The Emerald Casket

by Richard Newsome

  ‘We’re good,’ Ruby smiled. ‘But what’s with these bandits? If this cult is tied up with your family, they’ve got a funny way of showing it.’

  ‘It’s hardly the red carpet,’ Gerald said. ‘Did you see what happened to Alisha, or the thin man?’

  Ruby shook her head. ‘Last thing I saw was the lights going out and someone shoved a bag over my head.’

  ‘There’s a few things I’d like to ask Alisha,’ Gerald said.

  Ruby’s face darkened. ‘There’s a few things I’d like to tell her too.’

  ‘But there’s one good thing,’ Gerald said.

  Sam laughed. ‘You mean apart from the beating from the thin man and the train getting hijacked?’

  ‘Yes,’ Gerald said. ‘I know how to find the lost city.’

  Ruby and Sam stared at him, mouths open.

  ‘No time to explain now,’ he said. ‘First we have to find a way out of here.’

  He surveyed the inside of the tent. It was cluttered with piles of camping gear: sleeping rolls, tinned food, jerry cans. Then he saw something familiar.

  ‘Our stuff from the train,’ he said. ‘They must have cleaned out the carriage.’

  Gerald tossed bags out of the way and turned up his backpack. He reefed it open and pulled out the bandit’s dagger.

  ‘This could come in handy,’ he said.

  Ruby looked at the dagger doubtfully. ‘You’re not going to fight your way out,’ she said.

  ‘Maybe not. But we may need to defend ourselves.’ Gerald unzipped a pocket in one leg of his pants and slipped the knife inside. ‘What else can we use?’

  They scoured through the bags—Gerald was about to upend Mr Fry’s backpack when he saw a bright colour in among the blacks and greens.

  ‘Alisha’s handbag,’ he said, diving to get to it.

  ‘So?’ Sam said.

  ‘Mobile phone.’

  Ruby and Sam crowded over Gerald’s shoulder while he tipped out the bag. In among the perfume, lip gloss and moisturiser he found it. They stared at the screen.

  ‘Still no signal,’ Sam said.

  Gerald glared at the piece of plastic in his hand. He was about to toss it away when he heard a light rustling behind him. Then came the lilt of cooing. Gerald spun around to see Lethbridge’s pigeons in a corner of the tent.

  A spark went off in his brain.

  ‘Ruby,’ he called. ‘Look in my backpack for a piece of paper and a pencil. Lethbridge might have done something useful for once.’

  Gerald stabbed at the buttons on Alisha’s phone and after a second found what he was looking for. ‘Okay,’ he said to Ruby, ‘write this down.’ He read off a series of numbers and letters.

  ‘What’s that?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Navigation co-ordinates, geography boy. We don’t have any mobile coverage but Alisha’s phone can still pick up the global positioning satellite.’

  ‘Yes, very interesting,’ Sam said. ‘But not much good to us if we can’t phone somebody and tell them.’

  Gerald grinned. ‘Ever heard of pigeon post?’ He took the cover off the birdcage. ‘There’s only three here—Lethbridge must have already sent one to his friend in Delhi.’

  ‘Or eaten one,’ Sam said.

  Ruby tore off two more pieces of paper and copied the co-ordinates again. She wrote a message for help at the bottom. Sam rolled the notes and slid them into the metal tubes on the pigeons’ legs.

  Gerald stole across to the tent flap and lifted an edge. His view was blocked by the back of a large man dressed in black.

  He retreated into the tent. ‘We’re not going out that way,’ he said. ‘Let’s try over here.’ Sam carried the box of birds to the rear of the tent. Gerald pulled the knife from his pocket and stabbed through the canvas wall, slicing a neat line up, then across. Sam shoved the first bird through, and the others close behind.

  ‘Think this’ll work?’ Ruby said. They peered out through the opening as the pigeons took flight.

  ‘If they’re as smart as Lethbridge made out, they should fly straight to his pigeon fancier mate in Delhi,’ Gerald said. ‘Hopefully he’ll call the police.’

  There was a sound behind them and they spun around to see the large bandit filling the entryway. A white dressing covered his chin.

  ‘Come,’ he said. It was a tone that suggested he wasn’t going to ask twice. The bandit wrapped cable ties around their wrists, binding their hands in front of them.

