The Flames of Time (Flames of Time Series Book 1)

by Peter Knyte

  ‘We must be quick George!’ he said, turning to me steely eyed, ‘We must get back to the bottom of the rock face, before any of the others get there, and cover the tracks that have been left there.’

  ‘Wait, no, Jean,’ I said, almost spluttering, ‘All is lost here, the tablets are gone, what is there to gain from anything other than abandoning our search and heading back to the boat.’

  I saw it then, a dark edge of sorrow and disappointment in his face, that I almost missed in my confusion, and which for a second I thought was directed at me.

  ‘We are betrayed George,’ he said quietly. ‘It is no coincidence that others have come here, mere days before us, and removed that which we seek… One of us is a traitor, and for reasons known only to himself, does not want us to achieve our goal.’

  I simply couldn’t believe what he had said to me, it was like a thunderclap in my brain, completely paralysing me. I simply looked at him, too shocked to even speak, although in my heart I think I knew he was right. In my head it was still unthinkable that he could be right about one of our friends. If the implications of what he was saying affected Jean in any way, then somehow he’d already managed to move beyond the shock and back into action.

  ‘The only power we have,’ he continued after a moment, ‘the only thing we can do, is to use this betrayal against them. To make them think we do not realise what has happened. Do you understand George… the traitor must not know they are discovered.’

  Though I was still too stunned to think, I indicated I understood what he was saying, and followed him back to the rock face and the main valley. Somehow we managed to climb back down the way we’d come to the copse of trees and the valley floor. And then Jean was giving orders and I was just doing what he said.

  We scattered the food that had been attracting the birds, and then smoothed out the tracks, and removed what other sign we could find, before making our way out of the clearing and back down to where we’d left our packs. We’d been fortunate that the others had taken a while in their searches, so I had a few minutes to pull myself together, before they turned up.

  Realising I was struggling, Jean had kept me busy, sorting out our camp for the evening. But as the others came into sight a little way down the valley, he took me aside again to make sure I was ok and wasn’t going to give the game away by acting unnaturally.

  ‘George, I know this is difficult,’ he began, ‘but you have to try and treat everyone exactly as you would have done before hand, or they may begin to suspect.’

  ‘Who do you think it is Jean, just tell me that,’ I replied, ‘because I can only imagine it is one person.’

  ‘Alright,’ he said, ‘but then we must put the matter behind us until we have had a chance to speak to those who we know cannot be the traitor.

  ‘As far as I am able to see at the moment, it can only be either Luke or Androus, and I do not think it is Androus. It would be madness for it to be Robert or Harrison, as it is down to them that we have undertaken this enterprise. Peter and yourself likewise. I believe if either of you were uncomfortable with what we are attempting to do, then you would simply have told us as much and then gone your own way.

  ‘Equally, Androus has done much work for us, if he truly wished to thwart us and claim these treasures for himself, then he would only need to fabricate the translation upon which we are all so dependant.

  ‘In contrast though, we know Luke has concerns about what we are trying do. It may be that he is honestly just trying to protect us, but for whatever reason he is the person I suspect.’

  It hadn’t even occurred to me that Jean might have considered me along with everyone else as a possible suspect, but moving past that additional shock, I had to agree with his assessment of the situation, and told him so. By this time the others had come quite a bit closer, so we left off our camp-making to go and join them.

  I felt like a traitor myself putting on a fake smile to greet my friends, and then despondently telling them the news, all the time watching Luke whenever the opportunity provided itself, to see if there was some sign that he was in fact the traitor. But after a while our old routine took over, and if I seemed a little quieter than usual, then I’m sure everyone put it down to tiredness or our second failed attempt at locating the tablets.

  Jean, in contrast was his usual gregarious self, smiling and joking with everyone, even Luke. Complimenting Harry our cook for the night, and valiantly attempting to find the good side of not finding the tablets.

  CHAPTER 15 – ENTRAPMENT

  With two of us already ‘in the know’ about the traitor, it was a relatively easy task to split off our suspects in order to discuss the situation with the others. Marlow went for his usual evening walk to watch the sunset, conveniently accompanied by Harry with his pipe. Jean effortlessly pounced on the opportunity by distracting the others with the offer of a game of cards. Taking my cue I declined the game, instead deciding to join Marlow and Harry on their walk.

  Neither of them were happy at the news I delivered, but Harry was almost affronted at the idea that Androus could be a suspect, only calming down when I explained that neither myself nor Jean thought it a serious possibility, which left us with Luke.

  We walked for a bit longer than usual that night, in order to give both Harry and Marlow time to adjust, time I was only too aware I had not had myself. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from either of them, they had after all been friends with Luke for far longer than I, but if I was expecting anything it wasn’t compassion.

  We’d stopped a little way further up the valley, where its sloping sides lowered enough to be easily climbed so affording a better view of the setting sun. As we reached our viewpoint, it was Marlow who spoke.

  ‘We shouldn’t have allowed him to join us again,’ he said, unconsciously rubbing the scar on his right forearm, where he’d been gashed by the lion. ‘It was unfair of me to even consider that this journey would be one he could bear to make.’

