A Dubious Race
The Phoenician Stones
A Colton Banyon Adventure/Mystery #12
By
Gerald J. Kubicki & Kristopher Kubicki
Other Books by Gerald J. Kubicki
A Dubious Mission #1
A Dubious Secret #2
A Dubious Dream #3
A Dubious Terrain #4
A Dubious Plan #5
A Dubious Artifact #6
Books by Gerald J. Kubicki & Kristopher Kubicki
A Dubious Position #7
A Dubious Curse #8
A Dubious Crime #9
A Dubious Device #10
The Society of Orion Series
The Weapons #1
The Recovery #2
The Deception #3
License Note
This ebook is for your personal enjoyment.
It may not be re-sold.
A Dubious Race
The Phoenician Stones
Published by Gerald J. Kubicki & Kristopher Kubicki
Copyright ©2014 by Gerald J. Kubicki & Kristopher Kubicki
All rights reserved
This book is dedicated to all adventurers, both young and old
Prologue
1200 BC
A lone hunter stood silently in the dark and shadowy late afternoon woods. He had been hunting since the sun filled the sky that morning. He kept a keen eye on his prey as he slowly took an arrow from the bag that hung from his back and placed it in his long bow. The doe was within range of the weapon and unaware that a skilled hunter stalked her. The deer had glanced in his direction several times, but gave no indication that she would bolt. She had no hint of her plight. The hunter blended in with his surroundings.
Just one more kill and we will have sufficient provisions, the hunter thought as he began to pull back on the bow string. His sixteen man hunting party had already taken down four animals that day and most of the men had returned to the settlement to prepare for the great exodus. The hunter still had two men nearby. They served as protection for him and would help carry the bounty back to the settlement. They needed just one more kill. Then they would be able to leave their cursed homeland and be rid of the warring aggressive tribes who had constantly attacked them over the last twenty-four moons. The hunters’ people were dwindling in number, killed off by the attrition of a continuous war. They had to leave before it was too late. Their settlement could soon be overrun.
The hunter pulled harder on the bow spring as he took careful aim. He was determined to make this final kill. He was known for his strength and fearless tactics when fighting. He was the greatest warrior in the tribe.
The four elders had recently devised a great plan to save his people, but needed food to make it work. It was the hunters’ responsibility to gather the food. Nothing would stop him from completing that task. That was why he was given a new name — Austenco. It meant Chief of the people.
Just as Austenco set free his arrow, a sound resonated in the woods. It sounded like a rock hitting on another rock. The deer was suddenly startled. It immediately hopped off into the thick forest undergrowth. The arrow went wide of its mark and dug into a nearby tree with a twang.
Austenco quickly dropped to his knees. He tilted his head so he could better hear. He needed to find out where the sound had originated. He was no longer concerned about the missed prey; there would be other animals to kill. He was now concentrating on the sound in the deep woods. Sounds in the woods usually meant that the enemy was nearby.
Austenco instantly transformed from hunter to warrior. He motioned to his two men to remain silent as he tried to identify the direction of the noise. If they had to do battle, they were prepared to fight. All three men were dressed in full battle gear. They wore leather tunics and long pants. Their feet were protected by moccasins that allowed them to move stealthily through the heavy forest. Each man was adorned with three weapons. They carried a strong long bow with twelve sharp arrows, a battle axe, and a lethal-looking flint knife.
They also had protection. Each man wore a metal breast plate made of copper. Arrows shot at a distance could not penetrate to their vital organs. Their ancestors had come to this land as traders, but now they had become accomplished warriors by necessity.
Austenco heard the noise again. It came from behind them, back near where they lived. He instantly worried that the settlement was under attack. If it was, he had to be there. He was the most skilled warrior. He was also their leader. He motioned to his men and they took off running as fast as they could towards their village.
They ran with fear in their hearts, weaving through tall trees and hurdling small bushes in an attempt to head straight to their home. They knew to be silent. The only sound they made was the slight thumping of their feet, and the rapid intake of breath needed to keep up their speedy pace. They wanted to surprise their enemy and inflict heavy damage. It would happen soon, they were nearing the settlement.
But he quickly realized that something was not right. Austenco did not hear the vicious sounds of battle. There were no screams for mercy from women and children, no war cries of victory, and no clanging of metal on metal, just the sound of rock hitting rock. Am I too late? My people have been living here for over three hundred cycles of the sun. Is this the end? He quickened his pace.
When he broke into the clearing that surrounded his wooden longhouse he skidded to a stop to search and locate the enemy warriors. He needed to catch his breath and swiveled his head left and right, but he could not see any signs of an attack. The village seemed just as he had left it in the morning. People hustled all over the settlement. They carried belongings and food from their homes to men who were handlers. They transported the items to the six large ships anchored in the small harbor. The cove like bay was on the shore of the great lake called “Kitchigami” by the Ojibwe tribe, their enemy. The lake was as big as an ocean.
