Griffin shrugged. “In a decade or two she may give it up.”
Faye eyed them all closely. Her lips curved into a subtle smile. She obviously concluded that the three had worked out their issues during the course of their adventure.
Griffin proceeded to talk about the tombs at Karfi and Cassie’s role in discovering the key symbols on the boulder.
Erik recounted their narrow escape from Leroy Hunt.
The memory guardian seemed troubled by this part of the tale. “I am so sorry you three were subjected to such an experience.” She sighed. “The Nephilim’s ambition to possess these relics seems limitless. I only wish I knew why.”
“It must be pretty important because they sent one of their leader’s kids on the mission,” Cassie said.
“Really?”
“We never got to see his face, but the cowboy called him Daniel. Kind of a wimp, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt us. Hunt threatened to report him to his father if he didn’t cooperate.”
“One of the diviner’s own sons,” Faye mused. “This relic quest certainly has top priority. They generally don’t allow their young people to mix with the outer world at all. The diviner must want the Bones of the Mother very badly indeed.”
She furrowed her brow, pondering the situation, but didn’t seem prepared to offer a theory. “No doubt an answer will emerge in time,” she mused. Shaking off the problem, she brightened. “What happened next?”
Cassie picked up the narrative with their discovery of the hidden line of code.
“What was the translation?”
“We don’t know,” the pythia replied irritably.
“Griffin wouldn’t tell us,” the security coordinator clarified. “The minute he got done with his secret decoder ring, he said we had to come back here and talk to you about it.”
“I thought it was something that needed to be discussed by the whole group,” the scrivener hedged defensively. “Faye’s input will be instrumental in deciding what to do next.”
“That sounds ominous,” the old woman observed.
“It isn’t really. In fact, it’s quite amusing.” Griffin chuckled.
“Then let us in on the joke!” Cassie could barely suppress the urge to shake him.
“Very well. As I said earlier, the translation of the first three lines of symbols is: ‘You will find the first of five you seek, when the soul of the lady rises with the sun, at the home of the Mountain Mother.’ While we aren’t sure of the meaning of the second line yet, we do know the term Mountain Mother refers to the peak sanctuary of the goddess on Mount Ida.”
“And we know that particular mountain is on Crete,” Cassie added helpfully.
“It would be reasonable for one to reach that conclusion,” Griffin remarked slyly.
“OK, there’s something else you aren’t saying,” the pythia challenged.
“Oh, a great deal, I assure you.” The scrivener was reveling in the suspense he’d created.
“So, spill already!” Erik cried in annoyance.
Faye’s lips twitched in amusement. Cassie suspected she was already five steps ahead of them and had probably guessed the part of the puzzle that Griffin was withholding.
“Why don’t you just give us the translation of the final line of code, dear,” the old woman prompted. “The suspense is killing your colleagues.”
“Yes, I imagine I’ve tortured them enough. But it was just too good—”
“Griffin, I swear to goddess!” Erik threatened.
“Yes, yes, all right,” the scrivener conceded. “The fourth line is: Where flows the River Skamandros.”
“What?” Cassie asked blankly.
“This is the full translation of the code: You will find the first of five you seek, when the soul of the lady rises with the sun, at the home of the Mountain Mother, where flows the River Skamandros.”
“Ah!” Faye nodded appreciatively.
“Glad you two get it,” Cassie said bitterly. “Want to explain it to the mythologically-challenged over in this corner?”
Griffin beamed. “It’s brilliant actually! As you know, there is a Mount Ida on Crete where the Mountain Mother has a shrine.” He paused for effect. “But that isn’t where the relic is.”
Cassie and Erik both sat forward.
Faye continued the explanation. “The River Skamandros isn’t on the island of Crete.” She turned to Erik. “Perhaps you’ll remember it from the Illiad as the Skamander River?”
“But that means it’s in Turkey!” he exclaimed.
“In Turkey! But what about the Mountain Mother business and Mount Ida?” Cassie asked.
“That’s the brilliant bit,” Griffin said. “There are actually two Mount Idas. One is on Crete, the other in Turkey. The Skamander River flows from Mount Ida in Turkey.”
“And the Mountain Mother?” Cassie was still puzzled.
“That name also refers to Cybele, the great goddess of ancient Anatolia—modern day Turkey.”
Erik looked thunderstruck. “Holy sh—”
“Language, dear,” Faye corrected him gently.
He looked at Griffin, then turned to Cassie excitedly. “They won’t have a clue that they’re looking for the relic in the wrong damn country!”
The pythia laughed jubilantly. “They could be at it for months before they figure out their mistake! If they ever figure it out at all!”
“Precisely,” Griffin agreed, still beaming. He shifted his attention to Faye. “I believe there’s a way we can take advantage of this misdirection. It can do far more for us than give us a good head start. That’s why I wanted to wait until we could speak to you before taking any further action.”
“What do you have in mind, dear?”
Griffin sat forward. “When we started on this expedition, we assumed that this would be a race against the Nephilim and that sooner or later they might become aware of the Arkana’s involvement, perhaps with disastrous consequences. But that is no longer the case.”