  ‘No Rob, that’s not being fair on yourself, or on the rest of us,’ cut in Harry. ‘Luke is, or was a good friend. It was only fair we gave him the chance to come along.

  ‘Just as,’ Harry continued, ‘if we’re going to be fair to Luke, then it’s my feeling we must also try to understand why he’s done this. There’s no viciousness in this act, no selfishness, revenge or pettiness. When we started all this, beneath that great overhanging rock with the Shaman, none of us really knew what we were doing. And afterward, as I think about it now, maybe it was just a bit too easy for us to not understand how badly that experience might have affected both Luke and Sylvio.’

  We talked for a while longer, moving through the sorrow and disappointment until they felt able to face the group without raising suspicions, and then we headed back.

  We’d decided to bring Androus and Peter into the fold as soon as possible, and after discreetly letting Jean know the plan, it became simplicity itself to pick an opportunity when they would both have the chance to absorb the information and compose themselves.

  Our small world seemed to take on a strange new perspective for me in those first few hours after discovering our betrayal. As the last vestiges of twilight faded, and a cobalt dark sky filled the gap between the steep gorge walls, I went from feeling almost like a traitor myself, for concealing my true emotions, and putting on a pretence to my friends, to now feeling like one of a pack of circling wolves. All knowing the truth, and all watching our unsuspecting quarry, while Luke became almost the lamb in our midst, seemingly oblivious to the change in our natures and the eyes that now followed him.

  As we rose early the following morning, it was our routine that helped me to put the situation out of my mind for a while. We all climbed up to take a look around the ravaged site and complete the usual sketches and description of the cave, the tablet enclosure and its surroundings, which didn’t take long, and then after quickly packing we were off down the valley to the sea and our boat. It was obviously much easier going on the way
back, without the many diversions we’d taken on the way up, and though we arrived late in the day, we managed to get back before the light completely failed.

  There were no hotels in the village, so we were obliged to split up and lodge in some of the larger houses for the night, which provided another ideal opportunity to make our plans.

  We were obviously still intending to go and search for the next set of tablets in Ephyri, just outside the ancient city of Corinth, but now there was a new game to be played. How would we use Luke for our own advantage, whilst at the same time, appearing to pursue our regular course. Marlow and Harry were lodging with him for the evening so we couldn’t consult them, but Jean as ever, was ahead of the game.

  ‘My friends,’ he began earnestly, ‘the reality that we must face, is that by delaying our departure from Jerusalem, we have given Luke and his accomplices all the time they might want to beat us to our goal here in Crete, as well as to our next destination in Greece.’

  I think we’d all had time enough on our walk down the gorge, to realise that this was a possibility, but it was still demoralising to hear it voiced.

  ‘As such we must now use our time well,’ continued Jean, ‘We must still make the show of travelling to Corinth to seek out nearby Ephyri. But while we do this, I suggest we must also be researching and preparing for where we will go afterward. All the while making the pretence of thinking of nothing beyond our current target.

  ‘Once we have figured out where we go after Ephyri, then I fear Androushan we must ask you to engage in a little manipulation of the facts, in order to deceive both Luke and his accomplices.’

  ‘Yes, I understand you Jean,’ was Androus’ simple reply.

  ‘Forgive me my friend, but this may be more complex than you realise.’ Continued Jean apologetically. ‘However you alter or change the information that we give to Luke, it must not only deceive him and his accomplices, but also be convincing, as an ‘honest’ mistake, when Luke finally discovers the truth.’

  ‘I have already provided a translation of much of the material we have to work upon,’ replied Andous doubtfully. ‘Any kind of significant change or alteration, will look very suspicious.’

  ‘And if we do change something, how can we possibly make it seem like a mistake,’ interjected Peter, ‘without Luke picking up on it as soon as we deviate from the route.’

  ‘You are both quite correct,’ responded Jean. ‘That is why, I suggest we make an ‘honest mistake’ in our interpretation of the evidence, perhaps blaming the poor copying and transcription by Harrison, while he was assisting with the copying of the scroll.

  ‘In this way,’ Jean explained, with that entertained gleam returning to his eyes again, ‘we can give Luke’s accomplices time to commence their journey, to get ahead of us, which they will surely wish to do. And then at the point where the two routes diverge we can ‘suddenly discover’ our mistake, and head off in the corrected direction.’

  ‘Of course!’ I said, suddenly realising where Jean was going with his plan. ‘If we just change one of the distances or directions, then as long as Luke doesn’t get a chance to contact his accomplices, they will already be committed to their route, travelling with all haste in order to get there before us, and unable to double back to the real destination in time.’

  ‘Exactly George,’ Jean replied. ‘Such a mistake should give us enough time to find the next set of tablets. Or, in the event our search should go badly again, Luke will still be none the wiser.’

  It had been a tiring day, and time was now definitely getting on, so after clearing up a few of the minor points, and talking through the plan for the following day, it was time to rest.

  The following day arrived clear and bright, with enough of a breeze to make for a good days sailing, so with the minimum of fuss and delay, we collected our things and prepared for the day ahead.

