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Authors: Jennifer Malin

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BOOK: The Five-Day Dig
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She gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you for allowing us to continue the excavation. This site is incomparable. For me, it is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

A smile spread across his face. He nodded to her, then left the room.

Relieved that he’d accepted her thanks, she let out a long sigh. When she glanced at Chaz, though, he looked annoyed. Surely, he didn’t agree with Dunk. Or was it Enza who had his empathy?

As they walked outside, the others were preoccupied, so she pulled Chaz aside to try to gain insight. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head and wouldn’t meet her eye.

“You don’t think the temple is the only worthy trench here?”

“No.” He met her gaze, his mouth wry. “You know, if you’re so concerned about age differences, Rentino is fifteen years older than you.”

Her jaw dropped. He was jealous of her exchange with Domenico?

He promptly climbed in the car with the others, so she didn’t have time to respond, even if she’d known how.

During the ride, she couldn’t think of anything else. His possessiveness seemed to imply he wanted something more from her than a one-night stand. She certainly did, if this thing was going to happen. The prospect terrified her, but she had to acknowledge, after the previous night, that she probably didn’t have an ounce of resistance left in her. Still, she couldn’t just tell him that.

By the time they got to their trench, she had decided to reassure him ... a little. Rummaging through a toolbox for a trowel, she said, “Domenico isn’t my type.”

She could feel him look at her, but she wouldn’t return his gaze.

“Indeed?” He sounded amused. “What
is
your type?”

Brainy young Brits, apparently.
She shot a smirk at him and looked away quickly, afraid to give him more. Grabbing her trowel, she moved into the archway. “Maybe our trench will end up the most important one now. We’d better get moving if we want to explore the interior.”

“Hmm, I do want to explore the interior.” The cheeky tone was back.

She refused to respond or look at him, but she could feel him watching her. Goosebumps rose on her arms. She stooped down and started digging.

After a moment, he joined her. They worked in silence.

While they cleared out the little building, the tight quarters meant they often brushed up against each other. Just touching him or being close enough to feel his body heat was tantalizing. As the morning wore on, she found herself less and less willing to move away.

By mid-morning, they had exposed most of the wall opposite the doorway, revealing a painted seaside scene. Stepping back to take it in, she studied the colonnaded buildings, graceful sailing ships and arched docks decorated with statues on tall pedestals. “What a beautiful scene.”

Excavating further, they learned that the tiled floor dropped away at one end of the room, indicating the presence of a pit of some kind.

“This could be a well for sacred water,” Chaz said, shoveling faster. His efforts paid off when he uncovered a small broken pot, followed shortly by three crusty coins.

Next, she came across a metal container with a handle and lid. Carefully, she picked at the soil around it, then brushed it off to get a better look. “I have another bronze container – kind of like a little kettle.”

He moved next to her, his shoulder grazing hers. “That is a
situla
. Isis was often shown carrying one filled with sacred water from the
Nile
. Situlae were sometimes left as offerings to her, too.”

“Another tally mark for
Isis
. Sorry, Bellona.” She recorded the location then eased it out of the ground and placed it in the finds tray.

“Any structural damage in here?” a male voice with an Italian accent asked from the doorway. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She turned around to see a man dressed in black with slicked-back hair and mirrored aviator sunglasses – the structural engineer, if she wasn’t mistaken.

Chaz glanced around the room. “The building looks remarkably intact to me, but I’m no engineer.”

The man glanced around, not bothering to remove his shades. “
Certo
.”

He nodded to them and left.

Chaz shot her a wry look. “
Certo
, the building is intact, or
certo
, I’m no engineer?”

“Both, maybe.” She laughed. “Now I know what you meant when you said that guy looked dodgy.”

“Normally, I’d reserve judgment, but if he’s the one who braced the downstairs wall in the temple, it makes you wonder.”

“I’ll ask Dunk about it when we see him.”

A little later, Jack ducked his head through the door and looked around. “Hey, you have a fresco in here.”

“We sure do.” She stood up, brushing off her hands. “Things are heating up now that most of the lapilli is cleared.”

“We’ll do an update in here, but it’ll probably have to wait till tomorrow.” He stepped inside and examined the painting more closely. “After lunch, I’m moving everyone over to the lodging. In fact, I’d like you to come check it out now.”

“You’re moving everyone?” The news disappointed her. She’d grown attached to the purgatorium, and frankly, to the relative isolation with Chaz. “Why? It’s safe here. And we’re coming up with some interesting finds.

“Not as interesting as lost texts from antiquity would be.” He grinned. “Will has found a carrying case for scrolls over there. It’s empty, but there could be others.”

She and Chaz looked at each other in surprise. Turning back to Jack, she said, “We’ll be right over.”

