Taken aback, she answered, “It’s alright, I guess.”
“Good,” he seemed relieved. “That’s good.” Approaching her awkwardly, he kissed her on the forehead and patted her shoulder. “Well, good night then.”
She opened her mouth to speak but no words emerged. She was too taken aback.
With a brief nod in her direction, he left.
She stopped brushing her hair and simply stared into the mirror, puzzling over everything. God told her it was her duty to increase his kingdom. The people around her told her she was lucky to be married to the son of the Diviner. They said she should be happy. Everybody had an idea about what she was supposed to do and how she was supposed to feel about it. Everybody except her, that was. Most of the time her insides felt like an overpacked suitcase. Stuffed with all the things other people told her she should want. She wondered what she wanted for herself. The question took her completely by surprise. In all her life she had never asked herself that. It seemed like a selfish thing to want to know. Still, she wondered.
Turning away from the mirror, she walked back toward the bed. She switched off the light and crawled under the strange quilt in the strange bed still thinking about the strange man who was now her husband. What did he want from her? What did she want for herself? Maybe tomorrow she’d ask herself that question again. Maybe tomorrow she’d know the answer.
Chapter 8 – Run From Your Wife
Bright and early on the morning after his nuptials, Daniel knocked warily on his father’s office door.
“Enter!” a magisterial voice commanded from inside.
The visitor took a deep breath before entering the lion’s den, anticipating how awkward this conversation might be if he didn’t handle it just right.
His father glanced up from his paperwork. When he saw who his caller was, he actually smiled. That was a rare occurrence. Daniel wasn’t sure if he didn’t prefer the characteristic scowl after all. The smile reminded him too much of a grinning skull.
“Hello, father.”
“Good day, my boy. Have a seat.” The smile remained. “I trust you slept well last night?”
The question hung in the air like an axe poised to fall. Daniel remembered his awkward encounter with Hannah and his hasty retreat from the very idea of consummating the marriage. He looked down at the carpet. “I, uh, that is, well…um. Yes, I did.” He allowed his father to draw the obvious though incorrect conclusion.
“I am glad to hear it! Please sit down,” he urged.
The younger man sank into the low visitor’s chair in front of the massive desk. It automatically forced him to look upward to carry on a conversation. His father always liked to keep the high ground.
Folding his hands across his papers, the old man asked, “What is it you want to discuss?”
“I’m ready to leave for Crete now.” The words came tumbling out too abruptly.
“What?” The smile finally left his father’s face. That at least was a relief.
“Yes, there have been some new developments.” He wasn’t actually lying. He did believe he might know where to find the relic his father had become obsessed with recovering. The first of five. As for the need for an immediate departure, that was motivated by more personal concerns. He didn’t require another wife making awkward sexual demands upon him. He already had three wives toward whom he felt no inclination. Daniel had performed the necessary, though distasteful, duty of providing each one with a child and had hoped the matter would end there. But that was before his father singled him out for this relic hunt.
Daniel’s entire life up until that time had been spent in pleasant anonymity. One of twenty sons of the Diviner and a middle son at that. Unexceptional but for his unfortunate ability to translate ancient languages. That ability had caused him to give Abraham what he wanted—or at least the hope of obtaining what he wanted. As a consequence Daniel had been elevated to the rank of his father’s favorite, even named as his successor—a role which his brothers envied and which he would gladly have exchanged for obscurity once more. Being the favorite meant his father had taken too keen an interest in his son’s business. Daniel had succeeded in fathering only three children, all of them disappointingly female. This was unacceptable behavior for the son of a Diviner. How ironic that his father would choose to show his favor by giving Daniel a gift for which he had no earthly use—another wife. Better to leave the country and let the dust settle for a while. Perhaps if he could bring back the first relic, his father’s attention might be diverted. He paused as a more appalling thought struck him. Perhaps if he succeeded, his father would show his appreciation by giving him a fifth wife! He brushed the thought aside. He would cope with that calamity when, and if, it ever materialized.
