She murmured a prayer and pressed the Send command.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cait sat in her room going over the photos transferred from the camera to her computer. The photo taken deep in the shaft showed the letters J. W. carved into the timber with a date, March 11, 1920, the year Kurtz launched his expedition.
She picked up her copy of “The Emerald Sceptre” and began to read. The author, a reporter for the Denver Post named Wayne Valero, opened the book by quoting a letter Prester John had written to the Byzantine emperor of Rome, Manuel, in 1177 in which the Prester bragged about his wealth and power and said he had vanquished the infidels who surrounded his kingdom. Skeptics pointed to parts of the letter that said the kingdom was home to men with horns and giants who had one eye, unicorns and gryphons, places where poison would not work, and a fountain of youth. According to the letter, no one in Prester John’s land could tell a lie.
Valero then went on to describe how one of the many agents Kurtz employed in his worldwide quest, while foraging in a Kabul antiquities shop, came across a fragment of a letter, written in Latin on vellum. The ragged edge suggested that it had been roughly torn from a scroll. Drawn on the back of the vellum were some child-like squiggles. The letter appeared to be from Prester John. This discovery had been the catalyst for Kurtz’s Prester John expedition.
The author had dogged the trail that led Kurtz to Afghanistan. His persistence paid off. He found a journalist’s dream: a reliable source in the widow of an expedition archaeologist who had died at sea on the return trip. She let the reporter see papers her husband had compiled before the expedition.
The archaeologist had submitted the vellum scrap to experts who dated it to the 12th century. The same tests that verified its ancient origin led to another interesting discovery. The squiggles had been drawn in human blood. The archaeologist had copied down the message on a separate sheet of paper:
“I-John the priest, by the might and strength of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, King of earthly kings, and Lord of lords, sends to him that stands in the place of God, namely, the Ruler of Rome, through thy messenger, by the wonted munificence of our bounty, twenty casks of precious stones and gold, and this gift, in my name, so that we may strengthen ourselves mutually in our power turn by turn….”
The mention of a special gift sent Valero back to the origin of the Prester John legend in a letter written by Otto, bishop of Freisingen, who in 1145 met with a Syrian bishop. The Syrian told him about a Christian king and priest known as Presbyter John, whose kingdom lay beyond Persia and Armenia. John belonged to a Christian sect known as Nestorians and had defeated the infidels in a number of battles. He was supposedly descended from the Magi, was rich beyond belief, and used as the emblem of his power and wealth an emerald scepter.
Valero heard an echo of Otto’s report in the Prester’s vellum letter to the Pope: What better gift to show a willingness to share power but the fabled scepter? Or did the scepter symbolize a gift even more valuable than gold and gems: an alliance to fight the Muslim infidels?
The archaeologist’s widow told Valero that one of Kurtz’s historic researchers had found a clue in an old map of caravan routes that had an X labeled Itmud. The archaeologists nicknamed the site “It’s mud” after the expedition visited the place and found a cluster of tall tower-like geological formations like those known as ‘hoo-doos’ in the southwestern United States. The researchers would have dismissed the map as a fake, except that the name Itmud meant pillar.
Intrigued by the coincidence, the researchers dug at the site and found artifacts that indicated Itmud may have been a trading post or a caravan stop. The map showed a dotted line leading across the desert to a valley vaguely shaped like a figure eight.
Cait skimmed through the next part of the book. Kurtz travels to the valley and discovers it full of water. Its shape matches the drawing on the back of the vellum signed by the Prester. He orders in dive equipment. The diver goes into the lake where the diagram indicates there should be a cave opening, but for some reason can’t find it. Kurtz sinks a mine shaft below the odd rock formation. The shaft collapses and traps the diver.
The story ended with the tragic loss of Kurtz’s archaeological crew in the sinking of one of his vessels on the return trip to the States. The rest of the book was pure speculation, with Valero postulating that Kurtz found the treasure, but it was likely lost with his ship.
Cait set the book down and reflected on what she had read, but a knock at the door pulled her thoughts back to the present. It was Amir.
“The family missed you at lunch,” he said. “Especially the little one. They sent me to make sure you are coming to dinner.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been reviewing materials and forgot about the time. Look at this.”
Amir stepped into the guest quarters, settled his long body into a chair and studied the photo on the computer screen. Cait pointed out the date of the expedition and described her theory about the mine being built because the treasure trove was not accessible from the lake.
He rubbed his beard. “Not an implausible theory, but as you discovered, the mine shaft is too dangerous to explore.”
“Even dead ends are informative. Building a mine shaft is neither easy nor cheap. It tells me that Kurtz believed that there was a treasure.”
“Do you think he found it?”
It was Cait’s turn to rub her chin. “I don’t know. But I’m determined to track it down.”
Amir gazed at Cait with amusement in his dark eyes. “It seems that Mr. Kurtz is not the only one obsessed with Prester John.”
“I prefer to think of it as a passion. Do you blame me?”
“Not at all. The Prester is a fascinating historical figure.”
“Agreed, but no one has been able to prove that John even existed. My goal now is to find the rest of the vellum. Then I might be able to backtrack to the Prester’s kingdom. Maybe I can locate his tomb! Even if I don’t, I could be on the trail of the historical and archaeological discovery of the century.”
“I will do all I can to help you, Dr. Cait. Where do you go from here?”
“Back to the beginning. Prester John.”
“We’re talking millions of square miles spread over several countries.”
“This will be a journey in time rather than distance. We know the Pope sent his physician Philip east to deliver a letter to Prester John, so I went into the Vatican data base. I went through every link I could find on Pope Alexander and Master Philip. Let me show you something I turned up in my research.”
She brought a letter with graceful handwriting onto the screen.
“What is it?”
“The Vatican archives had a fragment of a note, written from Philip in Jerusalem, dated 1177 anno domini. It was a bill which asked for papal reimbursement of expenses to Philip’s bank in Rome:
“For the knight Thomas and entourage and the caravan master. I will keep a journal of further expenses and their source as they occur. Magister Phillipis.”
“This proved that Philip had intentions to leave Jerusalem,” Amir observed. “Who is this Thomas?”
“I wish I knew. My immediate challenge is to find Philip’s journal. I need to do more research before I go back into the field. There are sources all over the world. Libraries and archives in Rome, Vienna, Paris, London and the U.S.”
“Then you have made a decision to leave us?”