The Raja's Lost Treasure

by Garrett Drake

  THE RAJA'S LOST TREASURE

  A Richard Halliburton Adventure

  GARRETT DRAKE

  For Janel, for introducing me

  to Halliburton and for our

  shared wanderlust

  “Let those who wish have their respectability — I wanted freedom, freedom to indulge in whatever caprice struck my fancy, freedom to search in the farthermost corners of the earth for the beautiful, the joyous, the romantic.” — Richard Halliburton

  Prologue

  April 14, 1581 AD

  Kabul

  MAN SINGH SIGNALED to his top lieutenant and waited for the sound of splintering wood. Several soldiers clutched a battering ram as they broke into a sprint toward the palace doors. When contact was made, the door shattered and allowed Man Singh’s men to stream inside. But instead of standing aside and watching the carnage unfold, Singh charged ahead, wielding his sword as an active participant in the blood letting.

  Swords clashed, echoing throughout the entryway. Up and down the staircase leading to the emperor’s chambers, men engaged in individual battles, almost all of them ending quickly with a body tumbling toward the ground floor. And Singh’s warriors emerged victorious in the majority of the skirmishes.

  When it was clear that the invaders held the upper hand, the commander of the palace guards ordered his men to stand down. They placed their weapons on the floor and surrendered.

  Singh ascended the stairs to address the fallen leader.

  “Coward,” Singh said before driving his dagger through the man’s chest.

  Singh knelt next to the dying leader and wiped the bloodied blade on his garment.

  “Where is he?” Singh asked.

  The man gasped as he tried to speak. After realizing he would be unable to talk, he cut his eyes toward the large doors behind him.

  “Your assistance has earned you a quicker death,” Singh said before slitting the man’s throat. Seconds later, his body fell limp.

  Singh stood and motioned for his guards to assemble near the doors. He swung them open and strode inside. Cowering in the corner was Mirza Hakim, the governor of Kabul who had been declared the emperor of the Mughal Empire. Without anyone to protect him, he shrank away, bracing for the tip of a sword to run him through.

  “Stand up,” Singh ordered.

  “I never asked for any of this,” Hakim said as he rose to his feet. “I never meant to anger Akbar. Yazdi insisted on making me Emperor.”

  “Silence,” Singh said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t even care why you did what you did. Akbar will be the one to decide your fate, not me. However, there is something I need to know.”

  “Anything, anything,” Hakim said, his face twisted with fear.

  “Where is the castle’s treasure?”

  “I will show you,” Hakim said, gesturing for Singh to follow.

  Singh ordered all but one of his men, Malik, to remain in the palace, temporarily placing his lieutenant in charge.

  After a short walk down the corridor, the three men descended a back stairwell and reached the castle keep several flights later.

  “What do you want with this treasure?” Hakim asked. “When Akbar arrives, it will be his anyway.”

  Singh shook his head. “You think Akbar will ever trust anyone in this region again, especially with his wealth? You squandered the good faith your brother-in-law bestowed upon you. And I have no doubt that you will pay a steep price for your actions.”

  Hakim shrugged as he flung the door open. “I never wanted this anyway.”

  “What?” Singh asked, eyeing his captive closely. “The treasure? The power? The influence?”

  “None of it,” Hakim said. “This was never going to end well, and I only went along with this coup because Yazdi didn’t have the courage to declare himself the Moghul Empire’s emperor. And he also believed his ploy would be a way to escape punishment if Akbar decided to crush the rebellion.”

  “And here we are,” Singh said. “You will die for your sins against the empire. You should have let Yazdi find another pawn.”

  Hakim gestured for the men to proceed inside. “We all choose a path and must deal with the consequences. You seem to be choosing an interesting one right now.”

  Singh glared at Hakim. “If you say anything about this to Akbar, he won’t believe you.”

  “I won’t need to say a word,” Hakim said. “The truth always comes out.”