Focusing back on the present moment, he continued his explanation. “I believe I’ve isolated the location of the relic to a specific cave on Mount Ida.”
His father nodded approvingly. “That is excellent news, my son. Excellent! I had already begun arranging your next trip but I didn’t anticipate you would be ready to leave immediately.”
“Since I know you have a pressing need for these artifacts, I thought I should go as quickly as possible.”
The old man seemed puzzled. A rare occurrence. “But surely you want to spend at least a little more time with your new bride, don’t you?”
Daniel didn’t want to arouse suspicion. He skirted the question. “You misunderstand me, sir. While I mean to make immediate preparation, it could take a few days to assemble everything I need for the expedition.”
“Oh yes, quite right.”
Abraham’s concerns seemed alleviated. He once more incorrectly assumed his son would spend some of that time in conjugal visits. Daniel was content not to contradict him.
The old man stood up and walked to the window, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’ll get in contact with Mr. Hunt again and alert him to these new developments.”
Daniel swallowed hard at the sound of the name. Leroy Hunt. A mercenary his father had employed in the early stages of the project. A man who seemed to delight in violence. In his nightmares, Daniel still saw Hunt herding three innocent people into a cave, ready to shoot them at point blank range. He would have done so without remorse if an unexpected rockslide hadn’t buried them alive first. He shuddered at the memory.
“Father, must we involve Mr. Hunt again?” Daniel deliberately kept a detached tone. He didn’t want to sound recalcitrant.
His father turned from the window to regard him with surprise. “Do you have an objection to his participation in this great work?”
Grasping at straws, Daniel said, “But he isn’t one of us. He isn’t a Nephilim.”
Taking his son’s protest seriously, Abraham sighed. “Yes, I know Daniel. It’s unfortunate that for the type of work required, we have no one in the brotherhood who has the necessary skills.”
The necessary skills to commit murder? Daniel remained silent and let his father continue.
“I intend to correct that deficiency very soon.”
The young man wasn’t quite sure what his father meant by that cryptic statement and Abraham didn’t elaborate.
“Mr. Hunt has shown himself to be an invaluable ally even if he is a worldly man and one of the Fallen. He is the strong right arm of the Lord.”
“As you wish, Father,” Daniel murmured. If Leroy Hunt was the price he had to pay for a temporary respite from domestic tension, then so be it. He rose to go but the old man stopped him at the door.
Abraham placed his hand on his son’s shoulder in an awkward gesture of affection. Patting him on the back, he added, “I’m very glad you have entered so wholeheartedly into doing God’s work.”
Daniel nodded but said nothing as he closed the door behind him. Apparently theft and murder were now a part of God’s work. It had been a long time since his heart felt whole. He doubted it ever would be again.
Chapter 9 – A Room With A View Of The Past
Cassi
e woke from a deep, dreamless sleep to hear an insistent tapping on her hotel room door. She shook her head to clear away the cobwebs. What time was it? What day was it? The flight from Chicago to Istanbul had taken almost eleven hours. The minute she got to her hotel room, she’d thrown her duffle bag on the floor and passed out on the bed. She never slept well on airplanes. Twenty winks had apparently turned into sixty.
She stood on tiptoe to check the peep hole in the door. A globular face was staring back at her.
“Oh jeez!” She jumped back, startled. Then she fumbled with the lock.
“Hey, toots.”
“My name’s not…” she trailed off. “Oh never mind. Come on in.”
Erik sauntered past her, hands dug deeply into his jeans pockets. Looking around at the suite assigned to Cassie, he said, “Guess now we know who Maddie’s favorite is.”
“What? You guys don’t have rooms this nice?”
He shrugged. “I can’t speak for Griffin but mine’s a broom closet.” He scratched his head. “I think she’s still ticked at me.”
“Why?” Cassie scurried to the foyer mirror to comb her bed head back into shape.