  He led them to a rough bush camp in the middle of a glade of trees. Three logs formed a triangle around a central campfire that burned a bright hole in the night. About twenty metres away Gerald could make out another cluster of tents and beyond them some horses grazed in a tight bunch.

  The bandit nodded towards one of the logs, and Gerald, Sam and Ruby sat down. A moment later, a lithe figure, slim, toned and dressed in a set of fitted black overalls, emerged from a tent and walked towards them.

  ‘Heads up,’ Sam said. ‘Looks like your girlfriend’s on the way.’

  ‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Gerald said. ‘Will you quit it?’ For the first time in a long time, Sam grinned. Gerald was glad to see it.

  The figure walked into the light of the campfire. Her sleeves were rolled to her muscled biceps and she wore a black scarf around her head. She unwound the cloth to reveal the weathered face of a woman well into her forties.

  ‘Jeez Louise!’ Sam yelped. ‘You kissed her?’

  The woman raised an eyebrow. ‘You must be the one who’s not so bright,’ she said.

  A svelte girl dressed in identical overalls stepped from the shadows. To Gerald’s disgust, his heart started pounding the moment he saw her.

  ‘That would have been me,’ the bandit girl said. ‘Hello Gerald.’ She winked at him. Gerald felt his cheeks redden.

  Ruby glanced at the expression on his face. ‘Oh, puh-leese.’

  ‘Ah! My daughter,’ the woman said, shaking her head. ‘Not as modest as one would hope. But teenagers these days, what can you do?’

  ‘A mother and daughter bandit team?’ Gerald said, trying to keep his gaze away from the girl.

  ‘I thought you would have realised by now,’ the woman said. ‘We’re all about family.’

  ‘You don’t act like it,’ Gerald said. ‘Where are we? And where’s Alisha?’

  The woman turned and whispered to her daughter, who nodded and half walked half ran towards the collection of tents.

  ‘The Gupta girl is quite all right,’ the woman said. ‘But you will not see her again.’

  The woman said this with such finality that it made Ruby gasp. ‘What are you going to do to her?’

  The woman’s face was like stone. ‘The Guptas are no friends of the fraternity,’ she said flatly.

  A triangle of light appeared at the front of one of the tents as a flap was thrown open. Two people emerged; judging by their shapes one was the bandit girl and the other a man. The man led the way across the glade, his rolling gait accentuating his round shape. There was no doubt in Gerald’s mind that this was the leader. The man burst into the firelight and stopped. He fixed his fists to his hips and a scowl to his face.

  Gerald’s mouth dropped at the sight of the man and the fury on his face. He could barely form the words that fell from his lips.

  ‘Mr…Hoskins.’

  Chapter 19

  The man who stood before them was definitely Mr Hoskins, but his expression bore no resemblance to the man who had collected them from the airport days before. He got straight to the point.

  ‘What have you told the Gupta girl?’ His tone was cold, demanding an answer.

  ‘Told her?’ Gerald said. ‘I don’t understand. Told her what?’

  Hoskins chewed the inside of his bottom lip. ‘About us.’

  Gerald was mute, unsure what to say. He was horrified at this transformation.

  ‘Why are you being like this?’ Gerald asked.

  ‘Because there’s too much at stake to be any other way.’ H
oskins turned towards Sam and Ruby. ‘And you think you can trust this pair?’

  ‘Course I can trust them. What are you saying?’

  Hoskins maintained his gaze on the Valentine twins. ‘How long have you known these two? A few weeks?’

  Gerald pulled his shoulders back and glared at the man. ‘I’d trust them with my life.’

  ‘Good. Because that’s exactly what you’re going to have to do.’ Hoskins jerked his head at the bandit girl. She unsheathed a knife from a scabbard at her waist. She grabbed Ruby roughly by the shoulder.

  ‘Hey!’ Gerald yelled. Hoskins caught him by the shirt before he could move. The bandit girl cocked her head at Gerald and flashed him another one of her smiles. She then sliced through the bindings at Ruby’s wrists. She did the same to Sam but stopped in front of Gerald and took hold of his hands.

  ‘You need to relax,’ she whispered, then cut through the cable tie with a flick of her blade.

  ‘Kali!’ the bandit woman snapped. ‘Enough.’ She sat on a log and muttered about teenagers.

  Kali gave Gerald a coy smile then sashayed across to her mother.

