housing the great subterranean vault, near which the gold plate inscribed with the ineffable name of God could be found.

  Too excited and paranoid to sleep on the flight, Karita now found herself being lulled into a snooze by the gentle rocking of the ferry. She knew that the cool night air blowing over the bay would revive her, but she stayed in the hire car to prevent being seen by anyone.

  ‘We shall find you a bed.’ Tristan realised she needed to sleep after not having had any in the past 24 hours.

  ‘I’ll be okay.’ She closed her eyes, intending only to rest them for a moment.

  ‘You should really try and stay awake until we get to the island.’ Tristan’s voice sounded miles away.

  ‘Uh huh …’

  ‘Miss!’

  Karita awoke to a noisy chorus of honking horns and the ferry’s master knocking at her window.

  ‘Miss, please start your engine and move off the ferry. You’re holding up all those behind you.’ The ferryman smiled as he said this, although his tone was not so accommodating.

  She started the engine immediately. Here I was trying not to draw attention to myself … hah! ‘Sorry.’ She drove the car over the ramp and off on to the island. ‘Tristan, why didn’t you wake me?’ She looked to the passenger seat to find him absent. ‘Tristan?’ She pulled the car over to the side of the road, in order to check the back seat. ‘Tristan!’ She called rather more loudly when she could find no sign of him. Karita climbed out of the car to check outside.

  ‘Hello again, Miss Torelle.’

  Karita felt something small and round dig into her back and froze with fear. She was spun around to find Logan standing there.

  ‘Where is the ghost?’

  ‘That’s a very good question,’ she retorted, rather annoyed that her hero had abandoned her to deal with this alone.

  Preston walked forward from behind Logan to join their happy little reunion. ‘We know de Scott is no longer at the house in Au
stralia, nor is the key spoken of in the glyphs carved on the chimney stacks procured from your roof.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about those texts, I told you before,’ Karita insisted.

  ‘Then why are you here?’ Preston challenged and Karita cringed; she’d walked right into that one. ‘Have another urge to go on holiday so soon?’ He pulled his gun from inside his jacket now that the ferry had left and taken any possible witnesses with it. He gave Logan an order: ‘Check her luggage.’

  Logan nodded and immediately moved to do as he was told. A moment passed as he checked through the bags in the trunk of the car. ‘There’s an old chest here,’ Logan confirmed, ‘but it’s locked.’ He returned to question Karita about this. ‘Where is the key?’

  ‘Search me,’ she said spitefully, not too sure which of the men involved in this affair she was madder at.

  ‘If necessary.’ Logan moved as if to frisk her, but Preston held him at bay when he spotted a car approaching.

  ‘Follow us in our car,’ Preston instructed and Logan immediately headed off across the road to where they’d left their vehicle.

  ‘Get in!’ Preston dragged Karita around to the passenger door, and shoved her across into the driver’s seat and climbed in the passenger seat behind her. ‘Let’s drive,’ he instructed, aiming the gun in his lap in her direction.

  What the hell am I doing here? Karita began to wonder on the quiet as she drove. What the hell was I thinking, following a ghost halfway round the world on some hocus pocus treasure hunt?

  Unaware of the history of the dig, Karita had questioned Tristan on the drive down to the island about the reason the Brotherhood suspected that there was buried treasure in this particular spot. Apparently, the location had all the telltale signs.

  Firstly, it was an island, which was the preferred location of pirates when it came to hiding treasure. Secondly, the lad who had found the site over two hundred years ago had noted a large round depression in the small clearing, over which hung a sturdy branch; attached to this branch was an old tackle block. What started out as three lads digging for buried treasure turned into a centuries-long excavation, due to the extraordinary defence system of the site. For soon after the dig commenced, flagstones, made of a type of slate not to be found on the island, were unearthed and there was a short drop into a shaft that contained more dirt. Differing platforms were found at ten-foot intervals during the major digs that followed, some of these platforms were constructed of ancient oak, and others of charcoal putty and stones. At 90 feet there was a stone inscribed with hieroglyphs that echoed the prophecy inscribed on Karita’s chimney stacks. This prophecy was known to the Brotherhood via a few surviving pages of the old texts … ‘The gold plate is a treasure buried in a subterranean vault.’

  Karita had noted that this message did not contain the omitted word either, and she felt that this was a sign that Tristan was meant to find the treasure as nobody else would understand the message — the pit was just a distraction from the real treasure located somewhere nearby.

  At 93 feet deep, the floor of the shaft began to turn to soft mud and overnight the pit filled with 60 feet of water. It was later discovered that the beach some 500 feet away from the dig was artificial. Examination showed that the original clay of the cove had been dug away and in its place were laid stones, covered by dead eel grass, which was in turn covered by coconut fibre and finally sand. Below this layer were five box drains that merged, well back from the coast, into a single tunnel that ran to the dig site. The filtering action of the coconut fibre and the eelgrass ensured that the drains never became clogged. The custodians of the site in the 1930s managed to block off the flood tunnel from the cove, only to discover more water pouring in from the opposite direction via a route from the south shore. Later that century, drilling indicated a possible cement vault at the 153-foot level.

  At the present time the south end of the island was full of old shafts and it was increasingly hard to tell where the original dig located; only certain men knew — men like Preston Molay and Logan de Scott.

