Valley of Thracians (22 page)

Boris knew that Scott held the key to
the location of the missing artifact. If he could find Scott, he would be one
step closer to recovering the priceless treasure. And this meant he had to get
to Scott before Nikolov learned that the American was still alive.

“Call Vlady now,” Boris instructed his
wife. “The bus will be arriving soon, and we must meet Scott at the station.”

Chapter
43

“Tell me more about ancient Thrace,”
Simon said pleasantly as they drove north.

“You really want to know?” Sophia asked
,
her gaze glued to the narrow highway.

“Sure. We’ve got a ways to go until we
meet up with Scott,” he said, glancing at the green fields bordering the road
and the lofty mountain peaks in the distance, scenery familiar from their
previous trip to the Peace Corps training center in Vratsa. Simon was so wound
up with excitement about the upcoming reunion with his grandson that he sought
some form of distraction to calm his nerves. He hoped an academic discussion
between university professors would stimulate his mind, and also, he admitted
to himself, he was fascinated with Sophia and longed to get to know her better.

“Where did the name Thrace come from?”

“We’re talking about a civilization that
rose to importance in the fourth century BC,” Sophia began slowly. “The name
Thrace was actually given to the region, and to its inhabitants, by the Greeks.
In fact, the first reference to the Thracians is in the
Iliad
, which described them as allies of the Trojans. The Thracians
included a distinct group of militant tribes that lived in this area, and they
had their own language, kings, burial customs, and cultures. They fought
against the ancient Greeks and Persians, were conquered by Philip of Macedonia
and later by the Romans. Considered to be ruthless warriors, they were hired by
their conquerors as mercenaries, and apparently they enjoyed the looting and
pillaging that came in the wake of their battles. Oh, I’m sorry, now this is
starting to sound like one of my lectures in the university!”

He laughed and reached down to massage a
cramp in his left leg. “Tell me, Sophia, how did you become interested in all
of this? I’ve told you about my academic career, but you haven’t said too much
about yours.”

“Oh, it’s really not that interesting. I
would just bore you.”

“No, of course you wouldn’t!”

She was silent for a few minutes, her
own eagerness at the impending meeting with Scott hidden by efforts to
concentrate on the driving. How much should she tell Simon about her career?
How much was she allowed to tell him? Revealing too much would jeopardize
everything. She needed to be careful what she said.

She was on safe ground talking about her
early days in academia. She recalled the thrill she felt when first learning of
her country’s glorious past and how she had been just as stimulated by library
research as with participating in on-site explorations. She had reveled in the
studies, welcoming her newly gained perspectives of those long-ago
civilizations with heartfelt excitement as if they were monumental discoveries.
More than anything, she remembered her heated confrontations with an esteemed
Bulgarian archaeologist, public arguments that had established her as an expert
in Thracian history and culture.

“The ancient Thracians were not
barbarians—far from it,” the lecturer informed the audience in the university
auditorium. “They were skilled metal workers, adept at creating the finest
jewelry and working with the most-valued metals. The Thracians were a highly
militaristic tribal people, feared throughout the Balkans as they expanded
their sphere of influence. Their wealth rivaled that of the surrounding
countries of that age. Their sculptures were crafted with remarkable artisan
skills and were often crowned with semiprecious stones. The Thracians were
knowledgeable in the science of viniculture and engaged in elaborate drinking
rituals. They believed in resurrection after death and buried their leaders in
opulent tombs full of objects that would be used in the afterlife. In short,
the Thracians who lived in our country should be regarded with the same esteem
as the ancient Greeks and Romans, for they, too, were a people who raised
civilization into the Modern Age,” he concluded.

The audience rose to applaud the
lecturer, with the ensuing snap of row after row of wooden seats announcing
mass departure from the hall. Sophia, an eager student struggling with the
demands of her thesis work, hurried toward the front to engage the speaker.