  Singh chuckled. “Not if you bury it deep enough.” He turned toward Malik. “Go get six of your most trustworthy men—men who can be bought for the right price—and transport these jewels back to the castle in Jaipur.”

  “You’re a fool, and you’re making a big mistake,” Hakim said.

  “The mistake would be leaving the spoils of our conquest here and allowing Akbar to enrich himself without doing anything to squash the uprising against him. He only seeks to give me titles, but what I want are the riches that should go along with it.”

  “Akbar will find out one way or another.”

  A wry grin spread across Singh’s face. “He’ll have to tear my castle apart to prove such a claim. And I swear on my allegiance to the empire that he’ll never find a single jewel.”

  Singh knelt down and scooped up the jewels, his eyes widening as he watched the glittering fortune sift through his fingers.

  Chapter 1

  April 1922

  Just off the coast of Ceylon

  RICHARD HALLIBURTON SHIFTED on the wooden crate as he leaned in to hear Old Ed spinning a yarn that arrested the attention of every seaman within earshot. In the distance, a storm rumbled on the starboard side, but no one seemed concerned at the moment. With all their duties completed for the day, the crew of the Gold Shell, a tanker bound for Calcutta, convened on the top deck to cool off as they swapped stories. Richard quickly figured out that the man known as Old Ed had long since established himself as the ship’s master storyteller. And this particular anecdote he promised to be, perhaps, his best one yet.

  Old Ed explained that he was once serving on a schooner from Nova Scotia with a fellow sailor named McAlister—or Mac, as Ed preferred to call his friend. One night when they were nine miles from port, reckless behavior by the captain while engaged in a race with a rival ship resulted in Mac plunging into the water after a boom hit him. Instead of stopping to save Mac, the captain cruised ahead. Left to drown, Mac defied the odds and swam to the port, reaching it without anyone’s help. Mac’s first order of business was to get a weapon. Once he did, he prepared for his meeting with the captain. And the next morning, Mac found the man who’d left him for dead.

  “Mac walked straight up to him,” Old Ed said, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, “called him a damned murderer, and right before everybody—”

  A large explosion rocked the Gold Shell. Richard teetered on his box and tried to keep his balance before a wave of heat forced him to dive to the ground. Men all around him shouted and yelled as they scrambled back and forth across the deck. Richard’s ears rang, the pressure causing a painful headache. He staggered to his feet and composed himself so he could help squelch the raging fire that had engulfed the back portion of the tanker.

  A sailor clanged the fire alarm, which didn’t even faze Richard.

  Like that noise is going to make anyone move faster.

  He turned and joined the line of men forming a bucket brigade along the starboard side of the deck. Those closest to the blaze only unshielded their faces to douse the flames lurching skyward.

  Richard hustled pails along, reaching for the next one almost as soon as he let one go.

  “I bet you wish you would’ve taken one of those fancy ships now,” shouted Slim, a sailor positioned ju
st behind Richard.

  “And miss this excitement? Never,” Richard replied.

  Crewmen at the front yelled out directions to the men at the back, urging them to work more quickly. Richard was concerned as it was, but he soon realized that perhaps he didn’t grasp just how dire the situation was based off the worried expressions worn on each sailor’s face. He increased his pace to help accommodate the urgent cries near the front and said a quick prayer underneath his breath.

  Richard grabbed a bucket and was in the middle of passing it when he found himself sliding backward across the deck. He crashed hard several meters away before scrambling back to his feet. When he figured out what had happened, he saw a man with a knife engaged in a fight with Slim.

  Richard didn’t recognize the man at first, but Old Ed had mentioned how large the crew was and it would be “damn near impossible” to learn the names of everyone aboard. However, Richard raced over to help out his friend.

  Wielding his dagger, Richard sprinted straight toward the assailant and slashed at him, drawing blood on his bicep.

  The man screamed out in pain before uttering a few words in a foreign language. Richard recognized it right away.