“Excellent. With a little luck, we’ll make quick progress, and you can be back here first thing tomorrow.”

Only after he left did it occur to her that changing trenches also meant having to work alongside Farber. He was the last person she wanted to see, but putting off facing him would only make matters worse, anyway. Might as well get it over with.

Chaz tore off a length of bubble wrap and wound it around the pot he’d found. “It’s odd that the case they found was empty. You don’t suppose Giampiero pinched the scrolls from it?”

“I hope not. But maybe the real reason Jack and Dunk want everyone over there is to keep an eye on things.”

They finished packing up and made their way to the lodging. Up until then, she’d avoided her boss’s trench, so she took a good look around as they walked down a dirt ramp into an excavated room. Partly obscured by soil, the walls featured more paintings of landscapes and architectural scenes, some smudged with belts of charring. In one corner, a stairway led down to a lower level. Jack stood by the top with a half-full wheelbarrow of lapilli.

As they entered, the Rentinos climbed the stairs and each dumped a bucket of soil into the wheelbarrow. Domenico grinned at Winnie. “Even I am getting my hands dirty today.”

A voice from below drew their attention back downstairs. “We have something!” Dunk shouted up to them.

“What is it,
Duncan
?” Domenico called down the stairs.

“We’ve broken through to a room that’s clear of lapilli. There’s plenty of space! Come on down. But bring torches. It’s dark.”

The Rentinos dropped their buckets and rushed back down the stairs with Jack at their heels. Winnie and Chaz grabbed flashlights and followed them into a narrow tunnel braced haphazardly with wooden beams. The space got more cramped as they moved downward.

She switched on her flashlight and flitted the beam around on the walls. “Really? We’re still bracing a hallway like this after the collapse of the room under the temple?”

“I’ll order further excavation and reinforcement,” Jack said to her over his shoulder. “Anyone who feels unsafe should turn back now without shame. Hell, if the room they’ve found looks like this,
I’m
turning back.”

“Turn around, Enza,” Domenico told his daughter. “I can’t risk your getting hurt.”

She pouted. “Not before I see the room.”

His expression steeled. “Wait upstairs. When the tunnel has been properly braced, you can come down.”

She scowled at him but retreated, barely squeezing past the rest of them on her way out. Even Winnie felt a little sorry for her, being the only one excluded from the excitement.

The rest of the party funneled through into a room so large that she gasped when she saw it. Painted garlands, hovering angels, cherubs and disembodied theater masks decked the red-and-white walls. In the center stood a marble-top table with ornate legs. Ancient metal fittings – nails, braces, hinges, drawer pulls and locks – lay scattered around the floor. Two open doorways led to additional dark rooms.

Hank focused his camera and spotlight on Dunk and Farber, who both stooped by a crate, pulling out battery-operated lanterns, lighting them and placing them around the room. Father Giampiero stood staring into one of the smaller rooms. Amara scribbled on a clipboard.

Jack ran a hand over the table. “Nice piece of furniture. Masonry supports with a marble top and marble accents.”

Domenico looked down at the fittings by his feet. “Why is all this hardware on the floor? Was this a workshop?”

“That is what’s left of furniture after the wood decomposes,” Jack said. “These fittings were parts of chests, cabinets or shelves. But it appears they held organic matter that decomposed – or items that were cleared out before the eruption.”

Winnie shined her light into one of the other rooms and saw that it was much smaller. On the floor, along with more fittings, lay a knife, a bucket, ceramic bowls, finger cymbals and a sistrum rattle.

Chaz looked in over her shoulder. “Ritual objects. The rattle was used in the worship of goddesses that the Romans adopted from
Egypt
.”

“Ah,” she said. “The score is looking better and better for
Isis
.”

Dunk turned toward the other room, now faintly lit from inside. He directed his beam through the doorway and stepped within. “Jackpot.”

She stretched to see around him and made out a stack of nine cylindrical leather cases in tatters. One lay apart from the others. Father Giampiero and Dunk stood beside them.

Jack peered in, too. “Crikey! A whole stack of
capsae
– scroll cases, that is.”

“Yes, but these are empty, too,” Giampiero said.

Realizing that the priest had been in the room alone for several minutes, she felt a tug of suspicion, but the two millennia’s worth of dust around the
capsae
looked undisturbed, and he couldn’t possibly have removed and hidden dozens of scrolls in so little time.

Jack stepped into the room, and Hank followed with the camera. Chaz squeezed in behind him, while Winnie, Domenico and Amara all crowded in the doorway.

Squatting next to the pile of artifacts, Jack used the tip of a trowel to lift the closest one. The ease he had picking it up made it clear the case was empty. “These cases were used for transporting scrolls. If texts were stored in this building, it appears the ancients moved them out before or during the eruption.”

BOOK: The Five-Day Dig
2.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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