“What did you say to him?” asked Theo.
“I told him an ancient Phoenician joke involving a mule and a monkey. He told me it was very funny, also in Phoenician.”
“Speaking of Phoenicians …,” said Theo, poking Ian with her elbow. “Show the professor the box you found.”
Ian reached into his pack and pulled out the silver box and handed it to the professor, who took it from him gingerly “You found this along with the Star?”
Ian nodded. “It’s identical to the other one, don’t you think?”
The professor squinted in the moonlight. “It certainly seems so,” he agreed.
“If I may propose a theory, sir, I believe that Laodamia arranged for this box to make it to Adrastus, who hid it for us along with the Star. Which also made me wonder about something,” said Ian.
“What’s that, lad?” asked the professor, still eyeing the box.
“What happened to Adrastus after the Carthaginians conquered Lixus?”
The professor looked at Ian thoughtfully. “The legend says that he escaped to his boat near Larache and attempted to return to Greece; however, his boat was thought to have sunk, because he was never heard from again.”
“I wonder if Adrastus really did set sail,” Ian said. “I mean, the portal is close to Larache’s harbor. Maybe the Phoenician general discovered it, and perhaps Laodamia gave Adrastus charge of not one, but two boxes—one to be placed here in the cave in Morocco, the other in a cavern back in Dover.” Ian had been thinking on this theory ever since he’d discovered the writing on the wall of the cave where they’d hidden from the Jichmach.
“That would be an extraordinary coincidence,” said the professor, “but given what we’ve witnessed recently, not out of the realm of possibility.”
“Yes, but you have to agree, sir, that the timing is rather close,” Ian said, pressing his point. “What I mean to say is that you determined that the script from the cavern back in Dover was from around 400 BC, and wasn’t that near the time this general Adrastus was here in Morocco?”
The professor looked at him curiously. “Yes, Ian,” he agreed.
“Well, we found the same Greek scribbling on the wall of the cave we hid in after leaving the Jichmach’s camp,” Ian explained. “And I swear to you, sir, the writing looks to have been made by the same hand.”
The professor eyed him with interest. “Most curious, indeed, my young lad,” he admitted.
“Maybe the scroll inside the box will give us a clue!” said Theo.
The professor’s soot-streaked eyebrows jumped. “There’s another scroll inside?” he asked.
“Yes,” Ian said, motioning to the box. “I opened it up earlier, before we knew Jaaved had hold of the Star, thinking that it might have been hidden inside. Would you like to see it?”
But Perry laid a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “I’d rather we get as far away from here as possible,” he said reasonably. “Let’s save the box and its contents for when we get home.”
“Yes, of course,” said Ian. “Theo and I have collected enough treasure to get all of us to England, anyway, and there’ll be plenty of time to look at the scroll once we’re back in Larache. Jaaved said that he can see us safely to our boat in Lixus and sail us downriver to Larache, where we can figure out how to get home.”
Perry nodded. “Excellent,” he said, but Ian saw that his eyes drifted back to the valley and clouded over with worry. “We were hoping when we first spotted you that we’d see Carl and my brother too. Did you happen to catch sight of them?”
Ian didn’t answer his schoolmaster. Instead, he deferred the question to Jaaved, who shook his head sadly and said, “I went back to the camp to retrieve what I could this morning. They were not among the dead that I saw, but I don’t know what became of them.”
Perry’s mouth formed a thin line and he cleared his throat. Ian didn’t know what to say, and in the silence that followed, it seemed no one else did either. After a few moments, Perry squared his shoulders and said in a voice barely above a whisper, “Very well. Let’s be on our way, then. Theo and Jaaved, you can ride behind the professor. Ian, you’re with me.”
The group made excellent progress and were lucky enough with Jaaved’s help to find a small watering hole for the horses and their canteens. After a short rest they mounted up again and pushed on through the hot sun, sometimes riding, sometimes walking to give the horses a break. By nightfall they could make out the lost city in the distance and Ian felt tears of relief sting his eyes.