  A German Reichswehr assassin.

  While the German was distracted with pain, Slim delivered a few blows to the man’s head before he collected his wits and re-engaged. As he studied the combat, Richard chose his moment to make another run at the German.

  “I’ve got this,” Slim said as he glanced at Richard.

  Richard ignored the comment and raced toward the two men. This time, he took a flying leap, aiming for a decisive tackle. He lowered his shoulder and buried it in the German’s side just above his waist. Both of them tumbled to the ground and skidded along the deck away from the fire.

  As they clambered to their feet, the assassin swiped at Richard’s chest. He avoided any contact but lost his balance and fell backward in the process. The German wasted no time in pouncing his target. Just as the Reichswehr soldier was about finish his assignment, Slim smacked the man in the head with a bucket. He tumbled aside, dropping his knife as he fell.

  Richard seized the opportunity to reverse his fortunes and pinned the German down on the deck.

  “Go ahead and finish him,” Slim said.

  Richard took a deep breath and prepared to plunge his knife into the man’s chest when a secondary explosion rocked the ship. The German squirmed free and kicked at Richard, who stumbled but quickly regained his balance.

  A big wave swept across the deck, sending several sailors sprawling, including Richard, whose dagger was swept away. The water pushed Slim to the starboard side, while the German slipped toward the edge of the port side.

  Richard rushed over to help Slimas he clung to the rail with both hands.

  “I’m fine,” Slim said. “Go get that man before he kills one of us.”

  Another wave crashed into the side of the ship. Slim’s left hand slipped, leaving him holding onto the vessel’s railing with just his right.

  Richard glanced over at the German. He was braced for another thrashing from the roiling sea.

  “Go,” Slim pleaded. “I can pull myself up.”

  Richard ignored Slim and reached down to grab his hand. However, Slim’s grip gave way and he let go of the bar. Richard acted quickly enough to clamp down on Slim’s wrist with both hands, securing him before he fell into the water. Slim threw his legs over the side and crashed onto the deck in a heap next to Richard.

  “Nice catch,” Slim said, his chest still heaving from the experience.

  Richard nodded before looking across the ship toward the place where he’d last seen the German. He was gone.

  Richard staggered to his feet and tried to maintain his balance as the vessel rose with another swell. He clung to a nearby ventilation tube and scanned the area. The bucket brigade had broken down, and thick black smoke billowed skyward from the stern, though the flames didn’t appear to be as high. Once the Gold Shell received a momentary reprieve, crew members hustled to their feet to finish squelching the fire.

  Richard wanted to help, but he was more concerned with finding the Reichswehr agent who had infiltrated the ship. Slim placed a hand on Richard’s shoulder, making him jump. Richard spun around and prepared to take a swing when he stopped.

  “You’re a wee bit jumpy, aren’t you?” Slim asked as he threw his hands in front of his face.

  “Wouldn’t you be?” Richard replied.

  Slim nodded. “Given the circumstances, I probably would. But whoever that man was, he’s not here now.”

  “We’ve got another week before we reach Calcutta. You think I’m gonna sleep a wink until we get there knowing that he’s still on board?”

  “I’ll help you look for him after we get this fire out. None of this will matter if our ship goes up in flames.”

  Richard nodded. “You have a point. Just keep an eye out for him, will you?”

  “Of course,” Slim said before gesturing toward the reforming bucket brigade.

  Richard stepped right back into line and continued to pass water up toward the front of the blaze, which appeared to be under control. After ten minutes, Old Ed staggered back down the line. He stopped and stared at Richard.

  “Come with me,” Old Ed said. “I need your help with something.”

  Richard remained grounded, keeping pace with the rest of the brigade.

  “It wasn’t a suggestion,” Old Ed said.

  Richard nodded and spun around to face his fellow seaman. “What do you need?”

  “We need to get something to clean up the oil on the deck. There are some sandbags below that I want you to carry up for me. My back is killing me. I think I did something to it during the explosion.”

