A Midsummer Night's Romp

by Katie MacAlister

  “Out here?” I asked, glancing around. We were headed toward the field where the main number of trenches were, but bypassed those for the small hill just beyond the fence that was covered in trees. “You’re not planning on digging where the bodies were, are you? Because, although Roman skeletons don’t weird me out, the thought of spending the night digging in what is basically a massacre site is a bit unsettling.”

  “It was a temple before the people from the villa were killed there,” Gunner said, giving me another smile.

  “Right, that’s a smile that knows something. That’s a smile that says, ‘I have a secret, and you don’t know it,’ which is only going to irritate me. Why are you smiling that smile, Gunner? What secret do you have, and why aren’t you telling me?”

  “I haven’t told you because my mother taught me it wasn’t polite to talk over people, especially people you like. And I like you. A lot. Are you done analyzing my quite innocent smile?”

  I made a face at him, and felt my psyche relax even more. I wanted to do a little dance of joy that I found a man with whom I could be myself without worry. “Innocent, my shiny pink ass. Spill.”

  “Shiny pink . . .” He stopped walking for a moment, his fingers white around the shovel handles. After a few seconds of deep breathing, but before I could ask him what was the matter, he shook his head. “No. I must focus on this right now. Later, my delicious little squab, later we shall address the issue of your attempting to distract me with your shiny pink ass, but until then, I want to do a little digging before Roger gets back from his dinner.”

  “Hullo. What are you two up to?”

  We stopped midway across the field. Daria had evidently been sitting on the floor of one of the deeper parts of a trench, and popped up now, dusting herself off.

  “Oh, hi. I thought everyone had gone off to have dinner. Gunner seems to think that we need to do a little digging.” I glanced at the man in question, unsure if he wanted me to mention more.

  “We do,” Gunner agreed.

  “For something in specific?” Daria started packing away her tools.

  “Good question.” I turned to Gunner. “OK, now you really do have to tell us what’s going on. What brilliant deduction did the baron have? Why are you worried about Roger? Did you find a mouse stone that gave directions?”

  “Better than that—I have a brother who loves word puzzles, and has a history degree.” He stopped, clearly loath to say more in front of Daria.

  “Ah,” I said awkwardly, wanting to help Gunner, but at the same time disliking his desire to keep Daria out of it. “That sounds . . . promising.”

  Daria looked from me to Gunner, and evidently realized what was going on. She gathered up her bag of tools, and said simply, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Happy treasure hunting.”

  “Thank you,” Gunner said, waiting until she was out of earshot to say, “That was a bit awkward.”

  “Only because you wanted to keep your news secret from her. She’s nice, Gunner, even if she did tattle to your brother on us.”

  “Which makes me hesitant to trust her overly far.”

  I took two of his shovels and marched alongside him. “That was personal drama. She’s probably just one of those people who likes to gossip about others. Archaeology is different, though. I’ve seen how dedicated she is to it. She could probably help us.”

  Gunner glanced at his watch. “Knowing the mayor and how he likes the sound of his own voice, we have at least two hours before Roger could return, and we’d be obligated to fill him in. Given that, I have to admit that it’s more fun to chase the treasure when it’s just us.”

  “True,” I agreed. “So what is it exactly that your brother said about the treasure?”

  I listened with growing excitement (and admiration for the baron’s deductive reasoning) as Gunner explained why he felt the treasure would be found in the grove. “But would this roof-decoration circle thingie survive?” I asked when he finished. “Wouldn’t the attackers go after the temple? I may not know a whole lot about English history, but if I was pissed at invaders to my country, and trying to destroy them, I’d sure as shooting go after their religious places along with their houses.”

  “Yes, they would have most likely burned the temple as well as the villas, and it may well be that the decoration was destroyed along with the rest of the structure. But I’m hoping that the treasure itself was protected and is just waiting for us to find it. Whoever hid it went to considerable trouble in a time of great stress to leave behind clues as to its whereabouts, so I assume he or she took precautions to ensure the survival of the treasure itself.”

