God of Thunder

by Alex Archer

  Apparently Frederick of Schluter was obsessed by the treasure story and went to Riga to find it. He and his men ran roughshod over the local villagers. Ozolini's journal describes the murders the baron committed, as well as the rape and torture of the villagers. Evidently Frederick was cruel and sadistic.

  Ozolini, as you'll see, was appalled by the baron's bloodthirsty ways. He documented the atrocities in this journal. I've marked the sections for you. Ozolini states his intention of presenting the case before Pope Innocent III, hoping to get Frederick of Schluter thrown out of the Teutonic order. He sent the journal by messenger while he came back by another route. Evidently he'd told Baron Frederick his intentions.

  As you'll doubtless remember from history class, Innocent III's reign was supposed to return the Catholic Church to power during his term. He succeeded and failed. There was enough political infighting going on during those years that the journal arrived and was promptly shelved.

  I found a few letters by archivists suggesting the pope take a look at the journal. Unfortunately, Innocent III had his hands full dealing with the fallout from the Fourth Crusade. He was totally ticked at how the crusaders handled the situation. They were supposed to open a way to the Holy Land. Instead, they attacked and eventually sacked Constantinople.

  As a result, the split between the Catholic West and Orthodox East became irrevocable, and the church's power was forever affected. Several more years of accusations and attacks on the church followed.

  It's no wonder that this journal was lost. Plus, I think Frederick of Schluter had friends in the church who searched for the journal. The archivist who championed the journal was eventually murdered. I looked him up in the papal histories. His murderers were never caught.

  As for Ozolini, he was killed by brigands not far outside the village where he'd lived his whole life. Personally, I believe Frederick of Schluter hired someone or masked his identity while he did it himself. Ozolini's death was recorded in a book kept by the father who kept the church there. I found that out when I visited.

  So the only person who's truly following this story now is you, Annja.

  On a more personal note, I fell in love with a woman. Believe it or not, I was smitten with her almost as soon as I laid eyes on her. There's something about falling in love at first sight that I never expected. I didn't believe it, either. My sisters tried to explain it to me, but I wouldn't listen. I was too busy chasing the past to live in the present, they said, and maybe they were right.

  Her name is Erene Skujans. She's a hedge witch in the community where I was staying. I know you know what a hedge witch is. But she's something more, too. I didn't find out the whole truth until it was too late.

  After I'd lived there for a few months, I discovered inadvertently who she truly was. I'd known she'd left the village for a while, but I hadn't known where she'd gone or what she'd done. Her grandmother before her had been the village hedge witch. Erene had been trained to take over for her. She didn't want to, and chose to run away. Personally, I could understand a teenage girl wanting to broaden her horizons.

  I met a man in town who told me that Erene was a professional thief and confidence woman. At first, I didn't believe him. But he had arrest records and photographs. The evidence was right there. He told me he was an international bounty hunter there to take her in. He said he'd been a policeman and had pursued Erene for a time, but he'd never caught her.

  I may be slow, Annja, and a little off my game when it came to this woman, but you can't ignore an oversight like that. She'd lied to me by omission. You can't take back something like that. One thing living with my family has always taught me is to always be truthful in a relationship.

  I left the next day. Erene had shown a lot of interest in the treasure, though I doubt it's there, but there might be other artifacts. I thought she was just excited to see me succeed. But now I don't think that was the case at all. Erene went back home to hide out and regroup after a particularly nasty failure.

  I had these books sent in secret to Uncle Michelangelo, then sent a more obvious package to your address in Brooklyn.

  Whatever's happened to me, make sure you take care of yourself. This find, if it's Viking treasure, I hope will be significant. But there are other people looking for it.

  While researching the facts in Ozolini's book, I contacted Baroness Schluter. She still lives in the family castle outside Vienna. I was surprised she knew as much of the story as she did, but I could also tell she was reticent to share much with me.

  Baron Frederick's vile treatment of the locals while in pursuit of the treasure was graphically described by Ozolini. If the story gets out today, there might be repercussions. The Schluter family remains a member of the Teutonic order, but that would probably change given the circumstances of Baron Frederick's service. He did manage to build a church, but he also filled a graveyard with victims.

  The baroness told me she'd see me burn in hell before the story of her ancestor came to light. I believed her. She's eighty-something years old and a scary old bat. Not to mention the grandson. Wolfram Schluter is aptly named. There's a hunger and evil in him that you can see. I found out later, while researching the family, that the barony is almost destitute. Greed has always motivated treasure hunters.

  As you'll see in Ozolini's journal, when Thor died, the belief is that he was given a Viking funeral. He was put in a small boat in the harbor and set on fire. No mention was made of what became of his hammer or the wealth he'd amassed.

  It's there, Annja, and I think I've almost found it. Hopefully you and I will be able to find it together. You were a lot better at site surveys than I was. As near as I can figure, there's a catacomb of old Roman graves somewhere out there that Thor used to hide his treasure.

