Blades of Valor (19 page)

The passage of a moment became meaningless. The peace within him expanded and rushed outward, as if Thomas himself were becoming a part of the spider, of the bush, of the hawk.

My God,
he thought,
again, I find myself facing death and crying out to You. But this time I am more than a boy, selfish and frightened of dying. I see life all around me, and in that life, I see You. How can I deny what my soul continually cries? You are Master of all of this. How can I fear death?

“No!” a voice reached Thomas. “Do not kill him!”

Thomas blinked.

The pain of his swollen mouth returned. The throbbing of his blistered feet, the ache of his arms. No longer did it seem he could hear the spider’s steps across the boulder, no longer did it seem he rode the wind on the shoulder of a hawk.

“You dare speak out of turn, girl?” Rashim roared. “Why would I take orders from you?”

Katherine bit her lip and cast her eyes downward.

Rashim sneered. “What is his life worth to you? I might be willing to make another bargain. A new bargain.” He raised his hand and she cowered, but instead of hitting her, he caressed her cheek. “For the right offer, I might even share this wealth.”

“What if this is not the right cave?” Katherine asked. “Do we have time to search all the others? Will the soldiers remain in pursuit of the others indefinitely?”

Rashim pursed his lips together, not fully convinced.

“And you alone know how to escape this maze of rock. You mustn’t be hurt. Send Thomas ahead.”

“What if he perishes in pursuit of our treasure? Will you blame me for his death and withhold from me your own … treasures?”

Katherine’s eyes narrowed. “I want to live. I can only live if you live. Allow Thomas to seek our fortune. If anything befalls him in his quest, I will know that at least my life shall be preserved. Even if that life must be spent with you.”

Rashim smiled. “That is no way to convince me, girl. But you are bound by your word, and these men are witnesses. And your foolish prattle has caused me to realize something far more valuable than executing this man. Yes, your friend shall live. For now. Let him be inflicted by vipers. Let him stumble into bottomless pits. Let him risk his life for us. I wish for us to live in luxury.”

Thomas stared at the ground. He told himself that she again was bargaining for time, forestalling as long as possible the moment of their deaths, hoping against all hope that something might occur to set them free.

But enough truth rang from her voice for him to feel the gnawing of doubt, and he realized he would rather have died than discover betrayal by her inside the cave.

Rashim thought for only a few seconds.

“Find brush for torches,” he directed his men. “We shall let the knight and his friend direct our way.”

He grabbed Katherine by the arm and pinched cruelly. “This one remains with me as we follow. Should she—or they—falter, I will slice her throat.”

Thomas and Sir William stood side by side, ten paces ahead of Rashim and Katherine and the five other bandits.

“The strength of your arm?” Sir William whispered.

“I can barely hold this torch,” Thomas replied. His fingers were still numb, even though the bonds had been cut fifteen minutes earlier.

“Begin!” shouted Rashim. His voice now reflected nervousness. He was accustomed to ruling other men, not searching for the tomb of long-dead Roman soldiers.

Rashim’s command still echoed as Thomas and Sir William moved ahead. The cave roof was beyond the reach of the flames of the torch, and the light that licked into all corners cast yellow fingers and gray shadows that made it difficult to judge the depth of the passage.

“Tell me when your strength has returned,” Sir William whispered as they shuffled ahead.

Only a part of Thomas’s mind heard. Another part was repeating Rashim’s words:
“Vipers and bottomless pits.”
What was ahead of them?

Thomas focused on the ground immediately in front. Their light was not strong enough to illuminate much beyond them, and to search the far shadows played too many tricks with his imagination.

“Tell me when your strength has returned,” Sir William whispered again.

“We cannot attack,” Thomas countered with equal softness. “He holds a knife to Katherine’s throat. And we have no weapons.”

“Where we find treasure, we will find the remains of soldiers,” Sir William said. “Where we find those soldiers, we will find their weapons.”

Yes! The knight was correct. It increased their odds, no matter how slim! Thomas grinned into the darkness ahead. And immediately regretted it. His lips cracked again and he tasted his own blood.

His mind now raced.
We have succeeded in dividing this small army of bandits. Our hands are now free. We may have weapons soon. But how to get Katherine from the knife at her throat?

Another thought.
Will the sight of treasure prove to be enough of a distraction? Will that give the knight the final edge he needs?

The cave tunnel widened suddenly into a hall.

Light gleamed off something metal at the far corner of their vision.

“How much farther?” demanded Rashim. Thomas could hear Rashim’s quickened breathing.
His fear will be to our advantage as well.

“I cannot say,” Thomas called back. “But look here. Signs of those who lived in this cave!”

The gleam of light off bronze became a wide, rounded bowl and intricately designed pitchers.

“Keep your distance,” Rashim warned.

Thomas and Sir William moved ahead.

Behind them, they heard the clang of metal against metal as one of the bandits prodded the vessels with a sword.

The hall narrowed again, became one passage and then almost immediately divided into two.

“Which side?” the knight asked.

“Does it matter?” Thomas replied. “This entire cave must be explored.”

Thomas dared not voice his single biggest fear—that the treasure already was plundered. Obscure and remote as this cave was, what if another over the centuries had solved the riddle?

What if—

Thomas tensed.

Intent on watching the ground for snakes, he noticed something the knight had missed.

A footprint. Then another and another. Dozens.

Then he relaxed.

In this still air, a footprint would be preserved for centuries.

The tunnel widened again, and looking back at the torches of the bandits, Thomas could see that the other passage, the one they had chosen to ignore, had rejoined them again.