  “I sure hope so,” I said. We made a detour to the far end of the field in order to go through a gate, and then turned northward to the small stand of trees that marked the temple ruins. “It would be really annoying to have all these great clues and not have resolution to the mystery. Who do you think left the stones?”

  “There you have me,” Gunner said, setting down my dig bag next to a large fragment of stone. I realized with a start that it was likely a chunk of the temple wall that had survived enough to push its way out of the dirt. “We’ll have to ask Elliott what he thinks. He’s clever that way. Now, then, let’s see if we can align the geophys results with the walls that were uncovered, so we can find the front of the building.”

  We consulted the black-and-white printout, which to me looked like nothing but a bunch of black blobs and lines and squiggly bits. Gunner eyed first the line of wall nearest to us, then the paper, rotating it several times before he nodded. “The door faces south, I think. Now, if you were a treasure, and your hiding spot over the mantel of the front door was destroyed, where would you fall?”

  “Why the front door?” I asked, looking around for something that screamed “treasure hiding spot.” “If you were hiding something, wouldn’t you put it where no one would see it?”

  “Ah, but you’re forgetting that our individual didn’t have much time to hide his belongings. He would have had to use what was at hand, and since the decorative medallions were easy to remove and could be replaced just as easily, it’s likely that’s where the treasure was placed.”

  “It seems kind of improbable to me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thrilled by the whole idea.”

  Gunner pulled some white fabric tape out of my bag and handed me a number of little wire stakes. “Let’s mark the foundation that hasn’t been excavated yet.”

  It took us about fifteen minutes to get the remainder of the temple physically notated, but by the time we were done, we had a pretty good outline of just how the building lay under the surface of centuries of dirt. The sun was starting its descent behind the trees when Gunner picked up a shovel.

  “Ready?” he asked, striking a pose at the area we had deduced was the front entrance.

  “Ready.” I stuck my shovel into the earth. “Let’s find something exciting to show Roger when he returns. Hopefully something we can rub Paul’s nondiseased nose in.”

  Gunner’s brow wrinkled. “That’s strangely specific, love.”

  “I know.” I put my foot on the shovel, and dug out a wad of dirt and grass. “It’s going to take me a while to work out my anger at him. Although I still think that somehow Paul has faked that report. Sandy might be many things, but a ho is not one of them.”

  We discussed the idea of Paul trying to deceive people with a false report during the time it took us to dig down a few feet, the shadows from the setting sun behind the trees stretching across the bumpy ground, reaching with long fingers into the trench we had cut. I figured we had a half hour of light at best before we’d have to stop, and was about to mention that when Gunner suddenly stopped digging and said, “Hmm.”

  “Hmm, what?” I looked up from where I was on my knees, using a trowel to scrape back the dirt. “Did you find the medallion thing?”

 
“No, but I’ve found something metal. Come and tell me what it looks like to you.”

  I knee-walked over to where Gunner was bent over an object. It looked like a yellowy white wire bent in a curlicue. “Holy crap, Gunner. Is that a bracelet?”

  “I believe so.” He was using a small paintbrush now to brush away the clots of dirt from the intricate spirals of metal. “That or an armlet. Good lord. That’s a coin next to it.”

  I squatted down next to him and scrabbled around in my bag until I found a toothbrush. I brushed around the curved edge of a lumpy black object. “How can you tell? It doesn’t look like a coin to me.”

  “It’s not one—it’s several coins.” He looked up, his eyes bright with excitement. “Do you know what I think we’ve found?”

  “The treasure?”

  “At least part of it. You work on the coins, and I’ll try to get the rest of this bracelet cleaned off.”

  “This is seriously the best thing I’ve ever found,” I said, brushing carefully around the blackened blob. And I’ll be damned if Gunner wasn’t right—along one edge it was possible to discern the rounded form of coins.

  “Do you have your camera, love?”

