“Let’s just suppose you’re right about this, and, against all odds, your Edwardian ancestor really did bury everything here. It still leaves us a pretty big problem.”
“It leaves us with many,” Ben agreed. “None of which can be disregarded.”
“Well, how about for now we concentrate on the most important. There’s almost zero visibility down there.”
“Chris is an experienced diver. He knows what he’s doing. Besides, thanks to TF he’s got directions.”
“Even if he follows your directions and gets a reading, he’ll have no way of making out what it is down there.”
“Well, I guess that makes us extra fortunate Mr Kernow here has a very good metal detector. Thanks to him, Chris will be able to tell the difference between ferrous and non-ferrous. If he gets a low reading, he’ll know to ignore it. If it’s better, we’ll know it’s worth checking out.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something? Emeralds are gemstones. Not metal.”
“True. But the locks on the chest should be metal.”
“Even if he finds it, it’s anyone’s guess how deep it is. Do you really expect him to get it out alone?”
“No, I don’t,” Ben agreed, removing his jacket. “Which makes it all the more fortunate we have a second suit.”
*
The detector made a sudden, sharp whistling noise, a different pitch to those he had heard before. Chris was getting a reading on the display. Even with his helmet torch, he couldn’t read the symbols, but the sounds indicated the presence of metal. He had already heard two signals, but on Kernow’s advice, he had dismissed them both. He estimated the number of steps he had taken since the archway must be getting close to 110.
“I’m getting something here.”
Kernow responded almost immediately. “What do you hear?”
“Not sure exactly. It’s definitely higher than the other two. Sounds non-ferrous.”
Alongside Kernow, Ben was now suited up, prepared for a quick launch. “Chris, it’s Ben. What you got?”
Chris dived deeper, closing in on the floor. Visibility was getting worse; he could see fragments of debris continuously passing by, caught up in the movement of the water.
“Got a lot of distractions down here, Ben. Almost as if the ground has been disturbed.”
“You mean recently?”
“Could just be some kind of vegetation. Either that or someone used to dump garbage here.”
Ben placed his arms through the upper part of his dry suit and brought the flap up over his head. “Can you see anything else?”
“Can’t even see my legs.”
Chris knew he was close to the bottom; he felt the ground with his hands before easing himself into a standing position. He swept the ground with the detector slowly and heard the same bleeps again. Placing the indicator panel of the metal detector in the line of his head torch, he saw two of the detector’s five categories were marked.
Relics and coins.
He manoeuvred himself to a crouching position and attempted to concentrate on the area in question. As he did, the sounds went crazy.
“Definitely something here all right.” He felt the ground with his hands, concentrating on the area where he had heard the noise. Something sharp and wooden was sticking out from the ground like a jagged rock.
He felt around the area carefully, descending further. The ground beneath him was thick, unstable; he feared that he was descending into heavy vegetation. Lowering his head, the light of his torch cutting crisply through the dark water, he noticed the rugged outline of something box shaped, possibly with an arched lid. His excitement building, he felt it carefully, exploring the surface with both hands. He detected wood, probably oak. Then metal. Hinges.
A keyhole.
“Ben, get down here. I think I’ve found it.”
45
Ben returned the microphone to Kernow and headed for the Great Pool. He followed Chris’s example and walked out until the water rose above his head before starting to swim, doing his best to maintain a straight line.
He saw light after about four metres, a dim flicker that he could have easily missed had he not been paying close attention. Diving all the way to the bottom, he saw the dark silhouette of Chris’s borrowed dry suit illuminated by the reflections of the torch on the seabed.
Chris had seen him; he gave Ben a thumbs-up before getting down on one knee. On reaching the bottom, Ben saw what appeared to be a wooden chest sticking out about halfway above the ground, its exterior encrusted with a heavy layer of dirt and grime. He lined himself up opposite Chris and attempted to lift it, failing.
The bottom remained encased within the sediment.