“Professor Smirnenski,” Sophia said,
calling to the man as he spoke to some of the university staff lingering around
the podium. “May I have a word with you?”

“Ah, Sophia, the ascetic student of
ancient Thrace,” he replied with a wink of his eye. “Did you enjoy the
lecture?”

“Yes, you really know the subject
matter,” she said. “But you didn’t speak of your methodology.”

“Methodology?” he asked, bidding
farewell to a colleague and moving with Sophia to the side of the emptying
hall.

“Your methods are quite controversial,”
she stated. “You have been highly criticized for sensationalizing Bulgarian
archaeology because of the way you work. I had been hoping that you would discuss
this in your lecture.”

“Why would the audience be interested in
methods, when the results are much more fascinating? And, you must admit, what
we’ve found is so spectacular, so indicative of the power and knowledge and
craftsmanship of the ancient
Thracians, that
it was
worth everything we did.”

Professor Todor Smirnenski, white-haired
in a grandfatherly fashion, was an internationally acclaimed archaeologist who
frequently lectured at the university. He was known throughout the world of
archaeologists for his role in excavating some of the most magnificent Thracian
burial tombs in central Bulgaria. Although many of the sepulchers had been
looted in ancient times, the relics Smirnenski discovered in untouched sites
were sensational, and they changed how modern scholars regarded the Thracian
people and their rulers.

“The audience might not be interested in
your methods, but other scholars are. And your methods are destroying some of
our most important archaeological ruins,” Sophia said, challenging the lecturer.

“Did you come here to listen to my words
or to argue with me?” Professors Smirnenski responded, the remains of a
hesitant smile wavering on his lips.

“Is it not true that you’ve used
bulldozers to open some of the burial mounds during excavations in the Valley
of the Thracian Kings?” Sophia charged, continuing her line of questioning as
if she were a prosecutor in a court of law. “Don’t you know how much permanent
damage that is doing to these historic sites?”

“Young lady, I don’t believe that I have
to defend myself against your impolite accusations,” he said, the smile fading
from his face. “Even so, let me just say this. You may believe that brushes and
trowels are more appropriate for use in the tombs we’ve discovered—and normally
I would agree with you. However, these are trying times. There are those who
seek to profit from our finds, those who don’t hesitate to loot and rob the
ancient Thracian treasures we’ve unveiled. These unscrupulous individuals use
the most modern means of extraction, with little regard for what they’re
extracting. We need to use bulldozers and other heavy machinery to win the race
against profiteers who don’t hesitate to employ high-tech gear and speedy
off-road vehicles.

“The looters, they dig day and night. As
a result, some of the greatest treasures have been stolen right out of our
hands. Young lady, there are those who think that my methods are destroying the
burial mounds. I pity these detractors because they are missing the bigger
picture. Look at what my work has done for the Thracians and their role in
history. Look at what my work has done for Bulgaria!”

Sophia was about to say that much more
could be done for Bulgaria if excavations were conducted in a more controlled
manner, but the archaeologist’s hand was raised, his index finger held high
with a sharp demand that she remain quiet.

“I think you have quite the nerve to
attack me like this, charging that I am destroying our national heritage when I
have done so much to preserve it,” Smirnenski concluded, and then he walked away
quickly without looking back.

When the professor slammed the door
behind him, Sophia was left alone in the lecture hall. To her dismay, the
lights were being switched off, section by section, leaving her standing at the
front in near total darkness. She hurried toward the exit.

Her apartment in the center of Sofia was
far from welcoming. She and Georgi lived a spartan life, unable to afford
furnishings that were basic necessities for many. They didn’t own a television;
purchasing such a luxurious appliance would strain their already tight
finances. As a result, Georgi spent most evenings drinking with friends at a
neighborhood pub. This was just fine with her, giving her the freedom to study
without distraction.

