well.” He held up the coin again. “It’s fantastic,” he murmured. “The crumbled walls, these scraps of ancient Berenikê, they tell a human story, but this place was really about what passed through it, incredible riches, the wealth of an empire. To understand what actually went on here, you have to hold this. To hold treasure. That’s what fueled this place, treasure on an unimaginable scale.”
“And the sea trapped one load in its net,” Costas said.
“There are more of these coins?” Hiebermeyer said.
“Thousands of them,” Jack said. “All mint issues. All Imperial gold.”
“It’s the mother lode,” Costas said.
Hiebermeyer relaxed his shoulders, gave a broad smile and put his other hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Congratulations, Jack. You remember what I used to call you, when we were boys? Lucky Jack.” He handed back the coin, picked up the case again then took Costas by the arm, steering him down the dusty slope toward the helicopter. “Now, tell me about these elephants.”
“You’re not going to believe it.”
“Try me.”
T HREE DAYS LATER JACK STOOD OUTSIDE ON THE FLYING bridge of Seaquest II , leaning on the railing and looking out toward the eastern horizon. The sun had risen in a clear sky for the first time since they had left the Red Sea, and Jack enjoyed the warm radiance as it reflected off the water. It had been three days not entirely to his liking. The monsoon had hit them as soon as they rounded Arabia, and they had sailed directly across the open ocean toward the southern tip of India. The only saving grace was the twenty-knot speed with the wind behind them. Jack could barely comprehend how ancient Greek and Egyptian sailors had done it, bucketing and wallowing in the swell, hundreds of miles from land with only the direction of the monsoon for navigation. It would have been a tremendous feat of courage, and sailing out of sight of land would have been their worst nightmare. Especially if they had been seasick. Jack swallowed hard, and tried to forget the last seventy-eight hours. The worst had not happened, but it had been close. He felt dog-tired, but also like the survivor of a near-fatal illness with a new lease on life. And it had also been exhilarating, the hours he had spent rooted to this spot, lashed by wind and spray, his eyes roving continuously, searching for the line of the horizon, in the tumult of the swell and flickering blackness that had seemed without end.
The captain’s face popped out of the bridge door, and a hand holding a steaming mug. “We’re entering the Palk Strait now. We’ve got a local pilot coming to navigate us through and I’m putting the ship on alert. The Sri Lankan navy’s fighting a gun battle with Tamil Tiger boats just off the northern tip, and we’ll be within range.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Jack took the mug gratefully and turned back to the sea. He watched the launch carrying the pilot come alongside, skillfully matching their speed while the pilot was hooked into a chair and winched on board. He could see land now on both sides, the southern tip of India and the northwestern coast of Sri Lanka. The narrows ahead were another obstacle facing ancient sailors, treacherous shallows and reefs that only local craft could ply. But once through, the sailors were near the end of their voyage, at the place where they met traders coming from the east, from Chrysê, the semi-mythical land of gold, from the farthest places known to westerners. Jack looked at his watch. Maurice had promised that this would be the morning to reveal his find before they reached the Roman site of Arikamedu. Maurice and Aysha had been holed up continuously in the ship’s lab belowdecks, piecing together whatever it was that Maurice had brought on board from his excavation in Egypt. Jack was itching to join them. He would go down and see for himself once he had finished his coffee. Especially now that belowdecks was a realistic proposition, not the
“And the sea trapped one load in its net,” Costas said.
“There are more of these coins?” Hiebermeyer said.
“Thousands of them,” Jack said. “All mint issues. All Imperial gold.”
“It’s the mother lode,” Costas said.
Hiebermeyer relaxed his shoulders, gave a broad smile and put his other hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Congratulations, Jack. You remember what I used to call you, when we were boys? Lucky Jack.” He handed back the coin, picked up the case again then took Costas by the arm, steering him down the dusty slope toward the helicopter. “Now, tell me about these elephants.”
“You’re not going to believe it.”
“Try me.”
T HREE DAYS LATER JACK STOOD OUTSIDE ON THE FLYING bridge of Seaquest II , leaning on the railing and looking out toward the eastern horizon. The sun had risen in a clear sky for the first time since they had left the Red Sea, and Jack enjoyed the warm radiance as it reflected off the water. It had been three days not entirely to his liking. The monsoon had hit them as soon as they rounded Arabia, and they had sailed directly across the open ocean toward the southern tip of India. The only saving grace was the twenty-knot speed with the wind behind them. Jack could barely comprehend how ancient Greek and Egyptian sailors had done it, bucketing and wallowing in the swell, hundreds of miles from land with only the direction of the monsoon for navigation. It would have been a tremendous feat of courage, and sailing out of sight of land would have been their worst nightmare. Especially if they had been seasick. Jack swallowed hard, and tried to forget the last seventy-eight hours. The worst had not happened, but it had been close. He felt dog-tired, but also like the survivor of a near-fatal illness with a new lease on life. And it had also been exhilarating, the hours he had spent rooted to this spot, lashed by wind and spray, his eyes roving continuously, searching for the line of the horizon, in the tumult of the swell and flickering blackness that had seemed without end.
The captain’s face popped out of the bridge door, and a hand holding a steaming mug. “We’re entering the Palk Strait now. We’ve got a local pilot coming to navigate us through and I’m putting the ship on alert. The Sri Lankan navy’s fighting a gun battle with Tamil Tiger boats just off the northern tip, and we’ll be within range.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Jack took the mug gratefully and turned back to the sea. He watched the launch carrying the pilot come alongside, skillfully matching their speed while the pilot was hooked into a chair and winched on board. He could see land now on both sides, the southern tip of India and the northwestern coast of Sri Lanka. The narrows ahead were another obstacle facing ancient sailors, treacherous shallows and reefs that only local craft could ply. But once through, the sailors were near the end of their voyage, at the place where they met traders coming from the east, from Chrysê, the semi-mythical land of gold, from the farthest places known to westerners. Jack looked at his watch. Maurice had promised that this would be the morning to reveal his find before they reached the Roman site of Arikamedu. Maurice and Aysha had been holed up continuously in the ship’s lab belowdecks, piecing together whatever it was that Maurice had brought on board from his excavation in Egypt. Jack was itching to join them. He would go down and see for himself once he had finished his coffee. Especially now that belowdecks was a realistic proposition, not the
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