“I will see what I can do.” Chizkov was silent for a moment as one of the soldiers returned carrying a coil of rope. “What do you suppose they found?”
Dmitry looked at the dead men again. “Tell me, do you believe in omens?”
“You mean like the gypsies talk about when they wish to entertain a crowd?”
“Yes, I mean that. And when the gypsies talk of such things to frighten listeners. I think that is what I mean in this instance.”
Chizkov shrugged. “Sometimes. Sometimes I listen and I think maybe there is some truth in what they say about cursed things.”
“So do I.” Dmitry gazed at the passageway. “I do not know what our two professors have found in that place, but I think it is one of those things. Having the opium traffickers find them here tonight was an ill omen. I would not want anything to do with what they have found in that place.”
***
Lourds shined the recovered flashlight around the ground where he and Boris had landed after their surprise fall. His left side and arm still throbbed from the impact, but he hardly noticed the pain. He reached down, picked his hat off the ground, beat it against his leg for a moment, then clapped it onto his head.
The flashlight beam played over several skeletons laid out around them. For one insanely creepy moment, no doubt summoned by the potboilers Lourds loved to read when he wasn’t translating documents, he imagined that at any moment the skeletons would jump up from their impromptu resting spots and come at them.
“Thomas, give me a hand.” Boris beckoned for him and Lourds went. “Help me to my feet.”
“Are you certain?”
Boris stared at him. “Are you mad? I took a tremendous fall, I was nearly harpooned by a deadly spear, I braved gunfire–”
“I don’t think either of us braved anything.”
Boris frowned. “You know what I mean.” He nodded at the skeletons. “I want to see what we have uncovered.”
Lourds pulled Boris to his feet and took as much of his friend’s weight as he could. Together, like very weak three-legged race contenders, they limped around the huge cave.
“Look at how the bodies are laid out.” Boris pointed with his free hand. “In a large circle.”
The geometric pattern was hard to make out due to the way the earth had reclaimed many of the skeletons, but the berms of bones defined the circle.
“I bet you a bottle of good vodka that the skeletons on the outside of these will be those of males.” Boris smiled.
Lourds shook his head. “No bet.”
“You know who buried people in circles like this, don’t you?”
“The Zoroastrians.”
“Exactly, and it was the Zoroastrian religion that so defined Persia as it was back in the day of Alexander the Great.” Boris waved at the skeletons. “Do you know how much history we are talking about here?”
“Potentially back to the sixth or seventh century BCE, but I doubt it goes back that far. More likely this dates later than that.”
“Why do you say that?”
Lourds flashed his light onto the ground and picked up a heavily pitted knife. He examined the item briefly, then handed it to Boris, who accepted the blade gratefully. “Greek, don’t you think?”
The knife was nearly ten inches long, single-edged, and had probably been an example of craftsmanship back during its day. The ivory hilt had designs worked into it that showed a beautiful woman archer, a full moon, a cypress tree, and a stag in mid-leap.
Boris traced his fingers over the hilt. “Surely it is Greek. This has to be Artemis, goddess of the wildlands and mistress of animals. See? The stag and the cypress tree are symbols that represent her.”
“I do see. It appears you have found quite the treasure trove. You’ll be buried in research work cataloguing the things that you find here.”
“Only if there’s more of this.” Boris grimaced as he moved his injured leg, but his mood remained ebullient. “Come. We should look more while we are able.”
“While you are able, the two of you should fall to your knees and give thanks that you didn’t get impaled by that spear. I thought you were both dead.”
Drawn by the woman’s voice, Lourds gazed up at Layla Teneen framed in the opening some twenty feet or so above them. “Good evening, Director Teneen.”
“More like good morning. You do realize you’ve probably thrown off everyone’s workday for tomorrow with all the gunfire and excitement.”