  “Yeah, it’s in my bag.” I gave it to Gunner, alternating between mentally squealing over the endearment and watching with much interest how he took photos of the objects before they were excavated. After a few minutes, he lifted the bracelet out and inserted it into a plastic bag.

  “Do you see this?” He pointed with the paintbrush to a curved shape in the dirt. “I believe that’s the outline of a round wooden box, probably used to hold the treasure. Damn, we’re going to need some light here soon. And this dull piece of metal here is most likely a metal band that held the box together. I think you’re right—this is the best thing I’ve ever found as well. Christ, here’s another one.”

  “Another bracelet?” I tried to look around his head to see what he had found. “Or more coins?”

  “Neither.” He grinned at me. “How about some gold earrings?”

  “You’re kidding!”

  He moved aside so I could see what he was bent over. Two blobs of gold metal lay bare, their heavy round bottoms narrowing up to looped wires.

  “Good god, those are gorgeous. I’d wear those! Wait, let me get the pictures this time. It’s good practice.” I got several of the artifact lying in situ, adding, “Holy mother of chicken mole, Gunner! We found it! We found actual treasure!”

  “We did indeed.” He laughed aloud when I grabbed him with one arm and kissed him. “And we had best stop now, lest we leave Roger with nothing to film.”

  “That’s fine. I feel guilty enough that we pulled the couple of things out already. But hooray! We found the treasure! Paul can just go suck a lemon, because we did it! We found it without him!”

  “It certainly looks that way.”

  “Ooooh, did I hear you say you found the treasure?”

  I jumped a few inches at the sound of the voice behind us. Daria stood with a thermos in hand, and two mugs. She held them up, saying, “I thought you guys would enjoy a quick cuppa.”

  “Oh, how nice. I’d love some tea. I never knew how thirsty you could get just digging around in dirt.” I accepted one of the mugs with tea, smiling gratefully.

  She filled the second mug and gave it to Gunner. “Is that gold?”

  “It is. Earrings. Aren’t they pretty?” I told her. “And look, Gunner found a gorgeous spiral bracelet, although I don’t know what it’s made from.”

  “Silver,” Gunner said. “And there’s another one below the earrings. See the edge of it?”

  “Man alive, this is just like never-ending treasure!” I took more photos, adding, “Roger will crap himself when he finds out what we discovered.”

  “This is terribly exciting! I can only imagine what Paul will have to say when he sees the results. Shall we toast your find?” She poured a little tea in the cap of the thermos and held the cup aloft. “To the Ainslie treasure hoard, and those who found it!”

  “Nicely put,” I said, and took a big swig of lukewarm tea. It trickled down my suddenly parched throat, prompting me to drain the rest of the mug. Gunner sipped at his tea, thanking Daria as he set the mug aside, spilling a bit of it on the spoil pile. He shifted it to a safer distance, and contemplated the trench before us.

  “You’re welcome. Paul arranged for some tea, since he knew I stayed behind to do some work, but I thought you guys would like to share it. I didn’t know we would be using it to toast a celebration, or I would have brought something a bit more dignified!”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a good cup of tea,” Gunner said, bent over another piece of jewelry—a brooch, I thought, since there appeared to be a broken pin attached to it.

  Daria knelt next to us, admiring the find. We didn’t want to excavate any more treasure, sure that Roger would want to film the rest of the items being removed, but we all agreed that it wouldn’t hurt to do a little digging in the area surrounding the find.

  The sun burned red as it slid downward, forcing us to stop after about twenty minutes of brushing away dirt. We hadn’t found anything else, but the metal of treasure still clutched by the earth glinted temptingly.

  “It’s like an endless pit of goodies,” I said, stifling a yawn. “And there’s more down there.”

  “That there is. I can make out at least two more bracelets, and more rings, not to mention that mass of coins that has corroded into a blob of metal,” Gunner answered with a yawn of his own.

  “This is so exciting.” Daria stifled a yawn, too. “How many items altogether, would you say?”

