by Des Sheridan
‘Look!’ commanded Siobhan, her outstretched arm pointing towards the passage that led from the main chamber. Along the right-hand wall was a succession of grubby looking artefacts covered in dust. Although some objects were wrapped, others were not and Robert could discern what looked like shields, spears, swords and pots.
‘What on earth!’ Andrew exclaimed angrily.
‘We had to move them out, Andrew, I’m really sorry! We had no choice. We’ve kept a video record but moving them was the only way to get in there,’ Siobhan explained hurriedly. ‘I know we should only take things out one at a time, take real care, photograph everything as we go but we can’t, not this time – not with what’s in there.’
‘In where?’ Robert asked.
‘There, behind the long slate slab. There is another chamber. Sean is in there now, passing material out so that he can progress further. It’s the only way, it is jam-packed with stuff.’
Sean’s head appeared out of the dark crevice, his eyes wide.
‘It’s La Tène, Andrew. Can you believe it? Early La Tène, here in Sligo! It’s bloody unbelievable. This changes everything!’
The next few hours were exhilarating and exhausting. Robert looked on with intense concentration, trying to calculate what this might mean for ARAD and how the company might cope. They had to continuously move material out of the tomb, as there wasn’t enough room to store it in there and advance the exploration of the newly-discovered room. It took a human chain of people to get the stuff out, into trailers and ferried up to the house. Mac supervised a rapid clear out of junk from the old stables, to create space, and they stacked the artefacts along the walls and on the floor, as they arrived from the tomb.
The archaeologists were already methodically examining the pieces, laying them out on a couple of large, long-disused, old kitchen tables. Robert approved their methods. They recorded the details on video, speaking into a dictaphone as they progressed. Brushing away the dust of millenia, gently and painstakingly, they exposed the true nature of the material. Precious stones, in shades of blue, crimson and green were quick to declare themselves, and were restored to adamantine brilliance at the touch of a wet cloth. The bronze was shyer, hiding under crusts of ochre and verdigris until Siobhan coaxed it out to show its true colour. The iron of the weaponry was encrusted as well with ochre but it was the gold inlay that spoke for itself and stole the show. In this way the objects emerged, stunning in their beauty and revealing the glorious sweeping tracery of Celtic goldsmiths. Malachy stood as close as he could get to the treasures, like a proud father overseeing the birth.
‘Craftsmen were held in awe in Celtic society, as chosen ones who could tread the boundary between this world and the otherworld. You can see why,’ Malachy observed softly and his comment was met with silent assent.
Robert was quick to see a superficial resemblance to the Varna treasures, but this hoard was distinctive in carrying the tell-tale hallmark of the Celts; sinuous, swirling decoration that reflected the fecundity of nature so unmistakably. As his eyes grew familiar with the styling he began to see that initially abstract forms, such as spirals and triangles were accompanied by zoomorphic designs: beaks, eyes, claws and tails of numerous birds and animals, often depicted in a fantastical way. Palmettes, curves and scrolls emerged as organically-inspired representations of woodland foliage and tendrils, their details lovingly captured thousands of years ago by remarkable Celtic artisans.
It hadn’t taken long to realise that, in addition to the large obvious items such as metal chariot frames, wheels, long swords and shield bosses, there was a host of smaller pieces. Robert’s attention was caught by numerous strange ring-shaped objects, each with a distinctive gap. Tara explained that these were torcs, worn around the neck as collars with the gap facing forward.
‘I remember seeing these in the National Museum as a child. Just wait until they are polished, I’ll bet they are made of gold.’
She gently rubbed the object, the dust rising into the air and a golden hue appeared. They were standing side by side. Her face was close to his and he was struck by how beautiful she was. Her skin tanned from the summer sun, for a moment her proximity overwhelmed him and he was tempted to touch her, just to experience what her skin felt like. At the same time he sensed that something was not quite right about her. Her eyes had bags under them, as though she was exhausted, and she seemed at times almost absent, as though preoccupied with private thoughts. Oblivious to his scrutiny, and totally absorbed in the moment, she carried on speaking.
