Carver's Quest (52 page)

The party had wasted no time before setting up their camp. The headman of the village, with whom Adam had been acquainted on his previous visit, had come to inspect the excavation the day they
had begun digging, surrounded by a band of villainous-looking supporters. At first, they had shouted and raged at the travellers but they had regarded the
firman
Fields bore with an almost
religious awe. Only the headman had proved literate but he had read the letter aloud to his comrades and all had been impressed. The document had been returned to the professor with much bowing of
the head and the deputation had soon departed. From that first day, they had been little troubled by the villagers. Occasionally, small grubby boys had appeared on the crest of the hill overlooking
the mound in which Fields had chosen to dig. They would stand and stare until their presence was noted. Then they would turn tail and disappear. Now the presence of the foreigners in the vicinity
seemed scarcely to be acknowledged.

All the digging the foreigners had undertaken, however, had as yet unearthed little of interest. On the seventh morning, all of the party had stripped to their shirtsleeves and laboured in the
earth with spade and pick. They had been standing in one of the deep trenches they had dug on the sloping bank of the largest tumulus for miles around. This, Fields had announced, was
undoubtedly
the one that Euphorion had singled out in his ancient text. Dig deep enough, he had said, and they would inevitably strike the vast stone slabs which made up the vaults of the
Macedonian tombs. Inside these, indescribable treasures would lie. So far, they had come across little of any value at all. The digging had become a routine, a monotonous toil in the heat that all
of them had grown to dislike.

This morning, however, the routine had been broken by the arrival of three visitors. They had not approached the trench but had stood close to where the travellers had pitched camp and shouted.
They had sounded angry. Rallis, who had just climbed out of the diggings to fetch water, had been the only one who could see them.

‘What is all the noise, Rallis?’ Adam had asked, looking up from the earthwork. ‘Whose voices can we hear?’

‘It appears to be men from the village. The headman, I think.’

‘What the devil do they want?’

‘I do not know. They are waving their arms,’ the lawyer had reported. ‘They wave them towards the north.’

‘Go talk to them, Rallis,’ Fields had said. ‘Point out to them that they cannot come here whenever they choose to do so. Tell them that our work is too important to be
disturbed. Speak to them again of the
firman
, if necessary.’

The Athenian had looked down at Fields as if he was minded to disobey his instructions. Then he had turned and begun to walk back towards the camp. The others, scrambling out of the trench, had
watched him as he neared the villagers. As he had come closer, the headman and his companions had increased the volume of their cries and the energy of their gestures. Rallis had made soothing
movements with his hands as he approached. The men from the village had however refused to be soothed and an animated conversation ensued. After several minutes had passed, the lawyer had begun to
make his way back to the group now standing awkwardly by the trench.

‘What is it?’ Adam had called when Rallis was still twenty yards from them.

‘They have news that disturbs them,’ the lawyer had replied, quickening his pace to join his fellow diggers. ‘There is another party of strangers riding towards their village.
From the north.’

‘Are they so unused to outsiders that they panic at the very thought of more arriving?’ Fields had asked, his voice thick with contempt for the Greek villagers. ‘Perhaps they
believe that the visitors are tax collectors come to squeeze more from them.’

‘No, that is not what they fear, Professor.’

‘I find it difficult to care greatly
what
they fear.’ Fields had shrugged and made as if to turn back to the diggings. ‘And I cannot believe that it is any of our
concern. You have told them to depart and leave us in peace, I presume.’

‘They will not do so. The riders, they say, are like you and Adam. They are Franks. They are your friends, they think.’

Fields sighed in exasperation.

‘Do they believe that every European in the land is our friend? Who are these riders?’

‘I do not know. But the headman has had word from his uncle who lives in a village further to the north. The party rested there last night. One of the Franks calls himself
Garland.’

‘Garland!’ Adam was astonished. ‘What on earth is Garland doing out here in the wilds?’

‘That is not all, Adam. The headman says that one of the riders is a woman.’

‘Emily!’