Ben knew their only option was to pull it out from the shore.
*
Juliet was standing on the shoreline with her arms folded. Her body ached from the effects of recent flights; her mind was tired from so much travelling and little sleep.
Much had happened since Ben had disappeared. The line of bubbles she had seen appear intermittently on the surface had increased in volume since Ben had gone down. That coupled with the occasional communication with Kernow over the radio waves reassured her that all was well.
Chris re-emerged less than ten minutes later, claiming that they had found something too heavy to be carried out. He had since returned to the water, this time armed with a long piece of rope that Kernow had retrieved from his boat, along with a replacement air tank. Kernow had tied the other end of the rope to the body of a sturdy tree a safe distance from the water.
For the last few minutes, both he and Colts had been pulling hard at it.
She saw another large splash close to the water’s edge, followed by the emergence of two divers in dry suits. Chris came out first, standing upright and dragging a chest-sized container through the water and across the muddy shoreline.
Ben brought up the rear.
She met them on the shoreline, where Colts waited excitedly. The first thing she saw was a wooden container covered in mud.
“You weren’t kidding about a graveyard for junk.”
Ben removed his mask, panting as his body readjusted to being back out of the water. “What were you expecting it to be, jewel-encrusted?”
Ignoring him, she continued to move her hands gently over the mysterious box, immediately regretting handling it without gloves. The outer layer was wet and slimy; dirt came loose instantly.
Below it, she detected a firmer, crustier layer.
“What you need here is a pressure hose.”
“I’m sure if you ask in the visitor centre, they’ll be only too happy to hand one over.” Colts smiled as he moved alongside her, armed with a large towel provided by Kernow. He wiped the area around the hinges vigorously, revealing two badly corroded pieces of metal and an equally worn keyhole.
“I don’t suppose either of you two numbskulls had the key anyway?” Colts asked.
Ben shook his head. “I don’t suppose Mr Kernow here has a crowbar on hand?”
“Or an axe?” Chris added.
“Not with me, I’m afraid,” Kernow replied. “Got a few good hacksaws back at the boathouse.”
“We’re gonna need something powerful to get it open.”
A voice spoke from behind them. “Fortunately, my friends, that will not be necessary.”
*
Ben turned slowly. A cold, icy feeling enveloped his entire body, as though someone had stepped on his grave. The voice was cold and clear. Refined but masculine. It was familiar, instantly recognisable, but not belonging to anyone he had spoken to recently.
He knew the new feeling of coldness had nothing to do with the dampness of his dry suit.
Cortés was standing with his back to the woodland, his arms folded, his eyes a fixed stare. His facial hair had grown longer since Ben had seen him last, his face slightly drained. Eduardo appeared alongside him, more reserved and carrying a large rucksack.
The boy looked as though he had see
n a ghost.
“I suggest you both free yourselves from your diving suits before too much time is allowed to pass. It is not good to keep them on out of the water.”
Ben remained still. Though his head protection was rolled back behind his neck, his mask and breathing apparatus lying redundant on the floor, the dry suit still clung snugly to his body.
“You know, I had a feeling I’d run into you again before too long. We never did get to say goodbye properly in Cabañas. I hear you’ve been sightseeing.”
Juan raised a quizzical eyebrow, not entirely sure what Ben meant. “A strange statement by a man drenched from head to toe in water. Let us leave this place and return to my yacht. There, you may shower and refresh yourself. Afterwards we can chat in private.”
“Chat in private? Like you chatted in the monastery? I saw your ex-wife in Salamanca this morning. Seemed pretty pissed off, to tell you the truth.”
“You are a considerate friend to be concerned with the state of my marriage, Ben, but do not trouble yourself with such matters. The slimy eels are no longer my priority, nor should they be yours. Only one obstacle remains before access to the hidden city can at last be achieved.” He glanced at the cargo close to Ben’s feet. “Perhaps at last congratulations are now in order.”
