“He does know about another artifact, and believes it’s from the same collection, but the man who owns it does not want to sell it. Munroe wants our help in stealing it, and a number of other items from this guy. He also has another goblet stashed in a secret alcove behind that bookcase over there.”
“I knew I felt danger surrounding him,” Dyla replied.
“We’ll just play along with him for now,” Darius answered. “This other piece in the collection could be the traveling crystal. For now, let’s give him a little surprise of our own.”
“What surprise? Am I missing something here?” Eclair asked.
“Let’s have a look at that other goblet,” Darius said, getting up from the couch.
“Oh, I get it now.”
Darius chuckled.
“Eclair, it’s a good thing you’re such a good telekinetic, ‘cause you’re a little slow sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m working on it though.”
Dyla patted Eclair’s arm. He looked at her, and shrugged his shoulders.
Darius sauntered over to the bookcase to look at that secret compartment.
Excerpt from the field journal of Catiana Spencer:
There are many false claims and fake artifacts that collectors buy, and thieves unabashedly sell, for handsome amounts. Many of the finds must be validated through careful study and carbon dating. One aspect of field study is to remember that the artisans of the time were relegated to the relatively primitive tools of the day. A master could create detailed pieces of intricate beauty, but not the details that today’s precision tools can accomplish. When studying a piece, it is vital that the validity of the craftsman be taken into account.
Chapter 30 – The Con
Munroe whirled on Cat as the kitchen door swung shut.
“Where did you find these kids?” Munroe asked, a little too sharply.
Cat took a step back from Munroe’s threatening tone.
“They approached me in the library yesterday. I never saw them before that. You should really talk to them; it’s amazing how much they know of Arthurian times. It’s like they lived during the period. You saw how quickly they marked the goblet. And by the way, where is your goblet?” Cat asked, suddenly remembering that Munroe had said the goblet was not here.
“Do you think me foolish enough to display both pieces together in the open? I have it safely hidden, where no one will find it. I don’t intend to show it to them until I know a little more about them, and feel a lot more comfortable.”
“They certainly know what they are talking about,” Cat replied.
“We’ll see about that. Help me get some drinks together. I don’t want to leave them alone for too long.”
It didn’t take long for the two of them to get a tray together. “Here we are,” Munroe announced, stepping through the door with a tray full of drinks and crackers.
Cat bumped into him when he stopped short, mouth agape, almost dropping the tray. Darius was examining the second goblet he thought he had so carefully hidden.
Munroe was outraged at the effrontery of the three.
“What? How did you find that? You’ve been snooping around my home. How dare you? What kind of manners do you people have?”
Darius looked up. “Actually, I noticed a section of your bookcase ajar as I was perusing your collection. I didn’t think you would mind if we examined this piece as well, seeing that we’ll be working together.”
That stopped Munroe short, as he thought about the ramifications of Darius’s statement. He had locked the compartment in the bookcase, but events were taking a turn that he was warming to more and more.
Munroe quickly recovered his composure. “Well, no harm, no foul. Tell me, what do you think of the piece?”
“It’s definitely of the same era; Arthurian you call it? I recognize the marking on this one as I had on the other.”
“There is a slight difference though,” Cat interjected.
“Indeed there is. You’re very observant, Cat,” Darius said. “The goblets are from different houses. The first is from the house of Telkur, and this one is from the house of Vogdo. Do you want me to explain the history of the two houses?”
Now it was Cat’s turn to stare open-mouthed. Before Munroe could answer, Cat urged Darius to continue.
“That’s a very fanciful story,” Munroe said, after listening to Darius’ brief narrative.
Cat was quick to agree with Munroe.
“I’ve never heard of either of these two families, either, and I’m a scholar on the subject.”
“So, that makes you the expert, right?” Dyla asked.
Cat shot Dyla a hard look.
“As I told you earlier, I’m one of the most learned scholars on the subject. So, yes, I’m an expert. The histories of the era are vague, but I can assure you that I’ve read every piece ever written on the subject.”
It was Eclair’s turn to spin their ancestor’s tale.
“That’s why you’ve never heard of our families before,” he explained. “These histories have been passed down by word-of-mouth for centuries, through our family traditions. We are the true descendants of the original ruling caste of the Duchy of Saxon in northern Germany.”
“Oh my God,” Cat cried, her scholar’s mind soaking up the details. “You’re saying your ancestors were part of the Anglo-Saxon invasion of England, the people that Arthur fought against?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“So, these goblets aren’t from King Arthur’s table, but from the Anglo-Saxons that occupied eastern England?”
“Yes, those pieces and others like them have been the life-long quest of our families to recover,” Eclair said.
Cat kept the group talking for well over an hour about the histories of the families. Eclair did a superb job in keeping the fact secret that the histories and areas he described were on a foreign world.
Munroe nodded through the explanations, but he was beginning to think the stories were a little too convenient. It was hard to con a con, and he smelled a rat.
Cat’s curiosity finally abated as she looked at her watch.