‘It is coming back to me, what we learnt at school. Torcs were the ultimate symbol of status in Celtic society, but they loved all jewellery – bracelets, anklets, earrings – the lot! They liked their wealth to be visible, portable and preferably wearable. Outward signs of rank or wealth were very important.’
A memory flashed before Robert of young gipsy girls at Appleby Fair, when he and Sarah had visited Cumbria. He recalled the dazzling gold earrings and bracelets standing out against their dark flesh.
Malachy called out to him, holding up a circular object with a handle.
‘Look at this!’
‘That looks just like a Victorian hand mirror,’ Robert blurted out.
‘Got it in one, but two and a half millennia older,’ smiled Malachy, pleased. ‘The Celts loved mirrors. They were vain and took a lot of trouble with their appearance. For them, mirrors had magical properties. Just as you could see yourself in them, equally they made you visible to the otherworld, on the far side of the image. They were used to foretell the future.’
Robert detected a certainty in Malachy’s words that sounded too absolute. Did he mean that the Celts thought they could read the future? It didn’t come across that way, it sounded as if Malachy believed they could.
He turned the item over and saw, through the grime, glimpses of decoration.
‘How could they draw like that, it’s extraordinary! Was it done free hand?’
‘No,’ said Malachy removing the dirt with a brush. ‘Look closer.’
A complex pattern of symmetrical crescents was just visible.
‘This is complex, fold-over symmetry,’ Malachy murmured almost lovingly. ‘These patterns were traced using a compass. The men who created this were practised mathematicians as well as gifted craftsmen. Never dismiss them as savages or untutored. If one walked into this room right now only his clothes would distinguish him from any one of us. We would get along fine.’
Already Robert recognised it as a typical Malachy observation. It was as though he knew these people, had met and mingled with them. The man had a gift for bringing history alive.
Chapter 53
It was hard to drag himself away from the treasure room, but Robert had a job to do. He rounded up Brian, Andrew and Sean for a conference, and they withdrew to the house. Andrew quickly confirmed what Robert suspected.
‘This treasure is completely unprecedented in Ireland. Most of the gold we have on show in the National Museum dates from the Christian Era, post 500 AD. It is unsurpassed in its beauty but obviously is quite recent. There is very little else on record. We have a few Hallstatt swords from about 600 BC and then nothing until some La Tène spears and scabbards appear around 250 BC. It is fine material but there is so little of it. What we have found today is incredibly significant. It fills the gap, and is on a par with the original La Tène treasure. That was one of the great Celtic discoveries and was made in the eighteen-fifties in Switzerland on the edge of Lake Neuchatel. It dates back to 500 BC. Over two thousand five hundred metal objects were found buried in mud when lake levels fell during a drought. The stylistic link suggests that the Rosnaree gold is equally old, and may be up to a millennium older than the main Christian finds. But that is a first guess, so don’t hold me too it’
Sean chimed in.
‘Yes, I agree with that reading and the implications are profound. The archaeological literature refers to Ireland at that time as residing on the very edge of the Celtic civilisation �
�� backward, peripheral and insignificant. Anything of interest was probably imported from the Continent anyway and so forth. Well, we can now tear those books up. They are all just plain wrong!’
Andrew cut back in, speaking quietly but with urgency in his tone.
‘And the other thing is the scale of this hoard. It looks like it could be vast. The material coming out now includes war helmets, some with birds or animals atop them and featuring ear and cheek protectors. It is breath-taking stuff. You should see the range of horse accoutrements - harnesses, bits, rein rings, even what look like pony caps. Also domestic material, knives, scissors, tongs, cooking pots, storage jars. You name it! In short it looks like being much bigger than the La Tène cache!’
Andrew waved his palms upwards, an open gesture that spoke volumes.
The others nodded and Robert felt the penny start to drop. They couldn’t sit on this. It was an enormous discovery and would attract even more media attention to Rosnaree than they had imagined a few days back, when they had found the tomb.
