by K. T. Tomb
“It’s poisoned!” he cried, just as he tipped forward from his seat to join his men among the floor cushions.
***
When he awoke, the visitor found himself lying on the cold floor of an outside structure, and looking up at the brightness of the full moon.
He managed to rise carefully to his feet, concentrating on the sounds around him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and shadows of the night around him. Then he heard a sound which turned his blood to ice. It was a scream in the distance. He backed up against a nearby wall and stood still, listening. Another scream soon pierced the night and the visitor began to run. He groped along the darkened pathway between two high walls running as fast as he could. He came to a right turn, then a left and then he was at a dead end. He clawed at the wall in front of him and another shrill scream came to his ears. It seemed closer this time and he turned and ran again. Soon he came to an intersection with one corridor to the right and another to his left. He groaned to himself, it was a labyrinth. Stopping to catch his breath, he strained to hear the cause of the screams. He could scarcely hear the sounds of the night over the pounding of his own heart in his ears but then there came the distinct sound of a bull snorting loudly, menacingly. It sounded close.
Again he ran, choosing to go along the corridor which went to his left. The snorting sound was approaching rapidly behind him and as he made the next turn, he found himself at another dead end. He didn’t have the time to turn back and desperately he clawed at the wall before him. In the darkness his hand pressed against a loose stone and instantaneously the wall leaped back from him revealing a passageway beyond it. He stepped through it and pushed the wall back into place. The visitor stood alone in the passageway with his back against the wall and waited patiently for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He looked to his left and then to his right but only saw the deepness of the black space that surrounded him. He felt helpless and more frightened than he had ever been in his entire life.
“Gods save me,” he whispered softly into the dark and held his head in his hands.
There was a soft rustle and he looked down the corridor to his right. He thought he was dreaming as he saw a small flame approaching him from the distance. It was the light from a torch and as it approached he could see the billowing of the fabric from the dress the torchbearer wore, a red dress. Her face was obscured by the beautiful mask she wore and as she approached him she raised her fingers to the masks’ lips to signal that he remain silent. The mask was exquisite, made of polished bronze with filigree designs of gold and amber stones worked delicately along its right side. When she stopped before him, the visitor whimpered again as if to scream but the woman put her fingers to his lips for him to be quiet. He swallowed hard and nodded.
She handed him the torch and motioned for him to follow her, which he did, walking swiftly down the corridors around twists and turns as if she were native to its confusing darkness. Soon they emerged through a doorway again into the light of the full moon and the visitor realized that he had been led right back into the middle of the labyrinth which he had just barely escaped from. Swiftly, he turned to flee but the woman was gone and so was the mysterious doorway they had just walked through. He groaned and turned again to run toward the labyrinth just as the blade passed through him. As he paused, impaled by the sharp thrusted metal, he looked to see the face of his assailant. His mouth formed to say the words but nothing came from his lips. As he died, somewhere in Knossos that night, the last thing he ever saw was the Minoan Mask.
Chapter One
“Colleagues, Dignitaries of the Greek government, patrons and friends; tonight we gather to celebrate the culmination of my life’s work and the discovery of a lifetime,” Professor Cartwright began after mounting the podium and clearing his throat in order to draw the attention of the room. “After six long months under the heat of the Cretian summer sun, we proudly present to you a display of the artifacts uncovered at the site of Daedelaus’ legendary labyrinth. Thought to be a mythical story, we have this year proved that there is indeed some fact to be found among the pages of the sagas and legends of world history; giving even more credence to the thought that archaeology isn’t a waste of time after all.”
The audience laughed and applauded his comment and after a brief moment, the professor raised his hand to the crowd.
It felt amazing to finally be out of the heat and dust of the dig sites at Knossos and back into some semblance of civilization.
Heraklion had been a very urban city to be close to but there had been no attraction for her there, mostly distraction. A bustling center of commerce and tourism, Chyna had found the city of less cultural substance and more of a place to grab a cold beer and a warm shower before driving back out to work at the archaeological site where she was stationed. It had been a long six months but they had managed to uncover the greatest find on the island on over one hundred years since Sir Arthur Evans had first discovered the forgotten city in 1900.
The team had stumbled upon strange wall formations outside the main walls of the city. The walls seemed to form the pattern of a large square with interlocking and intersecting concentric squares moving inwards evenly toward the structures center; The Labyrinth. As soon as she had been told about the formation, she had been on the very next flight to Athens. It didn’t take Chyna long, after seeing what was being unearthed, to call her assistant Lana back in the New York offices of Found History and instruct her to get to Crete with her best equipment and as fast as she could. The girls had been working together for more than five years, ever since Chyna’s father, famed archaeologist William Stone, had retired from digs to curate a small but affluent ancient artifact museum in California. Together, they had continued the consulting and appraisal work of Found History to much international acclaim.