  Gerald gazed after her as if in a dream. She likes me…

  He suddenly realised Ruby was standing right in front of him. She smacked him across the forehead with a sharp thwack.

  ‘Oi!’ she said. ‘Concentrate.’

  ‘Yes,’ Gerald said. ‘Yes, must concentrate.’

  Hoskins glowered at them. ‘Now, Gerald, what have you told the Gupta girl about the fraternity?’

  ‘Nothing. How could I?’ Gerald protested. ‘I don’t know anything about it myself.’

  ‘Think!’ Hoskins said. ‘This is important.’

  Gerald’s mind was awash with too many questions to be coming up with any answers.

  ‘Alisha knows that the fraternity wants Gerald to join them.’ Everyone looked at Sam. He sat staring into the embers.

  ‘We were talking about it when you two went to get food at the train station,’ Sam said. ‘She was fiddling about with her mobile phone and said it was kind of neat that Gerald was going to join a fraternity. Then she asked if I knew much about it. I didn’t think anything of it, but—’

  ‘Of course,’ Gerald said. ‘She would have heard Fry talking about it in the shop at Agra.’

  Hoskins muttered under his breath. ‘And what exactly did Mr Fry have to say, the great pillock?’

  ‘He mentioned a phone call he’d overheard between Great Aunt Geraldine and some man. About whether I was ready. Or something.’

  Hoskins turned his back and bellowed a ten second curse-laden tirade into the dark. Gerald, Ruby and Sam stared at him with eyes like dinner plates.

  ‘Trust bleedin’ Fry to be listening in,’ Hoskins said.

  ‘That was you on the phone?’ Gerald said. ‘You’re the one who wanted to know if I was ready.’

  Hoskins studied Gerald’s face in the firelight. Over near the tents, one of the horses whinnied. ‘Well? Are you?’

  Gerald couldn’t believe his frustration. ‘Ready for what?’

  Hoskins squatted and picked up a stick. He prodded the base of the fire. Sparks arced into the air. He laid another log across the top.

  ‘You’ve got this far on your own,’ he said at last. ‘You’re ready enough.’

  Gerald bounced to his feet. ‘Ready for WHAT?’

  Hoskins retrieved a beaten rectangular tin from his pocket. He popped the lid and tossed a peppermint into his mouth. All the time, he didn’t take his eyes from Gerald’s face.

  ‘Ready to keep a promise,’ he said at last.

  Gerald looked like he was ready to explode.

  Hoskins held up a hand. ‘I’ll tell you what I know. Then, if you want, you can scream at me till your tonsils pop.’

  He settled on the third log in the triangle and stared into the flames.

  ‘We’re part of a promise,’ he said. ‘A promise that was made a long time ago. Your great aunt. You. Even your rotten cousins—you’re all part of a family pledge that has stretched across sixteen centuries.’

  Gerald thought about the cousins he’d met for the first time after his great aunt’s funeral—Zebedee and Octavia. He shuddered to think he shared any DNA with them.

  ‘The story my father told me is the one that his father told him,’ Hoskins said. ‘And the one that I will tell you now.’

  ‘Does that mean we’re related?’ Gerald interrupted. Trying to keep track of his family was becoming increasingly difficult.

  ‘Very distant cousins,’ Hoskins said. ‘There’s some happy news for you.’

  Sam snuffled and grinned. ‘Think you can contain yourself, Gerald?’

  Hoskins transferred his glare to Sam. ‘The question is can you contain yourself? Or do I have to find a container for you?’

  Sam swallowed and huddled back onto the log.

  Hoskins’ face glowed red in the firelight. Shadows danced in the pouches under his eyes and his voice dropped to a ghost-story whisper.

  ‘The tale my father told me has enough holes in it to sink a supertanker. Most of it is probably wrong and the rest highly inaccurate. But it’s all we’ve got.’

  The fire crackled and spat. All eyes were focused on Mr Hoskins.

  Ruby spoke. ‘Is this the story about Quintus Antonius and his sons? And how they escaped Rome with three caskets after some secret mission for the emperor went wrong?’

  Hoskins jolted in his spot. ‘How did you know about that?’

  Ruby tried to keep a straight face. ‘Professor McElderry told us. He and some friend at the Vatican library figured it out.’