Robert’s brain shifted gear and moved straight to the point, like an arrow finding a bull’s-eye.
‘OK then, our first and only priority must be heightened security. How do we get it fast, like today, Andrew? ARAD can help with this and rapidly, but right now we must call on the State. Only it has got the necessary resources, immediately available and deployable.’
Andrew stroked his chin, then moving to the desk, he picked up the phone. Within minutes he had the Minister for Arts, Heritage and Gaeltacht Affairs on the line and spoke briefly with him. Putting the handset back in the cradle he made an announcement.
‘The Minister is, at this minute, requesting a squad of twenty Gardaí for immediate mobilisation, and in view of, well, let’s just say recent history, some will carry arms.’
Robert, initially puzzled, realised that Andrew must be referring to a possible threat from Republican dissidents. It was good thinking. There had been resurgence in bombs being placed in border areas and it was common knowledge they were engaged in drug running and smuggling. Rosnaree might well attract their attention.
‘Robert, I want ARAD to deploy a further team of twenty men under Mac’s supervision. The Minister has agreed to them being armed. Can you handle that? You will need to talk details with the Gardaí Special Branch. OK?’
‘Leave it to me. I will get Mac moving on it at once and I will ask him to use Irish personnel as far as possible.’
Andrew nodded as if pleased by what Robert implied. . An influx of armed, ex-British army types might not be the best move in public relations terms. Mac should be able to recruit ex-Irish Army men with experience of UN missions abroad, such as in the Lebanon. They shouldn’t be that hard to find. Ex-servicemen had their own very effective grapevine.
The meeting disbanded and the four men went about their business. Robert felt confident that each knew the urgency of their various tasks. There was so much to do. The finding of the treasure was a game changer. The balloon would go up soon.
Chapter 54
Tara, Malachy and Robert were alone in the stables, the archaeologists having withdrawn for an end-of-day review meeting. As they worked, cleaning finds, Tara told them about her dream although she toned down the choking episode so as not to appear too unstable and dramatic.
The Gardaí reinforcements started to arrive in dribs and drabs, discreetly hidden in vans, and were deployed as unobtrusively as possible around the tomb and stables. As a result Shay’s patrols were stood down, leaving him and his three friends free for the evening. Seeming to regret his earlier bad temper, he appeared in the workroom late afternoon and, looking sheepish, invited Tara out for a meal that evening. Tara groaned inwardly but realised it was the opportunity she needed to talk to him.
‘OK Shay, look, you are more tired than me, let me drive tonight.’
‘Right you are then, I’m off to see Brian.’ He looked pleased and smiled. As he left the room she wondered how on earth to find the words to let him down gently.
The light was fading and the work of cleaning the recovered materials came to a halt. Tara watched Malachy as he reluctantly put aside the piece he was handling. You could read in his face his delight in touching the ancient objects. She spoke up.
‘Before we go, Malachy. The spiral symbol, the one in the tomb and in my dream. What exactly does it mean?’
Malachy groaned cheerfully.
‘Ah the Triskell you mean. Now there’s a question! How long have you got, Tara?’
‘The short version will do fine.’
‘With the Celts there is no such thing! Everything seeps into something else. Haven’t you grasped that yet? Well, if we must. For starters, the Celts believed that the gods and spirits intervened in the affairs of men. At certain times, the otherworld and the real world overlapped - that’s what created a shared space. The Celts captured aspects of this in symbols and the Triskell is one of the most resonant. Even today it strikes most of us as a very pregnant motif although we are hard pressed to explain why. I believe that there are three essential ideas captured in it. But before I launch off, I should warn you I will be in lecture mode from now on, OK?’
Tara and Robert both nodded assent, so Malachy pointed up his little finger on his left hand and twiddled it.
‘Firstly, it is a dynamic image representing rotary motion, and that we think is associated with changes in consciousness. Like, we all know that when we lose consciousness we often feel dizzy, from a spinning sensation? So the Triskell symbolises changes in our state of consciousness.’