“For the museum on St Mary’s maybe.” Juliet moved in front of the chest, alongside Ben, partially blocking Juan’s view. “Unlike some of us, there are people here who understand the correct way of dealing with discoveries of historical importance.”
Juan smiled at Juliet. “Perhaps congratulations are in order for more than one reason.” He turned to face Ben. “As I told you in Valladolid, only a foolish man makes life complicated.”
Juliet laughed, astonished. Never in her life had she felt more conflicted. “You know, Ben has been telling me all about your exploits in Spain. You really do sound rather fascinating. I’m Juliet Waters.”
Cortés smiled again. “You may dispense with the pleasantries, they are not necessary. Three times now, Ben, our paths have crossed, and now a situation arises that has the potential to be of mutual benefit. My dear father once told me once is a coincidence, twice irregular. But three times can only be a sure sign from the maker. Two of the stones have already been found. This morning, only three remained. Perhaps at last the journey is at an end.”
Ben glanced down at the chest, suddenly concerned for its content. “Well, I’m sorry to break the news to you, Juan, but the stones have all disappeared. Turns out TF had his own copy of your ancestor’s codex. We’ve already visited all the sites. Up till now, I’d actually been working on the theory you’d beaten us to it. I’m guessing that was your work on Fernando Colón’s tomb at Seville Cathedral?”
“You can also dispense with the diversion, Ben. I have told you already, our situation is one of mutual benefit. The tombs at Seville, Valladolid and Salamanca were cleaned out years ago. I would have thought your own ancestor might have left you a note.”
“What makes you think he was responsible?”
Cortés removed a large sheet of paper from his jeans, unfolded it and waved it in Ben’s face. “Though the original remains in my archives, I am sure you will find the photocopy of equal fascination.”
Ben gestured to Juliet. “Let her read it.”
“The prose is in Spanish.”
“That’s not a problem.”
“As you wish.” Juan passed her the photocopy, observing her appearance as he did so. The woman was different from the slimy eel; the man had chosen well for himself.
Juliet accepted the paper and squinted at the text, deciding against using her glasses. “The unenlightened again sit in darkness, their walls of metal rust. The tombs of sailors lie empty, their effigies turned to dust. They sail now forth through the blackness, to where no serpents dwell. From grave and sphere they departed, and the bottom of a well. Yours, TF Maloney.”
Juan smiled politely. “And the postscript, please.”
Juliet continued, “The wind of change keeps blowing, across the silver sea. Through waves and storms it leads them, to the isle of elder-tree. From prior’s great ruins to Tristan’s horse, to the legend’s home they’re gone. Like the moving finger that writ, by hand the stones moved on.”
Ben bit his lip, shocked. He looked at Colts, remaining quiet. It was obvious to him they were thinking the same thing.
The wording matched part of Colts’s translations of the final part of the codex.
“They were adversaries?” Ben asked Juan.
“Perhaps energetic competitors might be a more appropriate term. Despite his esteemed record as an amateur boxer, my great-great-grandfather Carlos was never cursed by a quick temper.”
“Unlike some in your family.” Ben folded his arms. “What brings you here? The poem you brought mentions nothing of a forwarding address.”
“Back in the olden days, it might interest you to know, this very place was known as the island of elder-trees.” Juan smiled wryly, glancing at the chest. “Too long have the heirlooms of the past remained buried. Surely it is about time we look upon their mysteries with our own eyes.”
“Very clever, Juan. But unfortunately things have changed since we saw you last. The secret of the old city is known to us. At first I was puzzled by why the British wanted its location to remain buried. Now I understand. Greed brought about the ruin of the empire. It’s only by the grace of God it has remained concealed.”
“I am a patient man, Ben, but like you I have my limits. Let us dispense with the nonsense now, and together we will discover them for ourselves. It would be a preference over the alternative, no?”