  ‘I really wish you would just tell us what you know, Karita.’ Preston broke the silence. ‘Why are you placing yourself in such danger? Because of de Scott’s ghost?’

  ‘I’ve been asking myself the same questions,’ Karita replied, carefully. It was in her interest to try and befriend Molay, but having seen Tristan confront his spiritual mentor, Karita knew in her heart that Tristan would not abandon this quest, for his eternal soul depended on it. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

  ‘Shoot,’ Preston said cheerily, aiming the gun away from her to take the sting out of his pun.

  ‘What does the Brotherhood plan to do with this sacred knowledge you’re all seeking?’ Karita held a hand up to delay his response. ‘I know you’re going to say that you hope to be enlightened by the ancient insight, and that you plan to be the sacred guardians of the knowledge, as you have been training through the ages to do. But, if yourself and Logan de Scott are any indication of the kind of men that shall have this knowledge at their disposal, do you really need to ask me why I hesitate to share?’

  Preston was clearly impressed by her answer and overwhelmed by her question. ‘Look, I know you have a very bad impression of me,’ he began, ‘but before this little fiasco began I was just an art collector —’

  ‘Just an art collector?’ Karita felt he was being too modest.

  ‘Well,’ he raised his eyebrows and smiled, ‘not just an art collector. But I had never touched a gun, let alone fired one! And for the record, I don’t agree with the conclusions that the Brotherhood drew in relation to Tristan de Scott’s case.’

  Karita felt herself warming to Preston and immediately became wary.

  ‘I believe Tristan was a channel, much as his great-grandson is,’ Preston ventured. ‘Thus, one must consider that Tristan’s claim to be in touch with the Master entity behind a stream of great men who passed the secret doctrine down the ages could be true.’

  Oh, how Karita wanted to tell him of her encounter with this great Master. How the Brotherhood would seethe if they discovered that this mighty being had appeared to a woman who was virtually ignorant of their doctrine. ‘Well, perhaps there’s hope for you yet.’ Karita skirted around the real issue.

  It was plain to see that the dig site had once been quite a major affair. The hole in the ground, which extended down nearly a hundred feet, had claimed many lives in the past couple of centuries and even modern construction and reinforcement techniques had failed to make the dig shaft secure. This was why, for the present, the excavation had been abandoned.

  ‘Now, about the key to this chest,’ Preston asked, shining his torchlight on the locked item. Logan placed it at Karita’s feet and stepped away to let Preston handle the interrogation.

  ‘Once you have that key, I become another victim of this accursed hole in the ground … am I right?’ Karita asked, figuring that she had some defence.

  ‘Not at all,’ Preston assured her sweetly. ‘Your safety depends entirely on how cooperative you are prepared to be. The Brotherhood always rewards the faithful.’

  ‘That’s not what I’ve heard,’ Karita scoffed, as she watched Logan come up behind Preston and rap him over the head with the butt of a gun.

  Karita squealed and jumped back as the art collector dropped to the ground at her feet. Logan dropped the gun and grabbed hold of both Karita’s wrists. ‘Sorry if I had you worried there, lass. I spied them lurking about the shore and needed to draw them in close.’

  ‘Tristan?’ replied a stupefied Karita.

  ‘Aye.’ He winked in reassurance.

  ‘You used me as bait?’ She wanted to make sure she understood him correctly, wrenching herself from his grip. When Tristan nodded, Karita punched him square in the jaw. ‘You had me scared shitless, you arsehole!’ She belted him again and finally felt satisfied. ‘That second one was for Logan.’ She shook her hand which ached from the impact; she’d never struck anyone before a
nd that just went to show how rattled this whole adventure had made her.

  ‘I’ll be sure and pass it on.’ Tristan held up both hands in defence, in case Karita intended to hit him again. ‘Women have changed somewhat since my time.’ He dared to nurse his aching face when Karita backed away a little.

  ‘You’d better believe it, buster.’ Karita gave her body a slight shake, in an attempt to cast off her anger.

  ‘Well, if it makes you feel any better, I couldn’t take Logan over until I got him away from Molay, or the element of surprise would have been lost.’ He grinned, wiping the trickle of blood from the side of Logan’s mouth. ‘Our fearless leader here has saved us a lot of trouble, as he’s mapped out for us the location we seek on this old dig site.’ Logan reached into Preston’s suit jacket and pulled out the map.

  ‘That information was on the stacks, too?’ Karita regretted her little outburst, but did not admit it.

  ‘Aye,’ Tristan confirmed. ‘Although I must say I am impressed that Preston made the connection between those directions and this dig without knowing the omitted word. It means that I don’t have to bother translating the old doctrine.’ He opened the map to peruse it.

  ‘Good plan,’ Karita conceded finally, passing Tristan a tissue from her pocket. ‘Next time, tell me details before and not after the fact.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Tristan said ruefully, dabbing away the blood from his split lip. ‘I won’t make that mistake again.’

  As Tristan eyed over Molay’s translation and calculations using the torch, Karita crouched down to check on the unconscious man.

  When Tristan noticed the care she took in rolling Preston over and making him comfortable, he felt a twinge of jealousy. ‘Don’t bother mollycoddling the man. You are only going to be tying him to Logan here and dropping them both down that shaft.’

  ‘What!’ Karita stood to debate the issue. ‘That shaft is over a hundred feet deep!’

 

‹ Prev