‘Nonsense!’ Fields had said sharply. ‘That young woman will be safely home with her mother in Salonika. I cannot understand why Garland, if it is he, should be here. But,
assuming that he is, he must be travelling with some doxy he picked up in Athens. He has a reputation, I believe.’

‘We must make our way to meet them.’

‘That is what the headman wishes,’ Rallis had said. ‘He will allow us the use of the only horses in the village. He wants us to confront the visitors. And tell them to turn
back.’

‘I will set out immediately,’ Adam had said.

‘Not you, Adam. The headman is of the opinion that only the old man, as he calls the professor, will have the authority to persuade Mr Garland to return to Salonika. Ever since he saw the
writing from the minister in Constantinople, the headman has been of the opinion that the professor is a man of power and reputation.’

‘One of that idle scoundrel’s few opinions of any worth,’ Fields had said complacently. ‘But I cannot drop what I am doing here on a mere whim of his. Someone else must
go to meet Garland and his party.’

‘I tell you, Rallis,’ Adam had declared, ‘I shall set off northwards. Perhaps it
is
Emily.’

Adam had felt his heart leap at the prospect of seeing the young woman again. He had begun to make his way towards the camp where the three men from the village had still been standing. As he
had moved past Rallis, the Greek lawyer had held out an arm to halt him.

‘The villagers will not allow you to go, Adam, I can assure you. I have already spoken to them about it. They have two horses only. One is for the professor. On that point they are
adamant.’

‘I will take the other.’ Adam had made as if to brush aside the Greek’s arm but Rallis had still held him.

‘No, I must go with the professor. That is what they wish. They know that I can understand both English and the Greek spoken here. That I will be able to assist Fields in conveying their
message.’

‘Garland will not listen to either of you,’ Adam had said, wresting his arm from the lawyer’s grasp. ‘If he wishes to visit us here, he will do so.’

Rallis had shrugged. ‘I suspect that you are right, Adam, but I think that we must do as the village headman asks. We must do all we can to remain on terms with him.’

Adam had looked towards the villagers and then back towards the trench. He had thought of continuing the argument. He had wanted very much to ride out of the camp, to see if it was, in truth,
Emily who approached from the north. But he had known that Rallis was correct. They depended on the goodwill of the men of Koutles. He could not force the headman to provide him with a horse. He
must contain his impatience and stay by the diggings.

‘But if you meet Garland and he insists on coming back with you?’ he had asked eventually.

The Greek had shrugged again. ‘That is a bridge to cross only when we must.’

Rallis had then turned to his servant and spoken a few words. The giant Greek had nodded and strode towards the headman and his two companions. Rallis had turned back to the others.

‘Come, Professor,’ he had said. ‘Andros will accompany us. He can move as fast on foot as a trotting horse.’

Fields had been staring unblinkingly into the middle distance during the debate between Adam and Rallis. Like a man emerging from a trance at the snap of a hypnotist’s fingers, he had
jolted into life.

‘It is confoundedly inconvenient,’ he had snapped, ‘but I can see no viable course of action save to do what this wretched head man demands.’

He had begun to follow Andros. After he had gone a dozen yards, he had turned and called back to the others.

‘I will speak to this man Garland. I will persuade him to leave us in peace. We cannot be disturbed by anyone at so crucial a moment in our digging.’

Adam had watched as the professor had made his way to join the Greek villagers. There had been a good deal of shouting and gesticulating as he did so. The young man had looked at Rallis.

‘Well,’ he had said, ‘this is an unexpected turn of events. I do not think anyone, least of all the professor, will prevent Mr Garland joining us here if he decides to do so.
He is a determined man.’

‘Perhaps his arrival will benefit us, Adam.’

‘You mean that Garland’s presence will stand in the way of the professor’s plans for any gold we might find?’

The Greek had nodded.

‘Perhaps Garland is after the gold himself,’ Adam had suggested. ‘I cannot see how he could know about Euphorion and the lost manuscript, but it is possible.’

‘These are all imponderables, my friend.’ Rallis had taken off his hat and run his fingers through his thinning hair. ‘But I must go and join the others.’

‘Be on your guard, Rallis.’

‘I will, Adam.’