“You mean what you did to the old woman in the monastery?” Ben smiled humourlessly. “You never did tell me what really happened at that deserted mine. I guess you didn’t care to stick around long enough to tell me.”
“We have both been busy in the time we have been away. Like you, I have seen with my own eyes the tombs of the past emptied by intelligent hands; however, not everything was in vain. Two of the emeralds are already here with us. Should the box contain what we believe it does, the collection is now retrieved.”
Juan turned to Eduardo and took possession of his rucksack, removing the stones one at a time. A vivid shade of green shone from their exteriors like the brightest rays of sunlight on a perfect lawn. Both were slightly too large to fit in his hand and clearly of the same material. One, he noticed, was the shape of a bell, the other a trumpet.
“Now, at last, you can truly understand the reality of the situation. As we have seen in England, only together can the final door be opened.”
“Be a pretty wasted trip if you’re wrong.”
“I’m sure we can both agree, the time has come to discover the truth.” He gestured Eduardo nearer. “Open the chest. Let us all be put from our misery.”
Eduardo removed a crowbar from his rucksack and knelt close to the chest. After inserting the wedged end into the lock on the chest, he yanked down hard.
“Careful!” Juliet yelled. “That thing is antique.”
Eduardo looked back bitterly; Juan broke into a smile. Eduardo lined up the crowbar a second time and brought it down even harder.
Dirt and water spewed from the lid.
Everyone moved closer to the chest, Juan now standing alongside his nephew. A familiar golden glow shot out from the top of the interior, reminding Ben of what he had seen in Cornwall. Looking inside, he saw a large collection of coins; he picked up one and studied it. He smiled to himself.
He knew instinctively he was seeing what TF had discovered in the abandoned mine in Extremadura.
Three larger items were also visible among the coins, all separated by partitions and covered by thin fabric. Once the covering was removed, Ben saw three identically rich shades of green, all with the same vivid brightness of the two Juan had previously held. Their shapes were as expected.
A cup.
A fish.
A rose.
Juan knelt down beside the chest, removing them one at a time and gazing at them in silence before getting to his feet.
“So, it appears you were correct after all.” He waved the stones in Ben’s face and gestured him closer. “Hold out your hands.”
Ben took possession of the cup and the rose as between himself, Eduardo and Juan, the five stones were brought together for the first time. Joined as one, they formed what appeared to be a horseshoe-shaped island similar to the layout of St Lide’s but more exotic. A solitary mountain projected at a curved angle from the centre, surrounded on every side by forest.
To Ben, its features appeared typical of Central America.
“What’s it say on the bottom?” Colts asked. “The name?”
Cortés stared at him as if he had asked a rhetorical question. With the five bases shared between himself, his nephew and Ben, it was impossible to see without turning them over.
Juan looked at Colts. “Perhaps you would care to do the honours?”
Colts didn’t need a second invitation. With Juan remaining still, he turned them over one at a time. Letters appeared just as they had on the previous replicas.
L
Z
A
N
T
Á
What Ben saw left him speechless.
“Aztlán.” He turned to Colts. Even in comparison to his expectation of seeing the word Tollan, what he saw shocked him. “You knew?”
Cortés replied, “The location of the legendary isle is no secret. Just like the hidden monastery, for many years my ancestors have known the way.”
“You honestly think this makes a difference? I told you already, Juan, the emeralds are only part of the puzzle.”
“You’re wasting your time on this one, friend,” Colts agreed. “Been to the old city myself. Even if the doors to the inner sanctum are finally opened, there are still evils to be conquered that you just wouldn’t believe unless you saw them.”
Juan returned the recently discovered emeralds to the chest and approached Colts slowly. “In that case, I will be needing all the help I can get.” Finally he turned to Ben. “Together we will go to the New World. And see with our own eyes what our ancestors could only describe to us in our dreams.”
The Cortés Trilogy: Enigma Revenge Revelation Page 94