“Meaning what?” Cassie was lost again.
The scrivener smiled. “They think we’re dead. If we orchestrate this correctly, they need never know about our resurrection.”
“How are we gonna pull that off?” Erik seemed just as bemused as Cassie.
“Time will be on our side,” Griffin explained. “We should get to the first relic long before they realize their mistake.”
“Yeah, but assuming they do realize their mistake, they’ll know somebody took it the minute they get to the right spot and find it’s missing,” objected Erik.
“But it won’t be missing,” the scrivener said quietly.
“Yes, of course,” Faye concurred. “I see where you’re going with this.”
Griffin continued. “We will substitute a forgery for the real relic, whatever it turns out to be. We succeeded in duplicating the granite key, didn’t we? As long as we remain two steps ahead of them, we’ll have time to retrieve the artifact, duplicate it, and place the forgery in its original location. Unless they decide to authenticate the date of the relic, they’ll assume they have the original.”
“But we’ll collect all the originals in our troves, right?” Cassie asked.
“Yes,” Griffin affirmed. “Given the lead we’ll establish with the first relic, there’s no reason why we can’t stay several steps ahead of the Nephilim in retrieving the other four. They’ll never discover the Arkana’s involvement at all. Let the diviner have his forgeries and welcome to them.”
“We will have to plan our strategy carefully.” The old woman frowned in concentration. “Forgeries, substitutions. This may require the full resources of the Arkana if we’re to orchestrate it correctly.” She lapsed into silence.
The other three gazed at her eagerly, waiting for her to say something more. She remained silent for several minutes, lost in thought. Cassie wondered if they should tiptoe quietly out of the garden and come back another day.
/> Just then, Faye roused herself from her reverie. “Yes,” she said decisively. “Yes, I believe this is a workable plan.” She regarded each one of them gravely. “My dears, you are about to play a very dangerous game. You should understand the risks.”
“You don’t need to tell us,” Cassie agreed in a rueful tone. “We already caught a preview of what’s in store.”
“Of course, we can’t go anywhere just yet,” Griffin interjected. “There’s still the small matter of interpreting the second line of code.”
“Any chance our friends will figure it out first?” Erik sounded wary.
“Unlikely,” the scrivener replied. “And even if they did, it wouldn’t change the fact that they would be searching the wrong mountaintop in the wrong country.”
“Before we get cracking on cracking any more codes, I need to get a few hours of beauty sleep. I want to be well rested for the next time I’m in mortal danger,” Cassie observed.
“I need to get in touch with some of my Turkish contacts. This isn’t gonna be a walk in the park,” Erik admitted.
“Judging from your comments, I take it you’re all up to the task?” Faye inquired pointedly.
The trio exchanged glances. A wordless message seemed to fly from one to the next.
In a determined voice, Cassie translated for the group. “Try and stop us.”
Chapter 43 – The Key to the Kingdom
Abraham retreated to his prayer closet for a few moments’ reflection at the end of a very long but gratifying day. So much welcome news. Daniel had discovered the whereabouts of the first relic, and the thieves who coveted the artifacts had been struck down. He could see the workings of Providence in all these things. God surely blessed his efforts.
He walked over to the locked cabinets that lined the wall. His hands mechanically performed a task he had done a thousand times before. It was a task so familiar that he could go through the motions with his eyes closed. He unlocked the middle cabinet and withdrew a leather-bound volume of diviner prophecies. The pages were worn. The prophecies it contained were over a hundred years old, but he knew they referred to him just as surely as if the diviner who gave the prediction was standing in the room and singling him out.
When Metcalf had first ascended to the position of diviner, he followed the traditions of his predecessors. As their founder Jedediah Proctor had ordained, they lived apart from the Fallen and awaited the end of days. But the prophecy revealed this course of action to be a grave error. It was plain that God did not intend the Blessed Nephilim to wait meekly for the end times. He wanted the faithful to bring the end about. His servant Abraham had been charged to cleanse the world of the Fallen abomination and replace it with a godly kingdom of Blessed Nephilim. The first time Metcalf stumbled across the prophecy, it sent chills down his spine. The words could not possibly refer to anyone else but him.
The diviner took a moment to visualize his triumphant entry into the kingdom of heaven: the day when he fulfilled his earthly destiny and was called to the Lord’s side at last. God would look upon him with favor and announce to all the celestial host that Abraham was to be elevated above the rank of the archangels—above the rank of the Messiah himself. All would be commanded to kneel before the diviner and praise his name.
Metcalf drew back from his flight of fancy and sternly reminded himself that there was work yet to be done before his day of glory arrived. The victory on Crete had renewed his conviction that God’s own hand was guiding his efforts. With such divine assistance, Abraham knew that nothing and no one could stand in the way. He would be invincible.
He opened the volume of prophecies to a familiar page and read the words aloud even though he knew them by heart:
“And in the end times shall arise a mighty leader. He shall rule the Blessed Nephilim and set their feet upon the path of righteousness. His name shall be called Abraham for he shall be the father of his people as it was in the beginning. And he shall cleanse the world with pestilence and plague. He shall grind the Fallen to dust beneath his feet. But let him be mindful of the Bones of the Mother. For whosoever shall lay hands on them will claim the Sage Stone and receive the power to change the world forever.”
