The Collectors Book Two: Full Circle (The Collectors Series 2) by Ron Sewell Page B

materials. The small coastal village remained intact for a thousand years. He racked his brain. King Henry constructed the first known castle on the Roman ruins. Many years elapsed before the Venetians built the famed walled city.
    On passing each kerosene lamp, he turned it off. An important decision needed to be made: fame and glory – or money?
    “Papa!” Alexis shouted when he neared daylight. He clambered up the ladder and puffed with exertion. Tasos lay next to his truck, his hands clasped across his stomach, asleep. A warm wind wafted over the fields from the sea as Alexis woke him.
    Tasos rubbed his eyes. “You’ve ruined my dream. You’re both filthy! Sit, have a drink of water. Apart from dust, what have you found?”
    Yannis gave his father the sealed pot. “Open it, Papa.”
    Tasos unsheathed a knife from his belt and cut the bindings. The circular top fell to the ground. He gasped.  “Where did you get this?”
    Breathless with excitement, Ale xis removed a necklace of rough-hewn gold. A dozen nuggets of different sizes covered its length. He emptied the pot onto the ground. Jewel-encrusted gold pins and other trinkets lay in the dust.
    “Papa. Take them. They’re yours. If anyone asks, tell them you found them in the fields. Don’t you understand? You and Mama can stop working.”
    “Stop? This is stealing,” said a confused Tasos.
    They sat and talked for over an hour. In the end, they agreed to tell no one. For the moment, the entrance needed covering up.
    Yannis waited while his father and Alexis drove back to the house, loaded the truck with sheets of corrugated iron and returned to the site. Between them, they covered the entrance.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    Paphos District, Cyprus. October 2010
     
     
    Bishop Costas Protopapas rolled over in his bed, tossing the cover off his hot body. Without power to supply the air conditioning, the room temperature rose rapidly. The dream he endured every night had woken him. Had anyone found his precious icons? In his dream, he pictured each icon held high in the air while the bidding began. Who would buy religious artefacts? He knew the answer: every week the Cyprus Daily Mail advertised things for sale.
    A bronze sculpture of the Roman Goddess Artemis fetched twenty eight million US dollars at auction. Had the Turks desecrated his church, destroyed, or altered it to a mosque? Many who visited the north told stories of vandalism and wanton destruction.
    He turned on the bedside lamp. “Nitsa,” he shouted. “Bring me a glass of cool water.”
    Nitsa Charalambous never knocked on his bedroom door. She served him in every way. Twenty years ago, as a girl aged thirteen, she arrived from her home in the mountains. Every week she sent her wages to her parents.
    Costas, a member of the black monastic order, could never ask Nitsa to marry him; on broaching the matter she habitually answered, “I give you everything a wife can. All are aware of this fact but choose to close their eyes. I prefer to have my freedom.”
    He took the water and patted the side of the bed.
    “Father, it’s hot and the wrong time.”
    “ Nitsa, I need to talk to you.”
    She sat on the bed. The light from the moon shone through her worn linen shift, outlining the sensual curves of her body. He did not touch her.
    “I have a secret.” For a moment, he hesitated; he needed to talk to someone. His skin dripping with perspiration, he took a sip of water. His throat refreshed, he began again. “When the Turks invaded our land it fell to me, the Deacon of my church, to hide the icons of our holy order. This I did. You are aware that I scour magazines with regard to art and religious paintings. Did you ever wonder why?”
    She shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you liked art.”
    He told her how in fear he hid the icons in the holy chamber under the altar. She listened with