A second finger was raised.
‘Secondly, the Triskell is a vector, conveying spiral movement in a particular direction. In three dimensions if you follow the spiral you can go deeper into it, in other words it becomes a vortex. And of course a spiral can be wound clockwise or anti-clockwise, so if you go inwards so you can also come outwards; a two-way journey. So now we have a binary aspect. Sorry, I did warn you this would be a bit heavy!’
It was true enough, all this was complicated but Tara was more struck by the ease with which her old friend explained complex ideas. Once he said something it seemed so obvious that you felt foolish for not seeing it in the first instance. And yet he managed this without sounding patronising at all. When had he become so learned? She’d been away in the US too long. Malachy’s long finger was now outstretched.
‘Thirdly, the Triskell represents triplism – there are three spirals side by side often threading into each other. Three is a sacred number for the Celts. The goddess Morrigan had three forms, maid, woman and crone, or to put it more broadly, youth, adulthood and old age. Some go further and say the Triskell represents the three worlds, the underworld, the earthly realm – where we live - and a heavenly realm. For others it represents the three essences of water, earth and air. For Christians like myself it represents the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son and the Spirit, or to put the latter more cogently, the love between the Father and the Son. But in your dream, Tara, it seems to refer to time as well. You have a voice from the past reaching out to you, so the temporal meaning is plain.’
Malachy paused to see if Tara would complete the logic, but it was Robert’s voice that intervened, beating her to it.
‘The past, present and future.’
The Deacon nodded his head
‘Exactly so.’
‘I don’t get it,’ said Tara. ‘Where is the reference to the future?’
Robert answered.
‘I expect we have to wait and see, Tara. Wait for that bit to be revealed.’
Again Malachy nodded. Tara was surprised, the two men seemed to be ahead of her and have an intuition of where this was all leading.
‘Let’s rest it there for tonight,’ suggested Malachy apparently responding to what she guessed must be a puzzled look on her face. ‘Today has been exciting and exhausting enough. But think about this. With the creation of symbols, which first appear nearly 40,000 years ago in caves – way, way
back - Neolithic man passed into a new era of communication. For the first time in human history information could be stored outside the human mind, without the need for oral translation from one living person to another. Perhaps that is why these enigmatic symbols are so potent even to us thousands of years later. They are literally downloads from the past, from long before the creation of the first written language, if only we could decipher them.’
‘Has no one decoded the symbols then?’
‘Well yes, to a point. Tentative but persuasive interpretations have been made of the earliest cave symbols known from the south of France. And also there has been good headway in reading some of the symbols found in the much younger megalithic tombs such as Newgrange and Knowth.’
‘And? What are the messages saying, in the case of the tombs I mean?’
‘Well, the megalithic symbols are not recording events or histories like later hieroglyphs or cuneiform script. They are a quite different kind of language, much more abstract, that I and others believe describes altered states of experience. They seem to provide a vocabulary that records the steps in a journey to a different level of consciousness.’
‘I am not sure I follow,’ said Tara.
Malachy sighed. ‘Sorry, I have overloaded you. Too much in one go. But remember Tara, intellectual analysis only takes you so far in this business. It is not so much what the Triskell means in any objective sense. It is what the Triskell means for you personally. You’re being taken on a journey of personal discovery, Tara.’
V: The Vengeful Suitor
Chapter 55
Sligo, Ireland, 21 September 2014
Things seemed to go wrong with the evening from the start. Shay had chosen an expensive restaurant near Castlebaldwin. He is trying hard, she thought, but she knew it was in vain; she wasn’t about to have second thoughts. It was a small world around here, and for the sake of both of their families she needed to find the right words to make their parting amicable. The food was delicious, but both of them were tired and soon the conversation flagged. Shay had been drinking Bushmills at the house with Brian, to celebrate the discovery of the hoard, and carried on at the table. It didn’t make her task any easier.