by Tom Hunter
“Samuel and I are going on a cruise,” Shafira revealed. “We could take one of the artifacts with us, weigh it down, and dump it overboard at some random location. No one will ever find it, and with the two relics separated, they’ll never be able to be used to their full potential. St. Augustine’s secret will remain secret forever.”
“Combining business with pleasure, non?” Basile jabbed Samuel with his elbow, earning himself a slug to the shoulder in return. “I’m impressed you’ve finally found a woman willing to put up with your slobby ways.”
“Don’t worry,” Shafira reassured him. “By the time we return from vacation, I’ll have him whipped into shape. He’ll be a reformed character once I’ve finished with him.”
“Hey!” protested Samuel. “You like my slobby ways. They give me character!”
“A character I can do without.” Shafira poked him in the chest. “If you think I’m going to be happy waking up to boxers on the coffee table sitting next to untouched mugs of tea every morning, you can think again, mister. Or should we book separate rooms after all?”
She arched an eyebrow. Samuel at least had the good grace to blush.
“So that’s one of the artifacts dealt with. What about the other?” asked Josh.
“I can’t help feeling that the Knights should have it,” replied Akhenaton. “It’s been our sacred duty for centuries. It seems wrong to entrust the artifacts to others, even with the jump drive out there.”
“Because the Knights did such a good job of protecting them,” Josh pointed out, sarcastically. “Look, I don’t want to disparage your people, but it wasn’t the Knights who stopped Pin. It was us. Without our intervention, the Bruard would be ruling the world right now. The Knights might have cared for them in the past, but we’re in a new era now. It would be foolish to go back to a system that ultimately failed. We need a different plan.”
Sensing that a heated argument was about to break out, Samuel was glad to see Waleed walking towards them.
“Waleed!” he cried out. “Come and help us. Maybe you can settle this argument once and for all.”
Waleed shrugged miserably. “Your petty arguments aren’t my highest priority right now.” As he slumped into the chair that had been left empty for him, Akhenaton leaned closer.
“Are those… tears in your eyes?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I went back to the drain where I left my gold, you know, the place that you all assured me would be perfectly safe.” His last two words dripped with sarcasm. “Well, it turns out that you learned individuals were all wrong. The drain was empty. Someone found my hard won gold and now I’m broke, penniless, and I’ve got to rebuild my life from square one. I don’t even have a nice little job on an archaeological dig to tide me over. That gold was going to set me up for the rest of my life. Now I’m back to living from hustle to hustle.”
“Maybe not.” Akhenaton’s face lit up with the glimmer of an idea. “Samuel, I think you should take the papal cap and sink it in the ocean.”
“Agreed,” nodded Samuel.
“Meanwhile, I’ll deal with the scepter. Permanently.”
“What do you mean?” Josh narrowed his eyes. “I thought we’d agreed that we weren’t going to give it back to the Knights.”
“I wasn’t talking about giving it to the Knights,” Akhenaton told him. “We all deserve a little compensation for everything we’ve done to save the world, but nobody’s going to reward us. Nobody even knows how close they came to living under the Bruard. Why don’t we simply melt the damn thing down? That way it can’t be used for evil. We could even get a jeweler to fashion it into something else. Nobody will ever know where it came from or what it used to be once it’s a gold ring or three. We could sell them to pay for Samuel and Shafira’s cruise, compensate Waleed for his loss…”
“It wouldn’t be enough,” moped Waleed.
“What are you talking about?” cried Akhenaton. “There must be kilos of gold in that thing!”
Waleed sighed. “It’s unlikely that the scepter is actually pure gold. It’s more likely to be plated, or at the very least mixed in with another metal. Either way, its value is diluted. In addition, in order to maintain the scepter’s shape, there’s likely to be a rod running through the middle, either metal or possibly wooden. When you break it down, the actual gold content in that scepter is likely to be very low. We’d be lucky to get more than a couple thousand dollars for it in total, hardly enough to fund a trip round the world for all of us.”
The others all stared at him, their jaws dropping.
“What?” Waleed frowned. “I’ve tried a lot of get rich quick schemes, okay? Let’s just leave it at that.”
“So we can’t become millionaires from the gold, so what?” Akhenaton thought some more. “I think it’s still worth doing. If we melt down the scepter, it will lose its power and even if we don’t get much for it, some money is better than none. Surely you know someone who could do that for us without asking too many questions.”