  As we were leaving the house we’d lodged in, I stopped off with Jean to thank our host and say goodbye. Knowing that the gentleman of the house had good English and had been one of those whose pack animals had been left on the other side of the island, I asked if he yet knew when they would be returned to him.

  ‘Yes,’ was the rueful reply, ‘my son will travel with two other men from the village, to meet those who have our animals in a week’s time.’

  Luke wasn’t nearby, so I thought it safe to question the man further in the hope we might find out a little more about this group that we suspected of being Luke’s accomplices.

  ‘Can you tell us who these people were,’ I asked openly, ‘in case we should come across them in our travels?’

  ‘Please do not trouble yourself on my account,’ our host graciously replied, ‘the matter is done with, and should another lady wish to use my animals it shall be on the condition that I accompany them personally.’

  ‘It was a lady who hired your animals?’ Jean interjected, with a tone of mild shock in his voice.

  ‘Yes m’sieur.’ was our hosts simple reply. ‘A very beautiful and important lady, travelling with two of her female friends and several of their servants. She was very sure she did not need help to look after the animals, and now see what has happened.’

  I was a little bit taken aback to hear that the group we’d suspected of being Luke’s accomplices had in fact been lead by three young women, so naturally assumed them to be a group of well-to-do young gentlewomen, perhaps touring the Mediterranean for a holiday.

  But then our host again mentioned how they must have been very important, judging by the level of respect they demanded from their servants, perhaps even royal princesses he mused, in which case they couldn’t be expected to understand the ways of livestock and ordinary folk.

  It was such an incidental detail, but it instantly reminded me of the young lady we’d observed Luke with in the park in Jerusalem, and then again entering the side or back entrance of the church. The young lady that both Jean and myself had assumed to be nothing more than a gentle romantic interest.

  I don’t know why it should have affected me so, but for some reason the idea that she could somehow be involved with Luke’s betrayal sent a chill into my spine. I thought I saw a flicker of recognition in Jean’s face too, but his natural composure was, as always, too good for me to be sure.

  A minute or two later and we’d said our goodbyes to our host, and were heading over to the boat where the others had finished loading and were waiting for us.

  ‘Is there any chance it could be a different woman,’ I asked him bluntly, as we walked.

  ‘No George, there is not.’ Was his simple reply. ‘Now compose yourself and do not attempt to breathe a word of this to anyone else or even me until we get off this boat, and we know Luke is not around.’

  The granite hardness of Jean’s tone was such a contrast with his amiable expression that it would have seemed quite inhuman to anyone else happening to observe him, but to me it was simply my cue to drop the subject and do as he instructed.

  Like a dream within a dream we set sail from Crete and travelled north toward that narrow bridge of land that joined the mainland of Greece with its southern-half known as the Peloponese, and our next two destinations the legendary cities of Athens and Corinth.

  As we started the voyage I was constantly scanning the boat and my friends for any untoward sign that might tip off Luke. But after a few hours, with the golden sunlight and the eternally shimmering aquamarine of the passing ocean, I started to relax into the routine and rhythm of the boat.

  I hadn’t had the opportunity to update my journal for a few days, it being one of the things I’d left behind on our trip up the gorge, but in my slightly dazed state, now seemed like a good time. So after retrieving it from my things, I went forward to find a comfortable spot in the sun to do a bit of writing.

  I’d written no more than a few lines when the thought suddenly occurred to me that I must be careful. Everyone was aware that I kept a journal, and I never made much of an attempt to secure it, both because
it had never contained anything I wouldn’t have been happy to say or recount to my friends, but also because I had trusted them all implicitly. Now of course, the situation had changed. I could no longer trust Luke, and obviously couldn’t just suddenly start hiding or locking my journal away. Which meant I had no option but to exclude any mention of our suspicions or true plans, and instead view the exercise as a form of propaganda.

  The situation got to me for a moment, and I briefly considered just throwing the entire thing overboard. But as I thought about it and as the rashness of the moment passed, I managed to collect my thoughts enough to realise that my journal writing was just as much a part of our routine, which needed preserving for Luke, as anything else we did. So I not only had to resist the temptation to throw anything overboard, but also had to keep up appearances, both outwardly and in the things I wrote about, to ensure Luke didn’t find anything to make him suspicious.

  With the potential propaganda value of my journal firmly fixed in my mind, I settled down again to write and document the past few days. It was all factually correct, with the odd contrived musing upon our ‘lack of luck’ from time to time, and the occasional space here and there, just big enough for me to squeeze in a few details at a later date, when the same constraints might not apply.

  Although we could have headed straight for Corinth via the great canal connecting the Aegean and the Ionian, we’d decided to make a detour to nearby Athens, in the hope that the more comprehensive research resources available there would help us identify where we could go next. We would only be able to drag our feet for so long before making Luke suspicious, but a few days could make all the difference.

  Androus also had a few connections in Athens, which enabled us to get access to the university archives and map rooms. These appeared to be almost as comprehensive as those available in his own library, and with most of the students having only recently returned from their winter break, we all but had the place to ourselves.