He kissed the volume reverently and placed it back on the shelf, locking the cabinet afterward. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” he said. “In hoc signo vinces.”
THE MOUNTAIN MOTHER CIPHER
The Mountain Mother Cipher
Book Two of Seven – Arkana Archaeology Mystery Thriller Series
http://www.mythofhistory.com
Copyright © 2011 by N. S. Wikarski
Third Revised Edition 2017
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1 – In the Beginning
Caucasus Mountains – East of the Black Sea Coast – 5600 BCE
They had been fleeing for weeks now. At first, running just to keep a few paces ahead of the flood water. The water that no longer ran fresh but tasted of salt. It had swallowed their dwellings, their crops, and even their livestock and children. Many had perished. Some had been quick enough to escape. There was nowhere left to go but into the mountains, so they stopped running and began to climb.
It was summer when they left the shore. They had now reached the heights where summer never came. Some had wrapped their feet in rags to keep away the frostbite for a little while longer. Others had already died along the trail. That was when they still had meager food supplies. When they were not yet tempted to feed off the dead to keep themselves alive.
Now they were reduced to a band of twenty. Some old, some young. She was the oldest. The only clan mother who had not drowned in the flood or died on the trail. Not yet anyway. They had stopped to rest on the top of a snowy pass while the shaman cast for signs.
The clan mother looked around at the pinched and frozen faces surrounding her. Their troubled expressions prompted her for guidance.
“Let us see what the signs will tell us.” She shuffled over to a woman who was crouching above a pile of flat stones with markings incised on them. The woman wore an amulet bound to her forehead. A polished piece of copper inscribed with a five-pointed star.
“We should go down that way.” The shaman pointed toward a decline that led off to the right.
“And I say we should go up instead!” challenged a burly young man. He pointed toward a gap between two mountain peaks to their left. The clan mother didn’t know his name or who his mother was. He had attached himself to their band during the flight. He possessed a bad temper, and the chill in his eyes whispered to her that he had been born without a soul.
“The signs say we should go down,” the shaman murmured, still intent on her casting.
“And I am sick of listening to you and your signs!” The stranger advanced and stood menacingly above the shaman.
She looked up at him in surprise. “Do you think the Mother of All would lead us into harm’s way?”
He spat behind him. “I think she has already led us into harm’s way. Where was she when the waters rose? What good have your prayers done so far?”
“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” The shaman rose indignantly.
“And you would give her credit for that?” The stranger’s tone was incredulous. “For starvation?”
The shaman’s voice became hard. “She will not fail us.”
“She has already abandoned us!” he shouted back. “She is not to be trusted. She has turned her back on us, and now we should turn our backs on her.”
The clan mother
stood apart, considering the situation in silence.
“We go this way.” The shaman pointed emphatically to the sloping trail on the right.
“Enough talk!” Without warning, the stranger’s obsidian knife slashed across the shaman’s throat.
She gave a single choking gasp before falling backwards, her blood staining the white snow.
A few of the older men drew their knives, but the clan mother stopped them. “No, let him go,” she said sternly.
The stranger backed away from the group, his knife still drawn. He held up the star talisman he had snatched from the shaman’s forehead as she fell. “Look how well the Mother of All protected her priestess. Do you think she will do any better for you or you or you?” He pointed in turn to each of the shocked faces that confronted him. “Anybody else who wants to live can come with me!”
They looked at one other dumbly. Exhaustion and starvation had rendered them slow-witted. After a few moments, a handful of the younger folk straggled toward where the challenger stood. His eyes glittered as he stared at the clan mother. “Hah! You see who they choose to follow now. I will lead them to a new world with new gods who won’t betray us.”
The clan mother watched him and his little band disappear in the gap between the peaks. She and her tribe had no place in the world of which he spoke. Nor would she have wanted one. She glanced down at the shaman lying at her feet, blood still gushing across the snow.
***
It would be many thousand years before men would spin the memory of what had happened on that desolate mountain and weave it into their myths. It could be reduced to two words. Original Sin.
Chapter 2 – Pointed Questions
Stefan Kasprzyk knelt on the edge of a man-made crater in the earth and stared at a small object in his hand. He couldn’t understand what it was doing here. There were times, he thought irritably when he wondered what he, himself, was doing here. Stefan was supervising the excavation of a Kurgan burial mound in Kazakhstan, a country that had the distinction of being one of the most godforsaken places on earth. It was situated right in the middle of the Eurasian steppes. His team might as well be digging on the bright side of the moon. The landscape was barren and treeless as far as the eye could see. A monotonous series of low hills that dipped and rolled off into infinity. No shelter from the cold or the heat. It was summer, and the temperature was nearly one hundred degrees. He pulled his hat brim lower to shield his eyes from the sun. The excavation into the hillside had liberated a quantity of sand which the unremitting wind was blowing directly into his face.
The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set Page 27