There were also hundreds of small canoes made from cedar. One large barge was resting on the shore. The fleet was readying to leave that night. Over four thousand people would begin the journey.
Austenco knew that the barge would be pulled by three ships with sails. There would also be sixty men on each ship rowing to speed them along. The hundreds of canoes would be filled with people who would also be towed by other ships. Some would attempt to paddle across the vast lake. He knew that it would be a dangerous three day journey across the sometimes turbulent lake waters and it was only the first leg of their escape. It would take them over six moons to reach their destination. But it would be worth it. The scouting teams had returned two moons ago and assured him that the new home for the tribe was both in a warmer climate and full of game. They would succeed there.
Suddenly, he heard the clanging again. It came from the center of the village. Austenco and his two men set off to find the source of the unwanted noise. They jogged past several longhouses and soon came to the center of the bustling compound. There, seated on a wooden stump, sat a man who was pounding on a rock. He was making lines on a larger rock. He was the cause of the noise. Austenco knew him.
Austenco spoke to the man roughly. “Gawonii, what are you doing?” The old man was the tribe’s medicine man. He was also one of the four elders — the wisest of all the people in the village. His name meant; “he is speaking”
“I am writing a message,” Gawonii replied without looking up and continued to pound on the rock. “It will tell people where we have gone.”
“A message?” Austenco questioned w
ith alarm. “Why would you leave a message? What if our enemy were to find it? They would come after us.”
“Don’t be silly, Austenco,” the old man replied with a wave of his hand. “I am writing the message in our old language. The Ojibwe will not be able to read it. They do not have a written language. They’ll just think of it as someone’s foolish markings.”
“Then who is it for?” The chief, Austenco, did not understand why the elder would waste his time writing while there was so much to be done.
“Our people will someday return. They’ll need to know where we have gone,” the wise man patiently replied.
“But they have forgotten us, Gawonii,” The chief retorted in frustration. “We haven’t seen one of our ships for over five sun-cycles. They no longer care about us. We’ve had to adopt the ways of the natives to survive.”
“They may be at war themselves and unable to promote trade at the moment,” Gawonii responded calmly. “The last readings they sent, written on the Egyptian paper, said as much. Their war will eventually end. They will eventually come,” he said wisely. The four elders were the only ones who could still read and write in the tribe’s old language. The trading ships had always brought papyrus scrolls with news. The last scrolls had said that trouble was brewing in their homeland. The elders had decided to keep that secret to themselves.
“Why are you so sure?”
“Austenco, we are but an outpost in this new world. We are a major source of the product we trade. Our ancestors were sent here to mine tsi-yi, the same metal used for your armor, the tips of your arrows and many other things. We’ve mined here for over three hundred cycles of the sun. The need for this metal has not diminished. We’ve the richest deposit of this product ever found, and have sent countless shiploads of the product back to the old country to trade. They will come back. This island that we live on is too valuable for our people to forget about.”
“But we have been forgotten, old man,” the chief replied sarcastically.
“Our race has always been traders. We have many city-states in the old world. They all started out as outposts. If our homeland, Tyre, falls, one of the other city-states will come. Many civilizations hunger for our product. We haven’t been forgotten. There is profit from trading to be made here. Someone will certainly come for more tsi-yi,” Gawonii patiently explained to his hot-headed chief.
“Then why are we leaving? We should stay and fight,” Austenco said with the fanatical enthusiasm of a warrior. He raised his long bow in the air and gave out a war cry.
“It’s too late to fight,” the old man answered sadly. “Our enemies grow in numbers every day. They intend to wipe us from this land. We can’t stop them. We must flee.”
“Why do they want to kill us?” The chief didn’t quite understand.
“It’s because we have wealth from the mines,” the elder replied sagely. “And because we are different.”
“Different! How are we different?” The chief asked in shock.
The elder stopped pounding on the rock and looked the chief straight in the eye. “Picture your enemy in your mind, Austenco. You are lighter skinned and much taller. Your face is narrow while theirs is round. They have flat noses and yours is long and straight. Then there is the color in your eyes, theirs is brown. Your hair is wavy and many colors abound in the settlement, their hair is black.”
“So, are you saying that we must leave because of the color of our skin?” The chief asked incredulously.
“Greed, jealousy and the feeling of superiority have been part of man’s makeup since the beginning of time, my friend. I don’t think that it will ever change,” the elder replied.
Realizing that the wise man was right, Austenco announced. “We will be fully prepared to leave this evening.”
“Good,” Gawonii responded. “Have you picked the team to stay?”
“Yes,” the chief replied. “Ten men will remain here until our sails are no longer visible, then they will burn the village and catch up to us. There will be no trace of our settlement.”
“One more thing,” the elder said as he brought up his crooked finger. “I want you to pick four young men to work with each of the elders during the voyage.”
“Do you need servants?”