  “There’s no way of telling. Do you see—” He paused to yawn again, giving his head a little shake as if to wake himself. I knew just how he felt—I was in the grips of a growing sense of sleepiness that I couldn’t seem to shake. “Do you see this? It’s the other side of the metal tape, which means that the wooden box was only about so . . . wide. But we don’t know how deep. . . .” He yawned once more, which just triggered me into yawning, and the next thing I knew, Daria was saying something in a slow, hesitant voice that I didn’t seem to be able to take in.

  “Lorina?” I heard Gunner ask, his voice thick. “I think . . . lord . . . I think we’ve been . . .”

  I blinked several times, trying to get my eyes to stay open, but they refused. I seemed to slide into a warm, black pool, but before I went under, I managed to finish Gunner’s sentence with one single word. “Drugged,” I said, and curled up next to the treasure, one hand draped protectively over it.

  Chapter 20

  “Gunner.”

  The voice came from a long way away. Possibly a different planet. What was Lorina doing on another planet?

  “Gunner, wake up. Oh man, my head.”

  “I think I may vomit,” another voice said. It was female, and vaguely familiar, but not familiar enough that he could put a name to it.

  “Ugh. Don’t say that, or I will, too,” Lorina said, and he felt someone give his shoulder a little shake. “Gunner, I know you’re alive, because you were making snorting noises just a few minutes ago. Good god, I feel awful. Wake up so you can pamper me and make me feel better. Gah. Dr. Anderson would have my hide if she ever heard me say that.”

  He cracked one eye open, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The light shot into his brain with the velocity and effect of a laser cutting through butter. “Christ,” he swore, and closed his eye.

  “No, but I know how you feel.” Lorina pried open one of his eyelids, and peered at him with concern. “Assuming, that is, that you feel like you’ve been run over by a herd of elephants, following which you were beaten by several anvils, and possibly licked some hallucinogenic frogs.”

  He opened his eyes again. “You’ve done frogs, too?”

  Her eyes widened. “No. I was speaking metaphorica
lly. Wait, you have?”

  “Just once.” He rubbed his forehead, and slowly sat up. He had been lying on the floor of what appeared to be a disused barn. “It wasn’t an experience I am eager to repeat. Where are we? What happened? Who is Dr. Anderson? And who is about to vomit?”

  “We’re in a barn, I think. There appears to be hay in a loft over there. The door’s locked, though, so we can’t get out. We were drugged, and that was Daria who said she was feeling sick.”

  “Drugged?” He took stock of his body. Nothing seemed to hurt, although he was feeling less than fit. “Who the hell drugged us?”

  “That is a very good question.” Lorina’s eyes were half-closed, as if she had a hard time staying awake. Gunner knew just how she felt. There was nothing more that he’d like at that moment than to go to sleep for about ten years. Possibly twenty. “We—Daria and I, that is—we think the tea was drugged, since that’s the only thing that all three of us had.”

  “The treasure!” Gunner said, memory returning to him. He got to his feet with a lot less grace than was normal, and held out a hand for Lorina. “We’ve got to tell Roger and Thompson so that they can fetch the treasure and take it to the conservation room. They’ll want to stabilize the metals before they are exposed to too much air.”

  “Too late,” Lorina said wearily, and took the hand he offered, rising and brushing off dirt from the packed-earth floor. “Daria says she remembers hearing someone before she passed out. I’m willing to bet that they took the few things we excavated, and most likely the other stuff we were starting to uncover.”

  He rubbed his head again. “Are you saying that we were knocked out so that someone could steal the treasure?”

  “It looks that way.” Lorina looked sympathetically at him. “The big question is, who would do that? Who doesn’t give a damn about sharing the find with the world?”

  “Thompson,” Gunner said, automatically picking the most annoying person on the dig at the same time he massaged the back of his neck.

  “Who has such a lack of respect for archaeology that he’d blatantly keep items of such great value from the public?”