  There was more to the letter, but it was of a personal nature. Annja didn't read it aloud. Mario had intended that part for her only, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  Continuing to leaf through the journal, Annja saw the book contained drawings of people and places, as well as maps of the general area. She shifted her attention to the second book.

  "Fellini was making a copy," Roux said.

  "Why didn't he just photocopy the original?" Stanley asked.

  Annja leafed through the second book. She noticed the change from the original notations to extra patches of narrative that Mario had written in.

  "Because he was annotating this copy," Annja realized. "Adding in details from his personal observations and on-site fact-finding."

  "In Riga?" Roux asked.

  "Outside Riga," Annja said. "He said he stayed in a village he guessed was near the original site where Thor landed and repelled the Vikings." She looked at Roux. "I need some time to read through this."

  Roux looked troubled. "We don't have a lot of time. There are others obviously seeking the same treasure."

  "They haven't found it yet," Annja reminded him. "We have some time."

  "It will take a while to set up a means to get out of Venice and to Riga. You can work en route."

  "Terrific," Annja said. "Generous much?"

  Roux scowled at her. "Sitting around isn't the way you do things, and you know it. Nor is it how I do things."

  "Okay," Annja agreed. "Guilty as charged." She was itching to be on the move herself.

  Chapter 33

  "What do you call this process again?" Stanley asked as he watched with avid interest.

  Seated in the opulent cabin of the yacht Roux had chartered in Venice, Annja stared at the photographs from aerial surveys Mario had accumulated. She had them spread out over the table, moving and shifting them as different points caught her interest.

  "It's called an archaeological field study," Annja replied.

  "These are geographical maps." Stanley sounded confused but eager to learn.

  Annja had heard that tone on several occasions in her career. First as a university student, then again from students in guest lectures or seminars that she had taught at dif
ferent times.

  "Geologists and archaeologists tend to use a lot of the same tools and information," Annja said. "We just interpret them differently. An engineer intending to build a factory or a building would look at everything in another way."

  "So would a city planner," Stanley said. "I did a book about a guy who was a city planner chasing a serial killer through the metro area he helped design. I had to learn a lot about building cities."

  "So did I." Annja sifted through the photographs and made some notes. "I think I may have found the original site of the Curonian village where Thor was supposed to have lived."

  "Where?" Stanley asked.

  "Here." Annja placed her finger on the coastline near Liepaja.

  "Not closer to Riga?"

  "The story that Mario was following has been told several times, and most of them agree that when the Vikings attempted to raid the Curonian village it was in early winter, after the first snows had started coming. Liepaja offers one of the only ice-free ports in the Baltic Sea."

  "The Vikings would have known this?"

  "The Norsemen would, yes. And they were Norsemen, not Vikings. Viking was an occupation, not a culture."

  Stanley nodded. "I try to get it right, but there's just so much to learn, and so quickly, when you're a writer. You have a choice of writing what you know about or trying to expose yourself and your readers to new information. It gets tough."

  "Archaeology is the same. I don't know everything. My training allows me to know where to start searching for answers faster than a layman. But I've seen people who have made a time period or a piece of real estate so important in their lives that they knew more than a lot of university-trained professionals."

  "So you like Liepaja because of the port."

  "I do."

  "Why not Liepaja itself?"

  "Liepaja didn't exist then. At least, not in name. But it held a large population. Fishing, trade and amber – which couldn't be found anywhere else in Europe – all made Liepaja a major crossroads."

  "It wasn't a prize Vikings would have targeted."

  "Not a lone crew." Annja pointed to a topographical map. "The physical ground sounds about right." She drew her finger along the map to a mark Mario had placed on the map. Neat handwriting spelled out "Erene's village."

  "That's where the girlfriend lived," Stanley said.

  "Yes. The elevation in the area is 120 feet above sea level. Plenty of room to put in a catacomb. Or they may be there naturally," Annja said.

  "Naturally? I was under the impression that catacombs were graveyards that had been built."

  "More often than not, catacombs were put in where caves existed. Excavation made the caves bigger and deeper. By the sixth century, though, most cultures had given up the practice of catacombs and were burying their dead in graveyards."

  "Are you looking for a graveyard or a catacomb?"

  "The history that Mario turned up indicated the presence of Roman soldiers garrisoned there to protect shipments along the Amber Road

  ."

  "I'm not familiar with the Amber Road

  ," Stanley said.

  "Amber was beautiful and rare in those days," Annja said. "Kings and queens used it in ornaments and paid a lot for it because it was so hard to get. The Roman warriors were there to keep bandits from hitting the caravans that left Riga and went down to Palanga, Lithuania."

  Stanley nodded.

  "Mario researched several documents and located the Roman fort." Annja opened the book Mario had copied and appended. "He also found a lot of stories about Roman artifacts that had been found in the area since that time."

  "That's important?" Stanley was taking notes on a legal pad.

  "When you're doing a field study," Annja said, "you want to consult books and journals written in the area as close to the time that you're researching. Tales that people in an area continue to tell each other and each successive generation are valuable. Other surveys and explorations of the area that might have been done are good. Even if the people conducting those weren't looking for the same things you were. All of those things help an archaeologist decide where to look for answers to a question."