Theo and the professor were having a rough go of it, however. Both of them looked weary to the bone and in need of some proper rest, so as the moon rose, Perry finally stopped the group and found them a place off the dirt path to bed down for a short reprieve. “I’ll take the first watch,” he said. “Ian, I’ll wake you in a few hours. Then, Jaaved, it will be your turn until dawn.”
Ian felt Jaaved shaking him far too soon, and as he sat up and looked wearily about, he realized the first rays of sun were already snaking their way across the eastern horizon. He stood and shook out the stiffness, realizing much to his relief that his feet weren’t suffering nearly as much as they had been the last several days.
They made it to Lixus by midmorning and urged their mounts quickly down the hills toward the river. Jaaved, however, was greeted by an unwelcome sight. He jumped from his horse and ran frantically toward a large pile of burned wood next to the charred ruins of Jifaar’s little house.
“Oh, my,” breathed Perry, and he clicked his tongue, sending his mount into a canter that the other horse followed. They pulled to a stop next to Jaaved, and Ian quickly dismounted and hurried to the side of the boy, who had dropped to his knees and was openly weeping in front of the large pile of burned wood.
“What’s happened?” Ian asked. “Jaaved? Tell us what’s wrong!”
But Jaaved simply continued to wail inconsolably and shook his head.
“What is it?” Ian asked, turning to Theo, confused. “Why’s he so upset?”
The professor softly explained, “It’s a funeral pyre, Ian,” pointing to the burned remains of the piled wood.
“Funeral pyre?” Ian repeated. “For whom?”
“For Jifaar,” said the professor quietly.
Ian gasped and Theo began to cry as well. And everyone fell silent as Jaaved wept.
When his sobs finally subsided into gurgly hiccups, Ian put his arm around his friend and said, “Why don’t you come back to England with us, Jaaved? Theo and I don’t have much in the way of family either, and the keep where we live is a better spot for you than under the thatch of some fat sailor in Larache.”
Jaaved gulped and looked at Ian, his soft brown eyes still moist with tears. “Thank you,” he said, choking. “I’d like that.”
Perry cleared his throat. “Yes, Jaaved, of course you’re welcome to join us, but I’m afraid the way home won’t be easy.” Ian wondered at first what Perry was talking about, but then he saw that his schoolmaster was pointing toward the dock. “Our boat is gone,” he said gravely.
Ian’s heart sank. What more could go wrong?
“How are we going to get home if we don’t have a boat?” Theo moaned. “And for that matter, aren’t we on the wrong side of the river? How are we going to get our horses across that?”
Ian’s spirits sagged even lower as he looked across the eight-hundred-meter expanse of the Loukkos River.
“There is another way,” said Jaaved with a sniffle. “We can go up the river and take the bridge my people built. It will put us near the pass of Avanclair.” He pointed to the southeast. “It’s steep, but the horses can make it and we can still be in Larache the day after tomorrow.”
“Why didn’t we come that way before?” asked Ian.
“By boat is better,” said Jaaved. “Easier. You’ll see.”
And Ian did. They reached the bridge and then the pass about an hour later and began to hike up the slope of the pass on foot—the grade was too ste
ep to ride the horses.
The trek was long and difficult, and later that evening as the group made camp and Jaaved passed out the last of their rations of dried meat, everyone ate in gloomy silence, knowing that this would be their last meal for at least the next two days.
They camped that night under an overhang of rocks. An uneasy feeling had crept up Ian’s backbone shortly before they’d stopped for the night. He didn’t know if it was his physical discomfort or if it was something in the atmosphere, but one look at the faces around him told him that every one of his companions felt the same. Even the horses stomped their feet.
Dawn broke the next morning, and Ian, who had been awake well before, stood and stretched with a groan. His legs and back ached terribly and he could only imagine what the professor must be feeling as he helped him up.