Georgi was employed as an instructor in
the athletics department of a nearby primary school, while she devoted her time
to completing her doctorate. Georgi took little interest in her subject matter,
but she continued to be spellbound by the ancient peoples and cultures that
lived in the region. She had completed her Thracian history studies with
distinction, following that with a Masters in Ancient History. Now all that was
left was to finish her doctoral thesis, with the chosen subject for her final
paper to be
The Symbolism of Thracian Rhytons and Other Ritual Objects
.

The word
rhyton
, Sophia knew,
derived from a Greek word that meant “to flow,” and more commonly referred to
the action of pouring. A
rhyton
, therefore, was a container from which
liquids were poured, or from which fluids were intended for drinking, and which
was used in ritual ceremonies, such as a libation offering to the gods.
Rhytons
usually featured a wide mouth at the top and a small hole at the bottom. One
would scoop up a quantity of liquid, such as wine or water, from a storage
container, while covering the hole at the bottom, and then one would hold the
vessel in the air to allow the liquid to flow downward into the mouth.

Rhytons
had been common in many of the ancient Middle Eastern and Near Eastern
civilizations, from the Greeks to the Persians. Also known as drinking horns,
rhytons
were originally carved out of animal parts, such as the horns of bulls and
goats, but archaeological excavations had failed to unearth specimens to prove
this theory due to the decay of the items. Later,
rhytons
were sculpted
out of clay or metal. The Bronze Age Minoans of Crete crowned their vessels
with silver and gold bull heads bearing small openings permitting wine to be
poured from their mouths. In Persia,
rhytons
were typically made of
precious metals.

The writings of Xenophon, a Greek
historian soldier who was a contemporary of Socrates, indicated that drinking
horns were an integral part of the region’s religious ceremonies
kata ton
Thrakion nomon
(“after the Thracian fashion”). Sophia relished this
information, digging repeatedly into the ancient texts to shed further light
into the role
rhytons
played in Balkan life.

It was Professor Smirnenski who had
discovered the Rogozen Drinking Lion in the village of Rogozen in northwestern
Bulgaria in 1985. The Rogozen Drinking Lion was the largest, most magnificent
rhyton
ever discovered in Bulgaria.
Almost half a meter in length and weighing nearly two kilograms, this unique
Thracian vessel was completely silver, but covered at its ends with pearls, a
sign that it had belonged to a royal family, possibly to King Seuthes himself.

As part of her studies, Sophia made
several visits to the museum in Vratsa where the Rogozen Drinking Lion, along
with other Thracian artifacts, was on display. No matter how many times she
visited the museum, she was always awestruck by the ornate drinking vessel, its
lower part a finely carved lion’s head, with a mouth hole for drinking. As the
item was housed in a glass display case, Sophia was unable to see the small
letters carved on its inner rim, but she knew that the translation of this
ancient Thracian script meant “Mother Earth.”

Sophia couldn’t help but fantasize about
that long-ago gathering, with Thracian ruler Seuthes on one side surrounded by
his wives, and across from them, reclining on silk cushions, the delegation
from powerful Athens, including the visiting Greek soldier and his party.

“When
they had poured libations and sang the paean, the Thracians rose up to begin
the program and danced in armor to a flute accompaniment,
”
Xenophon wrote of the encounter.

In his book
Anabasis,
in which he
described his adventures and journeys, Xenophon wrote of the
dancers
leaping up in the air with their weapons brandished. At the climax of their
dance, one would strike another with such a seemingly stunning blow that the
audience thought the victim was dead. The scene was so vivid, and the
description so real, that Sophia knew that Xenophon’s writings would be
permanently embedded in her mind. This was the scene that guided her studies
and kept her focused on her subject matter.

Sophia would have continued on an
unremarkable path to a doctorate followed by years of undistinguished academia
if it had not been for her attending a press conference called by the university.
Professor Smirnenski was due to announce a major new discovery, and the campus
buzzed with anticipation of what this could mean. Sophia reserved a seat, just
as eager as the others to learn what ancient wonder would be revealed by the
eminent archaeologist.