“No,” the wise man shook his head. “The four of us will teach the boys how to read and write our old language. They will help us write a history of our tribe. We will write it in stone along the journey and keep it with us until our people find us.”
“I will do as you wish,” Austenco replied. “But you must stop making so much noise. Our enemies may hear it and come to investigate.”
“I will take the rock to a cave and complete it inside where no one can hear my pounding,” the elder agreed.
***
As soon as the sun went down, the entire village clamored into the boats and set sail to their new homeland. The area that they eventually settled is currently known as Tennessee and the Carolinas. There they thrived until the white man began to settle it several thousand years later.
No Phoenician ship ever came again to the copper mines of northern Michigan to mine more copper and no one went looking for the lost people of Tyre.
Part One
The Stones
Chapter One
PRESENT DAY
Colton Banyon entered the Law office of Dewey & Beatem in the Chicago suburb of Schaumburg, Illinois. He was thinking that it was going to be an easy day — only it didn’t turn out that way.
He had dressed casually in a pink dress shirt and black pants, along with soft Italian loafers. He didn’t expect to be meeting anyone that would require more formal attire. As he crossed the large marble-floored reception area he waved to Mandy, the very young-looking woman behind the airline checkin-like counter. She was the receptionist, his assistant, and a new member of his unique team. She also had an uncontrollable crush on Colton Banyon. Most of the time, Banyon tried to keep his distance.
“Morning Colt,” she called out in a sweet voice as she tracked him with her eyes.
“Good morning Mandy,” he replied in a friendly tone as he glanced at her. Today, she was dressed in a severe blue business suit that hugged her toned body. It was accented with an open collared, white silk blouse. A string of white pearls adorned her neck. The three-inch blue high heels brought her up to a full five foot three inches. She had begun to grow her blond hair and it now reached her shoulders. She was very athletic, but she still looked fourteen to him.
Banyon was over sixty years old, old enough to be her grandfather, but understood why Mandy was attracted to him. He was six feet tall with still defined muscles and a good smile. If it wasn’t for his thinning hair, and the crow’s feet around his eyes, he could pass for a much younger man. But Mandy was attracted to him for another reason. It was because he treated her like a person and not a little pretty doll. He gave her responsibility when no one else would. He was her mentor and friend. They had many awkward moments as she tried to repay him using her sexuality. He always refused mostly because his girlfriend and companion Loni Chen would kill him and her too, but secretly, he loved the attention. He took two more steps across the floor. Then the problems began.
“I’ve some information for you,” she said as her small arm gestured for him to come to the counter. He turned and walked over to her station.
“What have you got?” He said cheerfully, but his smile dropped from his face when she held up the ten pink message slips. He never got more than two or three messages in a day. This could only mean trouble, he thought.
“The first thing you need to know is that Bart is taking the rest of the week off. He booked a cruise and has already left the country,” Mandy told him.
“He never mentioned anything to me,” Banyon protested. Bart Longwood was Banyon’s partner at the firm. By design, the firm was very secretive and only first names were usually used inside the office. Since Banyon had joined the firm several years ago, Bart had never taken a vacation
. He wondered why he would take one now.
“He left a message on the phone overnight,” Mandy said. “I don’t think anybody knew he was taking some time off. He simply said that he needed some time to himself.”
“That seems strange, don’t you think? Why take a vacation now?” Banyon replied as he scratched his chin.
“There’s more,” Mandy continued as her clear blue eyes searched his face.
“Okay, give it to me.”
“He said you will handle running the company while he’s gone. All decisions should be cleared through you.”
“But I’m not qualified to run a firm full of lawyers,” Banyon said with concern. “I know next to nothing about law.” Banyon had joined the firm to be a finder. He was very good at locating lost things. He had recently been made a partner because he produced the most income at the firm. Also the President of the United States had told Bart, his college roommate, that he would lose Banyon and the lucrative government contracts if he didn’t. Bart was a money hungry, greedy, lawyer who understood that half a loaf was better than none.
Banyon had joined the firm at the President’s request. The big man was the only person besides Banyon’s team who knew of his unique talent. The firm had many legitimate clients, but was also a top-secret black ops organization which the President used to handle situations that could not be completed through public means. Each person that worked at Dewey & Beatem had special talents, right down to the receptionist.
“Don’t worry, Colt. I am always at your disposal,” Mandy replied. She batted her eyelids at him. “The lawyers are taking care of the cases. You just have to keep things rolling along. Mostly you need to sign checks. What could go wrong?”
Banyon was an experienced businessman. He had spent forty years in the consumer products business. He knew how to sign checks and make decisions. But he had retired from all that, and now just wanted to find artifacts. He just didn’t want to deal with all the hassles. “I suppose that all those messages are from people who need decisions, right?” Banyon asked as he pointed to the pink slips.
A Dubious Race: The Phoenician Stones (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 14) Page 1