“We have what you might call a complicated relationship.”
Cassie paused to look in the mirror toward Erik’s reflection. “You mean she doesn’t like you either?” Her tone was teasing.
“Love—hate. Depends on the day.” His eyes swept the sitting room again. “Right now I’d say accent is on the hate. There was an alleged incident where a hotel room in Venice might have gotten set on fire while I was retrieving an artifact. The Arkana was stuck with the bill. In case you didn’t know, Maddie hates writing big checks.”
“Alleged?”
“That’s the way I remember it.” Erik folded his arms across his chest, refusing to offer any further information.
Cassie’s brain still felt fuzzy. She went to the sink in the luxurious marble bathroom and began splashing cold water on her face. “How long have you been here?” she burbled through the water.
Leaning against the door, Erik replied, “Since yesterday. I had to get a few things squared away on another project. As long as I was here, I decided to kill two birds. Thought I’d give you a couple of hours to get some sleep before swinging by.”
Cassie reached for a towel. “What time is it anyway?” She patted her face dry and moved back into the sitting area.
He checked his watch. “Around five p.m. local time.”
“Feels more like four am to me after being out all night.” She rubbed her head. “I think I need an aspirin.” She dove into her duffle bag in search of the tiny green bottle. “When’s Griffin supposed to arrive?”
“Last I heard, he caught the flight after yours. Should be here any time now.”
As if on cue, someone knocked tentatively on the door.
Erik went to answer while Cassie downed two aspirin and a glass of water.
“Hello all,” Griffin chirped brightly. Apparently he was one of those lucky people who could sleep on airplanes. He looked around Cassie’s suite. “I must say Maddie outdid herself in arranging our accommodations this time. Absolutely first rate.”
“You too, huh?” Erik asked glumly.
To Griffin’s puzzled look, Cassie replied, “He’s bent out of shape because he got assigned a broom closet.”
“Ah, I see,” the Scrivener nodded sagely. “She still must be upset about the Boetian vase incident.”
“Guess so,” Erik replied sourly. “I wonder how long it’s gonna take her to forget about it.”
“I fear she’s rather like an elephant in that regard,” Griffin commented.
“Guys, check this out.” Cassie called out eagerly. “There’s a balcony.” She threw open the double glass doors and rushed outside to a picture postcard scene. Her room overlooked the oldest section of the city with its mosques and minarets and beyond them lay the blue ribbon of water that was the Bosporus Straits.
“Wow, this is so cool!” she exclaimed. “I was in a fog during the taxi ride from the airport. When I got here I dropped off to sleep right away so I didn’t get to see the city. It’s amazing!”
The two men came out to join her at the railing.
“Yes, Istanbul does have some interesting features,” Griffin observed. “Over there is Hagia Sophia, the church of Holy Wisdom. Its huge dome is an architectural wonder. At the time it was built in the 6th century, the structure was the largest cathedral in the world and remained so for a thousand years. It was converted to a mosque at which point the minarets surrounding it were added. Now it’s a museum.”
Cassie studied the four slender towers that surrounded the building. “That’s something I’m not used to seeing. I mean I’ve seen cathedrals before, but not with those little towers around them. In fact, they’re all over town.”
Griffin assumed full lecture mode. “Five times a day, the muezzin, a man appointed to lead prayers, will climb the stairs of those minarets and call the Muslim faithful to praise Allah.”
Cassie squinted in the late afternoon sun. “The tops look so sharp from here, it’s almost like they’re trying to poke a hole in the sky.”
Directing her attention elsewhere, Griffin pointed. “Over there is the Blue Mosque, built by a sultan named Ahmet who wished to outdo the splendor of the Hagia Sophia.”
“It doesn’t look blue to me,” Cassie noted.
“That’s because you have to be inside to see the blue tiles that it’s named for,” Erik offered. “That green space around the mosques is where the Hippodrome used to be. It was like the Coliseum in Rome. Chariot races and lots of blood sport for the masses. Not to mention a few riots and massacres.”