“I can honestly say that this has been an enlightening experience,” she said. “However, it’s getting late and I have to get some sleep. I have duties at the university that I must attend to in the morning. I would like to get together again soon so we can continue our discussion. I’m sure we should be able to help one another. By the way, where are you three staying tonight? I’ll be happy to drop you off on my way home.”
None of the trio had given lodging for the night much thought. Their previous nights had been spent huddled together in the cold shadows of Stonehenge, and in the countryside around Amesbury. It would be better if they could sleep indoors tonight.
“We haven’t secured rooms yet,” Dyla replied. “Can you suggest a place nearby?”
“Of course, there are a number of nice establishments over on Baker. It’s just a few blocks away, and I can pop you over there with no trouble at all.”
Munroe did not want to let the trio out of his sight. He wanted them somewhere where he could keep an eye of them. He didn’t trust them, and was certainly not taken in by their fanciful stories.
“Nonsense, that won’t be necessary. There are rooms available just across the street. No bother for anyone,” he suggested.
“Across the street?” Cat questioned. “There’s only a row of bars across the street.”
“Yes, with rooms to let above them all,” Munroe replied, knowingly looking to Darius for his consent.
“That sounds perfect,” Darius chimed in.
After saying their goodbyes to Cat, Munroe took the three of them across the street to one of the many bars that lined the block.
“I know the owner,” Munroe said. “He owes me a favor, and I should be able to get you the rooms at a discount.”
Dyla’s empathic sense picked up the underlying tremor of feelings coursing through Munroe. He was up to something, but s
he wasn’t sure what. She signaled the danger sign to Darius as they approached the bar. Darius nodded in understanding.
Munroe led them inside the bar, where the denizens were a mixed group of hard-looking men, and harder-looking women. He secured a table for them in the back. After ordering a round of drinks, Munroe stood and looked around for the owner.
“I’ll be right back. I have to make the arrangements for you.”
They watched Munroe disappear into the back of the bar, but none of them noticed Munroe had stopped to talk to a large, dangerous-looking man just out of their view.
“The three I came in with,” Munroe said to the burly man, “see what they’re about for me. Don’t rough them up too much; just get the measure of them.”
With that, Munroe disappeared into the back room.
It wasn’t long before their drinks arrived. However, Dyla noticed the woman who took their order was not the same as the one who delivered it to them now. She watched as the new waitress set the drinks on the table, licked her lips and gave the men the once over. Darius smiled back at her, but Eclair, remembering the scene in the library, studiously ignored the girl.
That was all the invitation the waitress needed. The woman exuded a predatory vibe as she walked to the back of Eclair’s chair and slipped her arm around his neck. As she whispered something into his ear, his ears turned beet red.
Dyla stood up.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The woman giggled and slipped her arm down the front of Eclair’s shirt.
“Just having a little fun.”
Dyla stance was relaxed, her hand on her hip.
“That’s quite enough, I think.”
The waitress sized up Dyla.
“Oh, I don’t think so, sweetie. Around here I do what I please, and I take what I want.”
“Not this time.”
The waitress had anticipated Dyla’s attack, but not the swiftness of it. Before she could react, Dyla grabbed her in a rear chokehold, and twisted her arm in a brutal hammerlock, pulling her away from Eclair.
Darius sprang to his feet.
“Ladies, come now. There’s no need for that. Dyla, I’ll take care of her for you.”
“The hell you will,” came a roar from behind Darius.
Munroe’s man was bearing down on Darius with murder in his eyes. Darius neatly sidestepped the brute, who smashed into the table and sent the drink flying. Eclair quickly stood and stepped back from the fray; satisfied to watch the events unfold this time.
The big man quickly recovered his balance, and swung a vicious back fist in Darius’s direction. Darius easily ducked the blow, and again sidestepped the assault. The big man swung around to face Darius head on.
“You’ve got some fancy footwork there, punk, but you can’t dance away forever.”
As the man grabbed the front of his shirt, Darius reached over the tops of the brute’s arms, and pulled them down at the elbows, locking them into his chest. Struggling hard, the man could not free his arms from the iron grip that held him.
The man quickly realized the extent of the danger he was in, and knew that Darius could take him out in the blink of an eye. He stood stock-still. Darius stared at the man’s eyes, mere inches from his own. It took only a second to read his mind.
Darius released him, pushing him away.
“Go, get away; and ask Munroe if we have passed his little test,” Darius commanded.
Dyla released the waitress, and they watched the two retreat to the back of the bar, licking their wounds.
Eclair calmly sat back down.
“That was interesting,” he said.
“I expected as much from Munroe,” Darius replied.
Darius righted the table, and both he and Dyla took their seats. Munroe soon reappeared.
“I can see you kids can handle yourselves,” he said, with a sly smile.
“We do ok,” Darius answered. “How about sending over another round of drinks? Somehow the first ones ended up on the floor.”
Munroe laughed, and signaled the waitress to bring another round.