They moved into another hall and discovered a basket of skulls, a tangled fishing net, and a large basin scooped into a wall.

“Water reservoir,” Sir William whispered. “Dozens of people may have lived in this cave!”

“Move quickly!” Rashim called.

Thomas hoped Rashim’s knife would not tremble against Katherine’s throat with the anxiety now so obvious in his voice.

Farther on they found a bundle of letters, the edges of the parchment so well preserved that Thomas relaxed. This parchment has withstood the centuries, just as the footprints.

The hall ended abruptly.

Thomas and the knight carefully searched for another passage, but found none.

“We return,” Thomas announced to the bandits who still followed ten paces behind. “There is one other passage to explore. One where this hall began.”

The bandits gave them ample room to move by. Despite the threat of a knife at Katherine’s throat, Thomas realized, despite the weapons they held, they still feared the knight’s fighting ability.
They didn’t know enough to fear Thomas’s military prowess. But with any luck, they would learn quickly.

The realization gave him even more hope.

Now, we must find the treasure.

Twenty steps down the other passage, they did.

Thirty-Seven

T
homas and Sir William held their torches out over the pit. The light did not extend downward enough to show the bottom, nor the other side.

“What is it?” Rashim asked from behind them. “Why do you stop? What do you see?”

“Only darkness,” the knight replied. “The darkness of a great pit.”

Thomas lifted his light to survey the nearby cave floor. At the edge of the light, he saw a ladder made of rope. He retrieved it and lifted it partway to his waist, so that Rashim could see it too.

“The treasure lies below,” Thomas said with a confidence he did not feel.
Why else would a ladder have been left nearby?

“Hurry then,” Rashim said. “Bring me a sample.”

Thomas knew he must continue to act the role of one helpless with the fear of death. It was an easy role to play.

He bowed his head as if he had been beaten. Then he noticed a small line of dark powder that circled the edge of the pit.

He dropped the ladder, fell to his knees to retrieve it, and managed to smear some of the powder on his fingers.

Strange,
he thought as he turned his back and touched the powder lightly with his tongue.
This bitterness has a familiar taste. And why should a line of it surround this pit?

He had no time to ponder.

Two of the bandits were at his side, holding their hands out to grasp the rope ladder.

They lowered it over the side.

Another bandit prodded Thomas with the point of his sword.

With pretended reluctance, Thomas began to climb downward. The bandits were so large and held the rope so steady that the ladder hardly moved at all with his full weight upon it.

Thomas took one final look upward to mark Sir William’s position.
If I find swords below, I cannot falter upon my return. I must toss him one without hesitation.

Sir William’s strong face regarded him without changing expression. Then a slow wink, and Thomas felt strengthened.

Thomas lowered himself slowly, one hand holding the side of the rope ladder, another the torch.

How far down?

He counted twenty-five steps, then touched bottom.

“What do you see?” Rashim called down.

Thomas realized that from Rashim’s position, there would only be the glare of the torchlight. No one on the edge above would be able to see below the torch, see what Thomas now beheld.

There were piles of large leather bags stacked along one of the smooth vertical walls of the pit. The bags bulged as if filled with stones.

Gold?

Thomas moved sideways, still carrying the torch high so that the glare of the light shielded the observers above.

He kicked at one of the bags. The preserved leather, dried from centuries of cool air, broke open. Chunks of gold trinkets and scattered jewels fell on the floor.

“What is it?” Rashim called again.

Thomas did not reply. He cared little for the treasure, glad only it could be used as a distraction.

He needed to find swords.

Thomas moved again, roving around the bottom of the pit. And nearly stumbled over a skeleton. Patches of clothing and armor covered the bones that lay in a curled position, as if the soldier had fallen asleep.

The torchlight flickered over another skeleton. Then another. All in the same positions.

Horror hit Thomas with the realization of how these soldiers had died.

Someone above had taken the ladder away.

It made too much sense. They would have carried the treasure down, then been abandoned so that the secret of the treasure’s location would die with them.

“What have you found?” Rashim broke through Thomas’s spell of horror.

“The price of greed,” Thomas muttered in a choked voice.

He pushed beyond the terrible sight.
There, stacked neatly against the wall, swords.

Thomas took two and tucked them into the belt beneath his cloak. He hurried back to the leather bags and took a handful of jewels.

Then he dropped the torch and stamped the flame into extinction.

To rise out of the darkness will give an advantage …

“What goes there?” Frustration was evident in Rashim’s voice.

“Treasure!” Thomas tried to mask his grief and disgust as excitement. He could only hate the impulse that had driven men to let others die in this way. And for only the coldness of gold.

“Treasure!” Thomas repeated. “I cannot carry both the torch and gold.”

With that, he began to climb with the awkward one-handed grip he had used to descend, but instead of a torch, he held the only hope there was for survival, jewels and gold. As Thomas neared the top, he tried to block fear from his mind.

There would be so little time and but a single chance to save themselves. One misstep and Katherine would die.

He stepped onto firm ground.

“Yes?” Rashim demanded.

Thomas threw the gold and jewels on the floor of the cave.

Sparkles of light flashed.

The bandits could not resist the impulse to lunge at the glittering wealth.

In that heartbeat, Thomas threw open his cloak, thrust a sword hilt into Sir William’s waiting hand, and without pausing, charged his left shoulder into Rashim’s stomach. As his legs drove forward, Thomas was reaching into his cloak with his right hand for the second sword.