The lawyer had shaken Adam’s hand. He had turned and made his way towards the camp where Fields, his hand shading his eyes, had been gazing back at them.

Adam and Quint had then climbed down into the trench once more and continued to dig. Adam, perplexed by the turn events had taken, had been able to think of nothing but the riders from the north
and the idea that Emily Maitland might soon arrive at the excavation.

* * * * *

A few minutes after examining the coin showing Heracles and the Nemean lion which Quint had unearthed, he nonetheless threw down his spade.

‘You are right, Quint,’ he said. ‘We shall dig nothing here but our own graves. Into which, felled by heat and exhaustion, we shall soon tumble.’

Adam sat down on the floor of the trench, his back to his servant. There was silence apart from the sounds of the birds flying above them.

‘Did you not hear what I said, Quint?’ Adam took his hat from his head and wiped away the sweat that was trickling down his brow. ‘It is rare enough that I agree with you. I
would have thought you would seize upon such a moment of accord. Cast aside the spade and we shall rest a while.’

There was still no word from his servant. Adam turned to see what was keeping him silent. Quint was holding up an object he had found between his thumb and forefinger.

‘I reckon this is gold,’ he said, his voice little more than a whisper.

Adam took it from him and let it rest on the outstretched palm of his right hand. It was tiny, less than half an inch long and a quarter of an inch wide, but it was quite clearly in the form of
a sculptured head. Beneath the soil with which it was coated, he could make out the eyes, the nose and the beard. And Quint was right. Also beneath its covering of dirt, the little head glinted
with the unmistakeable shimmer of gold.

‘What is it?’ Quint asked, still speaking as quietly as a man in church might.

Adam tilted his hand slightly and admired the way the object glittered in the sunlight. He brushed some of the dirt from it.

‘I’m not sure. It was probably part of some ornament. Is it the head of a god perhaps? Neptune?’

‘We planning on telling the others we found it?’

Adam ignored Quint’s remark and, crouching down close to the upturned soil, reached down to pick up another glinting object from the earth. He held it up for Quint to see.

‘A ring,’ he said. ‘A gold ring that once circled the finger of some blueblood Macedonian lady long dead. Who knows what beauty used to own it? It must have fallen from her
hand more than twenty-one hundred years ago.’

The young man stared at the two golden pieces in his hand. His mind drifted back into the Greek history his education had constructed for him. He lost his sense of the present, and the imagined
past was briefly more vivid than anything around him. It was only for a moment and then he returned to reality.

‘I think Fields and Rallis should be told of what we have found. As soon as possible. They should know before they get back here with Garland. Go after them, Quint. Take one of the mules.
See if our friends have met these new visitors. Let them know of our discovery.’

His servant stared at him in disgust, as if he could scarcely believe what was being demanded of him.

‘In this heat? You want me to go riding off into the hills on one of them bleeding mules? When it’s fit to fry eggs in the shade?’

‘Just go, Quint, will you?’

‘They’re on ’orses. ’Ow am I goin’ to catch them when they’re on ’orses?’

‘You will not catch them. I do not expect you to catch them. You will meet them as they return from their rendezvous. I would have thought that it would be a pleasure to be the bearer of
glad tidings. For once in your life, why not do something without first listing all the reasons why you can’t?’

Quint continued to gaze at his master with an air of truculence, but, after a few seconds, he turned and began to climb the short ladder propped against the trench wall. Adam watched him go. For
several minutes the sounds of mumbled grousing drifted down to where he was standing. A mule brayed and Quint cursed. Then there was silence. Adam picked up his spade and began once more to
dig.

A
n hour passed but there was no sign of Adam’s companions returning. He continued to work in the trench. He came upon no more golden objects.
Once again he laid down his spade. Quint had left a jacket at the far end of the trench. Adam spread it out on the compacted mud floor and sat on it. He leaned against the side of the deep ditch
that they had dug. His eyes closed and within a few minutes he had fallen asleep. The sun rose higher and higher in the sky but Adam, still in the shade the trench offered, continued to sleep. He
dreamed of Heracles in the Cremorne Gardens, startling the visitors with his lion skin and his club.