Indeed, it had been a long six months but the reward had been astounding. To have found the mythical labyrinth built by Daedelaus had been life changing for them and the festivities at the University of Athens were to celebrate that very triumph. The lead archaeologist who had called them in to consult on the dig was present, so were all the members of his team who had become their family during the time they had spent on Crete. Professor Cartwright would have it no other way. Strict and proper, as the British often tend to be, he tolerated no dissension among his ranks. His resolve had been tested by only one team member, Ethan Doyle; a cantankerous young man from a rich family of adventurers who was convinced he knew all there was to know about ancient Greece. Before departing after his dismissal, he had cursed them all, vowing that they hadn’t heard the last of him. She wasn’t sure why that incident entered her head as she moved toward the podium. After all, they were in Athens to celebrate. She pushed the wandering thought out of her head as she heard Professor Cartwright’s introduction of her.
“Should I be allowed to, I will stand here and talk all night, but I will relinquish the stand to our consultant and partner Miss Chyna Stone of the Found History archaeological company, who was instrumental in locating and uncovering many of the pieces you will be seeing tonight. Please welcome her to the podium.”
Again, the crowd applauded as Chyna mounted the stand and exchanged a hug and kiss with Professor Cartwright. Lana whistled crudely from the sidelines making Chyna smile broadly.
“Good evening everyone and welcome to the University of Athens. Tonight we make history as we unveil to the public the largest collection of Minoan artifacts ever to be assembled in one place since 1500 B.C. This experience has been the hallmark of my career as an archaeologist and it has been a tremendous pleasure to be in the company of such genius over these past months. As most of my colleagues will agree, it was a hard existence but the work was worth it. We did it!”
Those who had worked alongside her cheered and the audience applauded along with them.
“Tonight we are all eager to share some of our excitement with you.”
She paused once more as polite applause died out before continuing.<
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“When Sir Arthur Evans discovered Knossos in 1900, he searched tirelessly for more proof to the myth of Daedelaus, Icarus and King Minos but for the next five years he could not find the site. With the use of satellite imagery and our expounded knowledge of the ancient Greeks, this year Professor Cartwright was successful in this. The story goes that King Minos contracted Daedelaus to build the labyrinth to contain a Minotaur; a creature that was half man and half bull which he relished in throwing his enemies to. He would challenge them by saying that if they survived the Minotaur and his maze then they could have whatever they desired of him. Daedelaus was so successful in its construction that even he had difficulty emerging from the finished structure; but for the fact that he did, King Minos imprisoned him and his son Icarus in a high tower. The myth of their escape is an entirely different story but I think we all know how Icarus flew too close to the sun and fell to drown in the sea.
“Cuneiform tablets found in the palace ruins of Knossos by Sir Evans spoke of the riches of King Minos and of some of his treasured items, none of which Sir Evans could locate since the tablets placed them in a chamber within the labyrinth. However, the true triumph of our expedition was the discovery of King Minos’ legendary treasury and all the items listed on those tablets found years ago.” Chyna paused as the crowd gasped. They had not revealed that piece of information to the public before; even the representatives of the local authorities had helped to keep it a secret until the unveiling.
“All, excepting a bronze mask described as being decorated with gold filigree and set with amber stones, which we have nicknamed the Minoan Mask. We do have our speculations of the possible fate of the mask but that is another theory to be proven, for another expedition and for another day. Tonight, we invite you to gaze with delight upon the Minoan Treasury of Knossos.”
At that, the doors to the exhibition room were opened and the crowd poured in to take a look at the priceless objects they had found. With a look of satisfaction on her face, Chyna stepped down from the podium and went to hug her assistant, Lana. She took the glass of whiskey the waiter offered her over the bar and she took a quick sip.
“Aren’t you going in?” Lana grinned.
“Not right now, Lana, I’ve seen it all already. I just want to breathe, and drink and relax in one of those comfortable looking armchairs right over there,” She responded, pointing and leading the way. “Let them regale themselves in our brilliance for a while.”
“Indeed, Chyna, by the way, cocky much?” she quipped as they took a seat by the window which overlooked the vast university grounds. The night was dark but the lawns and pathways were elegantly lit. “Why did you choose to mention the Minoan Mask?”
“I can’t help it; its absence from the horde still baffles me. How could we have found every single piece from a list of over a hundred treasures and the only thing missing was that mask?”
“Do you think there’s a story behind its disappearance?”
“No, I’m sure that there’s a story behind it.”
Just then, Chyna caught a glimpse of a man hurrying into the exhibition hall. He looked very familiar but as she tried to get a better look at his face he vanished behind a group of people who stood talking in the doorway. She dismissed it and turned her attention back to Lana and their conversation.
“Well, tell me what you know,” she pressed.
Chyna put her drink down on the table between them and leaned forward. She took her Smartphone from her jacket pocket and swiped her code on the screen.
Pointing to a map of the Grecian Sea, she said, “I think it’s here.”
“That’s the middle of the ocean, Chyna,” Lana scoffed. “Miles from Crete. How would that have happened?”