“People had an odd idea of fun back then.” The girl shook her head.
Erik continued. “On the other side of the Hagia Sofia is the Topkapi Palace. Sultan central. Now it’s a museum, too. The harem is always a big tourist draw.”
“Hmmm.” Cassie scowled in disapproval. “I’d rather not know about what went on in there.”
“Actually, it’s quite a fascinating place,” Griffin chimed in, “and not for the reasons you would imagine. The harem was a microcosm of Ottoman society with its own bureaucracy and political power struggles. The Sultan’s mother, the Valide Sultan, had a great deal of influence over her son’s decisions in governing the empire. Sultan Padishah Ahmet is even quoted to have said that the world lies at the foot of the mother.”
Erik snorted sarcastically. “Harem life was pretty good for the sultan’s mother but not so good for his brothers.”
“Why not?” Cassie turned from the railing to look at him. “Being related to the head honcho couldn’t be all that bad.”
The two men glanced significantly at one another.
“You tell her,” Griffin instructed Erik.
“Sure.” Erik grinned. “Back in the bad old days, there was cutthroat competition to be the next guy in charge and I mean that literally. Multiple wives meant lots and lots of half-brothers all itching to take the crown, or turban anyway. Succession by murder.”
“That’s awful.” Cassie gasped. “You mean they’d kill their own relatives to become Sultan?”
“Well, what do you expect? Overlord culture rules applied. The world had become a dog eat dog kind of place. After Sultan Mahomet III murdered all his brothers and most of their mothers, he came up with a kinder, gentler way to deal with the problem of his own sons.”
“If you can call it kind,” Griffin muttered.
Cassie shot him a puzzled look but said nothing.
Erik leaned his elbows on the railing and continued. “Instead of killing all the guys who might be future competition for the throne, the reigning sultan decided to shut them up in a part of the harem called ‘The Cage’.”
Cassie blanched. “Was it an actual cage?”
“No, it was more like house arrest but they were always watched by guards and weren’t allowed outside. Of course, they were provided with female company
to pass away the time.”
“Sorry, but I don’t find that idea any less disturbing,” the girl grumbled. “The women couldn’t have been any more happy to be shut up for a lifetime than the men were.”
“Yeah but they got to go outside sometimes,” Erik corrected. “Shopping trips to the bazaar.”
“Swell,” Cassie retorted.
Griffin concluded the story. “In the long run, the practice of caging rivals for the throne wasn’t a success. By the time a prince was allowed to assume power, he was usually incompetent to rule if not outright insane from having spent all his life in confinement. Although one poor sod endured fifty six years in the Cage, others chose a quicker release by committing suicide.”
“I can believe that,” Cassie agreed. “It’s all so creepy.”
“It was a violent time and the men in charge could only retain their power by using violent means.” Griffin sighed. “Even by the standards of overlord culture, this city has had a frightfully bloody past.”
Cassie turned from the railing and flopped down in one of the balcony chairs. Her companions followed suit.
“What made it so frightfully bloody?” she asked.
“This spot was a battleground for nearly all the overlord kingdoms during the past two thousand years,” Griffin explained. “The Bosporus is the only waterway that connects the Black Sea to the Mediterranean. Istanbul itself straddles two continents. Anyone intent on building an empire in this part of the world would eventually have to pass right through it. First it was conquered by the Greeks, then the Persians, then the Romans, then the Crusaders and finally the Ottomans in the 15th century who held it until the country became a republic in the 1920s. As the conquerors changed, so did the name. First it was Byzantium, then Constantinople and finally Istanbul.”
“OK, I’m sorry I asked.” Cassie rubbed her head distractedly. “Too much information. I already had a headache before you guys got here and I think my brain just reached its capacity for processing new data.”
The Mountain Mother Cipher (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 2) Page 4