  "You have to have a question?"

  "You don't have to, but it's better if you do. Then you use aerial photographs," Annja said.

  "I noticed there were several of those."

  "Mario got some of them from others, but some he took himself."

  Stanley looked at the collection of photos Annja pushed toward him. "These look really good. But he only looks like he was a hundred feet or so off the ground. I'm surprised they aren't blurred while flying that close."

  "He didn't take them from a plane," Annja said. "He used a kite."

  "A kite?"

  "You don't always get the equipment you need in the field," Annja told him. "The actors in movies always seem to acquire ground radar and other high-tech equipment just by making a phone call. In real life, especially when you're on your own, you have to improvise. Mario and I learned to take photographs using kites. A good camera equipped with a timer and you're good to go."

  "What are you hoping to find from the air?"

  "Shadow marks, crop marks, frost marks or soil marks."

  Stanley wrote furiously as Annja searched through the pictures to better illustrate what she was explaining.

  "Shadow marks are better suited to finding aboveground features rather than buried ones. I looked for shadow marks, but I didn't find any. Neither did Mario. But he did find crop marks." Annja pulled out a photograph and pushed it over.

  Stanley looked at the photo.

  "Here. These pictures were taken in the summer. Crop marks show a difference in growth patterns. Places where the ground has been worked or that have buried ditches will hold more water."

  "Promoting better crop growth because of the extra irrigation," Stanley said.

  Annja smiled. He was a fast learner. "Exactly. Places that have buried structures, or only had the walls left standing when dirt covered it, don't allow the same amount of irrigation."

  "The bigger the object, the more it affects the area."

  "Yes."

  "And what we're looking for is big."

  "That's right. Also, it's been partially found."

  Stanley looked at her.

  Annja took out more photographs. "The Roman soldiers stationed at the fort took advantage of a small cave system located nearby. According to the reports Mario found, the Romans located the caves while digging wells for water. They chose to open the caves and bury their dead."

  "They were stationed there long enough to get old and die?"

  "Some of the legionnaires were. A posting lasting several years wasn't uncommon. Rome was spread out in all directions. Swapping manpower around was a logistical nightmare. Also, there were bandit attacks and sickness that claimed lives."

  "What do you mean it's been partially found?" Stanley asked.

  Annja brought out more photographs that showed the excavation of the Roman catacombs. "They were found and explored by British tomb raiders in the 1920s. That's how a lot of the Roman artifacts that turned up in the village where Mario was staying got there. The tomb raiders kept whatever gold and silver they found, then used the trinkets to trade for beer and supplies."

  Stanley sat back on the couch. "If the catacombs have already been found, then there's no treasure there."

  Smiling, Annja said, "The grave robbers found the Roman catacombs, but I don't think they found Thor's final resting place."

  "Why?"

  "Because the hammer was never found."

  "It might never have existed," Stanley said.

  "The problem with archaeology is that you have to believe in something until you prove it or disprove it," Annja said. "Maybe we're just chasing a local legend. But it's been a persistent one. I'm going to believe the story for a while longer because I choose to." She picked up the original book Mario had "borrowed" from the Vatican City archives. "And then there
's this, from Ozolini's journal."

  Though he will not admit it because he is blinded by his own desperate greed, Baron Frederick of Schluter is a fool. He came here chasing improbable lies and legends of a Norse god who lived among Curonian fishermen and defended them against Norsemen.

  The legend says that Thor's people burned him at sea in a captured Norseman's ship. The baron will not hear of that, though. He chooses to believe that Thor was given a grave to sleep away all of time, and his fortune to sleep with him.

  I have talked to some who have talked to the Curonians, but not much has been said. They are still a warlike people and not open to friendship, only save enough to maintain trade. My father was alive when they killed the Catholic priests who served the small church by the old Roman fort.

  The priests weren't good men, but they were God's chosen. There was talk of forming an army and driving the Curonians from their village, but the Brotherhood of the Sword recently reclaimed that church. Those that were not killed by the German knights died in winter's cruel embrace. Thor may have saved them then, but their hero was not with them ten years ago.

  I was with one of those Curonian warriors when he was delirious with fever after taking a German arrow through his lung. My father was the physician and felt no man should be untended. I did not agree with him, but I did not disobey him when he bade me to help. Also, I was curious about those fierce warriors.

  The man coughed and spit up blood throughout the night while my father and I tried to care for him as best as we were able. I could tell that my father could do nothing for the Curonian. I had seen that helpless look on his face often enough.

  During the warrior's ravings, the Curonian said that he had been one of the men who put Thor in his final resting place. He talked to me as though I were his brother. He told me that the great warrior's treasures are hidden beneath those who are already dead.

  Though I am familiar with this area, having grown up here and lived all my life in this town, and I have known of some of the Roman graves that were disturbed, no one has ever claimed the sleeping god's bounty.