The day passed with very little conversation, the foul mood permeating their little group like a bad cold. But by nightfall they came to a crest and Jaaved announced, “From this way forward it is all downhill. It will be easier but still difficult. We should rest until daylight to be sure of our footing.”
There was no shelter for them that night and they huddled together in the cold, sharing the three blankets they had. Again, Perry took the first watch and Ian took the second. Toward the end of Ian’s watch, when his eyelids were beginning to droop and his shoulders had slumped, he heard something in the distance that snapped him into wakefulness.
Theo sat up from where she was lying and looked at him. “What was that?” she gasped.
Ian stood and eyed the pass behind them. “I don’t know,” he whispered.
“Was it the beast?” she asked him anxiously.
“No,” he said to her, but the standing hair on his arms told him differently. “Go back to sleep, Theo. There’s only a few hours till dawn, and I’ll make sure you’re safe until then.”
Theo settled back down but Ian knew she lay awake like he did for the rest of the night.
At first light the exhausted group was up and moving again, but at least their path was downhill now. The professor suffered greatly, his sore knees giving out almost constantly Perry finally had no choice but to put him on the white stallion and hope for the best. The steed did a remarkable job keeping its footing with the extra weight on its back.
As the sun began to drop into the west, they caught their first glimpse of the sea. “There!” Perry said excitedly, pointing to the north. “The ocean! We’re close now, my friends!”
The ground had leveled off significantly and the six of them were once again on horseback. They had to stop several times, however, as their horses were nearly as weary as they were, and because there hadn’t been anything for them to eat along the pass, the hungry steeds gobbled up the grass that seemed to be growing more lush the closer they got to Larache. “I wish I could eat grass,” said Ian, looking at the horses feasting. For emphasis his stomach gave a loud growl.
“We’ll get something to eat the moment we reach the city,” Perry promised. “And then we’ll work on booking our passage to Spain.”
“But the boat won’t be leaving for another six days,” said Theo, and Ian realized with surprise they’d only been gone eight days. It had felt much longer.
“Not to worry,” said Perry confidently. “I have a suspicion that in Larache, if you flash enough gold bullion about, you can charter a private craft up the coast and across the Strait of Gibraltar.”
Jaaved nodded. “That is correct,” he said. “And I know of a wealthy shipowner at the docks who could take us safely to Spain in his private yacht. But his price is quite steep.”
Ian’s spirits rose. He longed for the comforts of home, and if he couldn’t get to England right away, Spain was at least Europe and a good place to start.
“We’d best be off,” said the professor. “It’ll be nightfall soon, and I would very much like to sleep in a real bed this evening.”
When the moon was just beginning to rise, the utterly exhausted band found themselves on the main road leading to Larache. They stopped at the first inn they came to and the professor went inside to see about food and lodging. He’d told Ian on the road before they’d reached the city that he intended to keep their treasure a secret and hoped to sell their horses for a nice bit of cash.
While Ian, Jaaved, Perry, and Theo waited outside the inn, Ian rubbed the muzzle on the great white stallion and thanked him for being such a good horse. The professor soon reemerged with the innkeeper, who inspected the steeds, scowling at their condition and shaking his head as if he were unhappy. Ian could sense that it was all for show; he knew that the horses were fine animals and worth a great deal to the likes of the innkeeper, who could probably sell them for a lot more than he would offer the professor.
Finally, the professor and the Moroccan reached an agreement. Money was exchanged for the horses; then the professor came back to the group and announced proudly, “I’ve managed to get a good price for them, if I do say so myself. The innkeeper is preparing two rooms for us and we’re welcome to have some supper in the dining hall while he gets them ready.”
The professor led the way back inside and Ian felt his legs wobble with effort. He was dizzy in anticipation of a substantial meal and could hardly believe that one was so close at hand.