“That’s the part we have to investigate, my friend. Do you remember the story of the Dorian Invasion? How Artemesia and her father invaded Crete even though Minos had agreed to their peace terms and married her?”
“Vaguely, I’m not as up on my ancient Greek history as I used to be.”
“She betrayed him because after their marriage he placed her among his wives and concubines instead of deposing his first wife Pelephone for her. She was a princess after all, how could he count her as a sixth wife? So she plotted with her father and they invaded Crete in spite of their peace agreement, but not before she stole all the treasure that Minos had not placed in the treasury and took them to sea with her aboard the ships that she commanded.”
Chyna paused to sip her drink.
“Go on,” Lana urged her.
“Well Artemisia’s ships were pursued by a fleet from Heraklion and they engaged them in battle just south of Thira. I think that they lost their course either while fleeing or maybe they came upon a storm but they may have been lost or wrecked further north near Mikonos. In any case, the satellite imagery I found indicates a mass off the coast of Cesme, which I think is the ship bone yard of Artemesia’s fleet.”
“Oh dear, Chyna. Have you told anyone else about this?”
“Absolutely not, Lana, I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to speak to Professor Cartwright about it but everything has been revolving around the opening here. And it wasn’t exactly the right time.”
Lana nodded her head in agreement and lifted her glass from the table to make a quiet toast.
“Well then here’s to our next adventure and prolonged stay in the Mediterranean.”
“Cheers to that!” Chyna agreed; neither of them were particularly excited about the prospect of returning to New York in the dead of winter. The state had been experiencing the most severe December weather on record for years.
As the girls sipped their drinks and looked about the room, Chyna saw the man again. He darted quickly out of the exhibition hall and headed straight toward the exit. Before he stepped through he turned to look around the room. Chyna almost dropped her glass as she stood quickly to meet his eyes. It was Ethan Doyle and he didn’t seem pleased to have been spotted. He ran out the door and into the night. Soon after Professor Cartwright came bursting from the hall. When he saw that Ethan had already gone, he turned and walked to where the girls were standing by the window seats.
“Did you see him?”
“I did, professor. Why was he here?”
“That I don’t know,” he replied sadly. “What I do know is that he made off with the docket that was in front of the empty case we put up in honor of the Minoan Mask.”
“Oh, that’s hardly a threat, it only had information in it that we intended for public knowledge anyway,” Chyna said, relieved and taking her seat again.
“That’s true, but now he knows just as much as the rest of us do, which is something I hoped to avoid.”
“Not exactly,” Lana chimed in, lifting her glass to her lips again.
The professor wrinkled his brow as he looked at the two of them.
“Professor Cartwright, I think you should have a seat with us,” Chyna said.
As the last of the dawdling crowd began to leave the exhibition hall, Chyna was summing up her story of speculation to the professor about the location of the mask. There was a look of utter amazement on his face as he leaned back in the chair and put his hands into his pockets. He came up with a pack of Rothmans’ cigarettes in one and a shiny silver lighter in the other. Chyna knew from the time spent in Knossos that he only smoked when he was nervous or deep in thought, or both as was the case at that moment.
As he lit the cigarette, he said, “Thank God the Greeks haven’t implemented any of those pesky anti-smoking laws as yet.”
The girls laughed, indeed most Mediterranean and “Near East” countries had not yet done so.
“Will this be the next expedition for Found History then, Chyna?” he asked.
“Most certainly, Professor,” she replied, “and we were sort of hoping that you would come along with us. We both know you’re a venerated deep sea diver.”
“That I am,” he said, smiling, “and I would be delighted to come along. I think we n
eed another person in our little troupe though, someone with in-depth knowledge of the area, the customs and who can grease a few wheels for us if the need arises.”
“Fariha!” both girls said in unison.
The professor smiled and nodded his head.
***
“It’s not often that I get invited to secret archaeology meetings,” Fariha joked. As she took her seat around the table on the balcony of Chyna and Lana’s hotel suite, her excitement was obvious.
Fariha Katsakis was a long time associate of Professor Cartwright’s. She had been among his student archaeology teams since her first year in his graduate program at the University of Aberdeen. When she graduated she had been immediately snapped up by the Greek Archaeological Service as a chief field agent. Whenever there was something of interest happening or the professor was on a dig in the region, Fariha did what she had to in order to be attached to the case. It had been Fariha whom Ethan had tried to assault in Knossos, and which was the reason for his immediate dismissal from the project.
“It’s not often that we hold them,” Lana returned.
Chyna opened the door to let the professor in and they too took their seats. Lana unrolled the charts and opened the reference books to the marked pages.
“Fariha, by now I know Cartwright has filled you in but I do hope he did so carefully. After seeing Ethan Doyle lurking around at the opening the other night, I’m not convinced that we aren’t under surveillance.”
The others looked at each other quizzically but Chyna remained as serious as a judge.