  Even in the firelight, Gerald could tell that Hoskins’ face had gone white.

  ‘You know about the three caskets?’

  ‘Yep. And how one of them came to India and is now buried in a lost city on the coast,’ Gerald said.

  ‘Your great aunt knew the legends better than me,’ Mr Hoskins said. ‘For some reason she saw fit not to share that knowledge. And now a lot of the story has gone with her to the grave.’

  Gerald sensed Hoskins wasn’t entirely happy with Great Aunt Geraldine.

  ‘The fraternity was forged by the three sons of Quintus,’ Hoskins continued, ‘Gaius, Lucius and Marcus. Three brothers, three arms. It was Marcus who came to India, about 400AD, on a Roman trading ship. He was on the run. He jumped ship when he found a quiet fishing village in southern India. All he had with him were the clothes on his back and a casket.’

  ‘An emerald casket,’ Gerald said. ‘At least one that’s opened with an emerald.’

  ‘He hid it with great care,’ Hoskins said. ‘Marcus wanted to lie low—you don’t cross a Roman emperor and expect to live for long. He became a stonemason, married and had a family. But even so, the story of the Roman visitor was well known in the region. For many years they lived in peace. But then another boat came to the village. And this time no one on board looked like a merchant. The moment Marcus heard of its arrival he called his children together and told them the family secret.’

  Gerald interrupted. ‘Family secret? Mason Green said something about a family secret in the chamber under Beaconsfield.’

  Hoskins’ face darkened. ‘Sir Mason Green is remarkably well informed.’

  ‘So what is it?’ Gerald asked. ‘What’s the big secret?’

  Hoskins again prodded at the fire, seemingly mesmerised by the bend and twist of the flames.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said.

  ‘What!’ Sam said. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s a secret, bonehead. That’s the point. Marcus told his children about the casket, about how he’d smuggled it to India and hidden it. He made them swear never to reveal its location. And they never did. The only thing the fraternity members needed to know was that the contents of the casket had to be protected.’

  ‘That boatload of Romans,’ Ruby said. ‘They were after the casket, weren’t they?’

  Hoskins nodded. ‘And after Marcus. On the orde
rs of the emperor himself, the story goes. Something must have gone wrong back in Rome. That’s why the brothers left in a hurry. The emperor sent a band of assassins to hunt them down.’

  ‘What’s in the casket?’ Gerald asked.

  ‘No one knows,’ Hoskins said.

  The bandit woman spoke up from her place by the fire. ‘It’s the mantra. All the myths point to it.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Hoskins said. ‘You listen to too much gossip.’

  ‘What mantra is that?’ Ruby asked.

  ‘The Sanjivini mantra,’ the woman said in a hushed voice. ‘Once recited, it has the power to—’

  ‘Bring the dead back to life!’ Ruby said. ‘Remember, Gerald? It was in my travel guide.’

  ‘Is that what Green’s after?’ Gerald said. ‘The secret to eternal life?’

  ‘Well, you thought the Holy Grail was hidden in the diamond casket,’ Ruby said.

  ‘And I was wrong, wasn’t I. Be serious—a mantra that brings the dead back to life! What’s Green going to do? Raise a zombie army to take over the world?’

  Sam’s eyes widened. ‘That would be so cool!’

  Gerald and Ruby stared at him. His smile faded. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

  Gerald turned to Hoskins. ‘The fraternity was formed to protect the secret. Okay, I get it. But what have you got against the Guptas?’

  ‘Plenty,’ Hoskins said. ‘Before the assassins arrived in the village, their leader visited the palace of the Indian king, as an emissary from Rome. That king was Chandra-Gupta II.’

  ‘Alisha’s relative?’ Sam said.

  ‘He’d heard the stories of the Roman who settled in one of the southern villages. When he was told that Marcus had some great treasure, Chandra-Gupta led the assassins straight to him on the promise of a share of the spoils. Marcus was captured and tortured. But he never revealed the location of the casket.’

  The bandit woman spoke from the other side of the fire. ‘The leader of the assassins was the emperor’s favourite killer. A man named Octavius Viridian. By all accounts, he was a heartless beast. He slaughtered Marcus and went after his children. But they escaped and the location of the casket became lost in the centuries.’ She spat onto the dirt in disgust. ‘The Guptas are no friends of the fraternity.’