They took a seat at a long table in one corner of the dining hall and immediately a woman in a set of robes and a veil came out and began serving them from a large platter of fruit, vegetables, and lamb. Ian filled his plate, trying hard to resist the urge to shove all of it into his mouth at once.
Instead, he forced himself to take small bites and savor the flavor. At one point, he realized that Theo was giggling, and when he turned to look at her, she said, “You’re moaning!”
Ian blushed as he swallowed the bite of lamb he’d been eating. “It’s delicious,” he said; and he caught his schoolmaster smiling good-naturedly at him. As Ian was exchanging a smile, he happened to catch sight of someone across the room openly staring at them. He wasn’t too concerned about it—after all, they must look a bit unsightly after their long ordeal—but the man then waved at them, as if he wanted them to come over.
Ian turned to the professor. “Sir, that man is trying to get our attention.”
The professor turned and nodded politely at the stranger but did not attempt to talk to him. “He’s probably just curious about the likes of us, Ian,” he said, turning back to the table. “Come on now, eat your supper.”
But the stranger persisted. “You there,” the man called to them in English, and Ian caught that he seemed to be pointing at Perry. “A word with you!”
Ian froze, unsure about the accusatory tone in the man’s voice. Around the table he noticed everyone else had stopped eating too. The professor sighed heavily and whispered, “I’ll take care of this, Perry. Sit tight with the children.”
“You!” the man said again, and this time it was clear he was talking to Perry. “You are so rude that you will not acknowledge me?”
Perry smiled and gave the man a little bow of his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But we are very tired and just want to eat our dinner.”
“Did you find your way to the shore?” the man demanded, and got up from his table to walk over to them.
“Excuse me?” Perry said.
“This morning, when you asked me for directions to the shore. Do you not remember me?”
Perry squinted at the man. “I never asked you for …” His voice trailed off. With a gasp, Perry jumped up from the table and hurried around to the stranger. Gripping his linen tunic, he said, “A man who looked like me asked you for directions this morning?”
“Yes!” said the man, obviously startled by Perry’s reaction. “It was you, was it not?”
“Was he alone?” Perry asked with wide eyes.
“No,” said the man, scratching his head in confusion. “You were with a young boy. I think it was him.” He pointed to Ian.
Ian’s mind finally made the excitin
g connection. “He’s talking about Thatcher and Carl! They’re alive!”
Perry let go of the man’s tunic and swept a hand through his sooty hair. “If you please, sir, you seem to be talking about my brother, and I’m afraid we’ve become separated. Can you tell me where you saw this man and the young boy?”
The man squinted at him again, as if he were trying to accept that he’d been talking to someone else earlier in the day. “I spoke to this man who looked very much like you at the fountains. He and the young boy were drinking from them like common animals.”
Perry gave him a shaky smile. “They would have been very thirsty,” he said.
“Yes, well, I told them that it was very improper and that if they wanted to drink, they should find a well.”
“A well?”
The professor cut in. “It is the equivalent here, Perry, of a public drinking fountain. Please continue, sir, with your story.”
“Well, they didn’t know where the nearest well was, so I led them to one and then they asked me if I could direct them to the shore on the west side of the city. They said that they’d been lost wandering the streets, and seemed to be going in circles.”
“But they were all right, overall?” Perry asked anxiously. “They were unhurt?”
“Yes,” said the man. “Except that they both looked very hungry and were obviously thirsty, they were fine. The boy seemed a bit dizzy, though.”
“Dizzy?”
“Yes. He was so thin, you know, and I suspected he was very hungry, so I bought the boy and the man a wedge of cheese and some bread. They seemed very grateful.”
“As are we,” said the professor, and Ian saw him discreetly hand the man several bills for his trouble. “Thank you for caring for our friends.”
The man smiled, and with a small bow, he took the money and his leave of them. “We’ve got to find them,” said Perry, turning to the group.
“They must be headed back to the cave,” said Ian. “I’ll bet they’re hoping we’ll head there if we’re still alive as well.”