“Maybe.” Waleed slumped further down into his chair, muttering to himself.
“Why the change of heart, Akhenaton?” asked Samuel. “Your Order was built around protecting the artifacts. Are you really happy to destroy one of them?”
“No,” confessed Akhenaton. “But I think you’re all right. The Order’s time is over. Our mission is complete, and I’ve got nothing left. If we can get a little bit of money for the scepter’s gold, maybe I can start anew.”
Waleed tapped the table. “There is one other possibility,” he said. “One I think will make everyone happy.”
“Go on.” Samuel and the others leaned forward, intrigued at the notion that Waleed, of all people, would be the one to solve their problems.
“While it is true that the gold won’t raise much money, the scepter is encrusted with gems,” the thief pointed out. “Given their age, they won’t be laser marked, which means that they’re untraceable, which in turn means that they’re potentially priceless, especially the large emerald embedded in the top. Emeralds have been steadily increasing in price. That one alone would be enough to keep all of us comfortable for the rest of our days.”
“So we prize it off and take it to a pawn shop?” said Josh.
“No.” Waleed shook his head. “Even a pawn shop won’t give us much. They’re not in the business of paying a fair price, because they know their customers are desperate. However, I have a few contacts who can help us out. I know a metalsmith who’ll melt down the gold, however much is in there. Then I have a few contacts who’ll be more than happy to fence the gems for us. I can play them off against each other to ensure we get the best possible price.”
“And you’ll take your commission for arranging the deal, I suppose?” sniffed Josh.
“No.” Once more, Waleed surprised everyone. “I was thinking that once we have the funds, you four can take your share, while Akhenaton and I go and visit all the remaining cells of his Order to tell them what’s happened so they can move on. Only then will our mission truly be over.”
“Seriously?” Josh looked incredulous.
Suddenly, Akhenaton pulled his friend into a tight embrace. Waleed struggled to break free for a moment before relaxing into the hug.
“Why would you do that?” asked Shafira. “After all that fuss about your gold, why would you give up your share to help Akhenaton and the Knights?”
“Who said I was giving up my share? Akhenaton can pay me back later,” Waleed bluffed, but for once, his poker face deserted him. Everyone could see he was looking for an excuse to stand by his friend in his time of need.
“Good for you,” shrugged Basile. “Me, on the other hand, I think I’m going to go back to my day job. I need a rest from all this adventure.”
“Me too,” nodded Josh. “Although I would suggest that we two act as liaisons for the rest of you so that we can all have the reassurance of knowing the artifacts have been dealt with once and for all. You never know when we mi
ght have to get together to save the world once more.”
“That’s settled then.” Samuel opened up his package, and took out the scepter. The sun twinkled in the large emerald, as the scepter seemed to give its approval to their plan.
He passed it to Waleed, who picked a butter knife up from the table and experimentally poked at the emerald, testing to see how easy it would be to remove it.
“Yes, you’ll do very nicely, I think,” he murmured to himself, before taking off his coat so he could hide the scepter for the time being.
“It’s coffee, not champagne, but I propose a toast.” Samuel picked up his coffee cup. “To St. Augustine’s secret. May it remain hidden forever!”
“To St. Augustine’s secret!” echoed the others, as they knocked their cups together. Samuel went to drink, somehow managing to miss his mouth so his coffee ran down his shirt.
“Samuel!” scolded Shafira, picking up a napkin and dabbing at him in an ineffectual attempt to clean him.
As the sun set in the distance, the six friends enjoyed a much needed respite from the events of the past few weeks. With the saint’s secret soon to be consigned to history, and the Bruard’s top two generals dead, the Bruard threat was at an end.
For now.
Dear Reader,
I'm honored that you read through the whole series.
It's the greatest compliment an author can get.
But, you've only had a taste so far...
A race of humanoids is alive and well, living below Death Valley.
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One man would preserve the place for all time.
The other would unleash hell on the entire southwestern United States.
Who will win?
Buy The Treasures of Death Valley, book 1 of the Secrets of Death Valley series, to fight for the ancients.
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It’s a tomb for six million people…
The catacombs beneath Paris aren't somewhere that Mitchell, a desperate gambler, ever saw himself going...
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