“Sure, no problem.”
Another waitress brought the drinks to the table. Darius, Dyla and Eclair picked up the mugs and drank heartily.
“Thirsty work,” Darius confided.
“Do you want some food?” Munroe asked.
“No, we ate before we came to your apartment.”
“Good. I have secured two rooms for you upstairs. Shall we go?”
“One room will be enough,” Dyla answered.
“Whatever you want.”
Munroe led them upstairs. The room was good sized, comfortably furnished with two reclining chairs, a single bed pushed against the far wall, and a small table, with three mismatched chairs, by the window. Dyla sat on the bed, and Eclair and Darius each took a chair at the table.
Munroe sat in a recliner.
“Shall we dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business?”
“Yes, no more tests, no more games,” Darius said, staring hard at Munroe.
“How about a bit of honesty as well,” Munroe said. “I have a funny feeling that you know more about me than I do about you. I don’t believe for a minute that you’re the misbegotten descendants of some ancient Saxon clans that invaded England.”
“What do you mean?” Eclair asked.
“Oh please, that story you told was quite the tale. It was rich in detail and fit wonderfully in a time when there isn’t much written record left. I give you kids credit. You’ve done your homework. It was quite the tale, but I remember reading a story just like it when I was a child.”
Munroe looked at Darius.
“As for handling yourselves, no one has taken out those two downstairs so quickly, or effortlessly, in quite some time. That tells me you’ve had some training.”
Munroe leaned back comfortably in his chair.
“There’s one thing bothering me, though. Who are you running from?”
Darius spoke up before Dyla or Eclair could answer.
“They call him Blackheart.”
“You’re kidding! Sir Henry ‘Blackheart’ Hanover, the crime boss of London’s East End? That Blackheart?”
Munroe leaned forward, his curiosity definitely piqued.
“How did you get on his bad side?” he asked.
“Suffice it to say that we have a mutual interest in certain objects of antiquity, and this Blackheart guy didn’t like our attentions,” Darius explained. “Rather than have us as competitors, he thought to eliminate us. At least that’s what his men tried to do.”
Munroe stroked his chin.
“So all this pretense of yours, claiming that the goblets were part of your family’s history, that was your cover to get close to the artifacts? Then what?”
Dyla interrupted the men’s conversation.
“Darius, tell him how we’re planning to get more artifacts.”
Munroe was surprised by Dyla’s interruption. He thought he had them figured out, but they were constantly throwing him curve balls.
“Yes, Darius, please, do tell,” he said.
“Fine, we plan on stealing them.”
Munroe exhaled loudly and his grin grew wider as he looked from Darius to Dyla to Eclair.
Excerpt from the field journal of Catiana Spencer:
The field of antiquities has abounded with Ancient Art, and its corresponding forgeries, for as long as art has been collected. Most experts agree that only about 75% of artifacts that are purported to be ancient are, in fact, genuine. The amount of wealth that surrounds most antiquities is astonishing, and draws the attention of collectors from all walks of life. To that end, a flourishing black market has arisen to take advantage of those unknowing collectors that insist on buying from disreputable proprietors. By close inspection and careful scientific measurement of ancient metal, certain trace impurities can be discerned that can lead to the age, and even regions of origin, of the artifact. Care must b
e taken, though, because clever thieves will use old metal to create forged pieces that will pass most metallurgic dating tests.
Chapter 31 – The Plan
“We’re treasure hunters, just like you,” Darius began. “We’ve been commissioned to retrieve certain artifacts, similar to the ones you have, at all costs and in any manner necessary. We’re being paid handsomely for our services. Our benefactor knows of Blackheart and his collection. He sent us to inquire about it. Unfortunately, our appearance was met with hostility, and we now believe Blackheart has certain interests in finding us and our benefactor.”
“And how did that lead you to me?” Munroe asked, suspiciously.
“We had to take another tack in acquiring the pieces, as the direct approach turned out so disastrously. We began our search again by researching historical information concerning the period. That’s how we met Cat. A fortuitous meeting, that eventually led us to you. Cat does not know what we really do; she believes we are what we said, collectors.
Munroe was suspicious. Their story was too convenient, too pat.
“Quite the story,” he said, stalling for time. “You all seem adept at telling them. So tell me, am I supposed to believe this new tale you’ve spun.”
Darius was undaunted. “Believe what you will, but I have something that will interest you no matter the tale behind it.”
“And what might that be?” Munroe asked.
Darius reached into his pocket, and pulled out three gold pieces.
He stretched out his hand to Munroe.
“This.”
Munroe exhaled.
“Now you’ve got my attention. Where are they from?”
“Does it matter?” Dyla said. “The only question that really matters is whether they interest you or not?”
Dyla had been sensing Munroe’s emotions while Darius talked. Munroe had become less suspicious, but more reserved in his manner towards them.
“Darius give Munroe one of the coins for his help with our accommodations,” she commanded.
Darius flipped him a coin.
The Quest for Nobility Page 23