  Richard followed Old Ed, talking as they went.

  “Does anyone know what caused the blast?” Richard asked.

  “Right now, your guess is as good as anyone’s,” Old Ed replied. “We can worry about what—or who—started it once we get it out. Do you have a theory?”

  “I think someone sabotaged the ship,” Richard said.

  Old Ed froze and then turned toward Richard. “What makes you think that?”

  “Have you noticed any suspicious-looking characters on board since your last stop in port?”

  Old Ed threw his head back and laughed. “This is an oil tanker, kid. There’s not a man aboard who doesn’t seem suspicious to me in some form or another. I wouldn’t trust a single one of these men to spend five minutes with my twenty-year-old daughter.”

  Old Ed strode toward the ladder and gestured for Richard to descend it.

  “Okay, let me rephrase that then,” Richard said as he climbed down. “Have you noticed anyone who looks extra suspicious?”

  Old Ed hunched over, peering down the hatch with a slight smile leaking from the corners of his mouth. “Aside from you?”

  “I’m serious,” Richard said.

  “Well, I’m probably not the best person to ask since I’m suspicious of everyone. I’d question my own mother if she were on this vessel.”

  Richard decided to drop his questioning since he wasn’t getting anywhere with Old Ed. “Where are these sandbags?”

  “Look against the far wall. They’re stacked about chest high.”

  Richard scanned the room and spotted the pile. He hoisted a bag onto his shoulders and carried it up the ladder before slinging it onto the deck.

  “Where do you want this?” he asked, his head poking up out of the hatch.

  “Slide it onto this dolly for me, will ya?” Old Ed asked.

  Richard positioned the sack of sand to Old Ed’s liking before descending the rungs. “How many more of these do you want again?”

  “At least a dozen. Just keep bringing them.”

  Richard turned and hustled toward the stack, but before he reached it, he was met with stiff blow to his chest that knocked him on his back. Stunned but recovering quickly, Richard scrambled to his feet. In front of hi
m stood the German, crouched over, wielding a crowbar, and ready to swing again.

  Weaponless and backed against a wall, Richard realized he needed to do something to reverse his situation and gain the upper hand.

  Richard jumped back to avoid another direct blow. Then he shuffled to his left, placing his back to the large stack of sandbags.

  The Reichswehr agent recoiled with his crowbar and took another wild swing at Richard, who dodged contact by ducking. The prong from the German’s weapon stuck firmly in the sand. As he tried to yank free, Richard grabbed the bar with his right hand while scooping up a fistful of sand with his left. He flung the sand into his attacker’s eyes, causing him to loosen his grip on the bar.

  Richard kicked the man backward and took control of the iron. The German lost his grip and fell down before scrambling to his feet. Darting up the ladder, he sought escape on the deck. But Richard was determined not to apprehend the assassin this time.

  When Richard resurfaced, he found Old Ed lying on the ground and holding his head.

  “Where did he go?” Richard asked as he scanned the deck.

  Old Ed moaned. “He ran toward the fire.”

  Richard caught a glimpse of the German racing away. “Slim, Old Ed needs some help.”

  Slim rushed over. “What happened?”

  “I got attacked again,” Richard said. “I’m going after him. And this time, I’m going to finish it.”

  The brief respite of calm seas dissipated as the ship began to roll up and down over the waves, causing Richard’s pursuit to be slowed. He staggered toward the stern where the fire appeared controlled though still burning.

  Richard scanned the area and struggled to see his attacker in the glow of the flames. The sound of thundering footsteps at Richard’s back arrested his attention. He turned around in time to see the German take a flying leap.

  Richard didn’t have time react as the force of the hit sent the two men tumbling along the deck. When they skidded to a stop, Richard rolled on top of the German and tried to use the crowbar to pin him down. But the attempt failed as the agent muscled the bar just high enough above his chest that he was able to scoot aside.