“He doesn’t know that the mine was dug by Solomon’s son?”
“He wouldn’t care. It’s the Ark he’s after.”
“Does the Shame of Kings say that the Ark’s in the mine?”
“Not in so many words. The rumor of the golden chest Levine is following probably came from it, from someone who read it ages ago. The Shame of Kings does talk about a curse that killed the children, a mysterious illness caused by Satan that made it impossible to continue work in the tunnels. To combat it, a powerful talisman was brought to the mine and placed in a special chamber that was dug to the exact specifications of the Ark’s original tabernacle in Jerusalem. It says nothing about it ever being removed.”
“Did it work? Did the talisman prevent the disease?”
Selome asked Ephraim. “The children died in greater numbers, and soon afterward the priests realized that God was punishing them for what they’d done. They sealed the mine and never revealed its location.”
For a moment Mercer allowed himself to speculate. Since the mine they discovered was undoubtedly the same one written about in the Shame of Kings, was it possible that the rest of the story was also true? The mine had lain undisturbed for two thousand years, and if the talisman it mentioned was indeed the Ark of the Covenant, then it could still be there, buried under countless tons of rock, waiting to be discovered. He took his silent musings one step further and considered the consequences if Levine managed to find it and return it to Israel. The Mideast would explode in a religious war that would make the past fifty years of conflict seem like petty squabbling. Selome was right when she said that Levine would use its symbolism to raze the Dome of the Rock, the third most sacred site in Islam. If that happened, Mercer imagined the ensuing war would go nuclear as Muslims from all over the globe used their numerical superiority to overpower the Israelis and recapture the Temple Mount. It was a doomsday scenario that Mercer knew could happen, would happen, if he didn’t stop it.
This was all too much. Just days ago he found he might have discovered King Solomon’s mine, and now Mercer found that he was in a race to find the Ark of the Covenant. If he wasn’t so weak and tired, he would have been terrified. The desert trek had left him in a worse condition than Selome, and his mind was beginning to fade again. He couldn’t absorb any more information. “I bet the Sudanese don’t know anything about this. Their backers are after the diamonds while Harry’s kidnappers, Levine ultimately, want an archaeological artifact lost thousands of years ago.”
“Yes, and they’re both located in the Valley of Dead Children.”
Suddenly the meaning behind the valley’s name became shudderingly obvious.
“We should be thankful we still have time. Judging by the excavating we did before coming to the monastery, it’ll take weeks to reopen the mine.” And then Mercer remembered. “Oh shit! There are about two hundred refugees there right now. The Sudanese who attacked us are probably using them as forced labor as we speak. They might already have it opened!”
Mercer hadn’t told her about the displaced Eritreans he had coming from the camps in Sudan, and her expression registered her shock. “Where’d they come from?”
“When we were with the nomads in Badn getting fuel, I hired one of the headman’s sons to get them and bring them to the valley.” Guilt cracked Mercer’s voice, but beneath it was a grim determination to see them freed.
Selome spoke with Brother Ephraim for a few minutes, then turned back. “He says it’s impossible to reach any town until after the Adobha has subsided. The river is impassable for at least three weeks.”
“We have no choice. We have to cross it.”
Ephraim seemed to understand Mercer’s foul expression and his defiant outburst. Selome performed an almost simultaneous translation. “The river moves with the speed and force of a truck, and it’s littered with debris washed down from the highlands. The flood would destroy any raft we could build. Every year, dozens of people die trying to cross it. Be sensible.”
“I don’t have that luxury. People’s lives depend on us, not only those refugees but also Habte, the two drivers, and my friend Harry White. And if, somehow, the Ark really is in the mine, then maybe the rest of the world, too. I’ll be sensible when the Eritrean military arrives at the mine and arrests anyone holding a gun.”
Selome asked the monk a couple more questions, the priest’s response seeming to calm her anxiety. “He says the talisman spoken of in the Shame of Kings was placed in the deepest part of the mine, buried so deeply that it would take an army of workers many months to find it.” She looked into Mercer’s eyes. “Think about it. The Sundanese don’t know about the Ark. Once they reach the diamonds, they’ll stop exploring the tunnels and begin mining. They’ll never know what’s buried in some deeper chamber. Remember how many Sudanese troops that headman said were waiting on the border?”
“Fifty,” Mercer said, beginning to understand what Selome was saying.
“Levine doesn’t have enough people to attack a force that size. They’ll have to wait until after the rebels leave before starting their own search. We have weeks or even months to warn the authorities.”
“More time to save the world?” Mercer sounded almost flippant, then his mood darkened. “That still leaves two hundred refugees. I’m leaving in the morning.”
“You can’t even stand right now,” she shot back. “Mercer, I’ve been to those refugee camps, and I can tell you that in the short term those people are going to be better off at the mine.”
“How can you say that?” He was surprised she’d put to words that he was just beginning to consider.
“They may be worked as slaves, but they’re going to be fed and provided with clean water. Whoever’s running the operation has to take care of the refugees if he expects them to work.”
In his condition, Mercer knew there was a good chance he wouldn’t make it to civilization. His effort would be a wasted, empty gesture that would help no one. It took just a second to come to the only logical option. “All right, we’ll rest up for a couple of days, but no more. Ask Ephraim if he can provide us with a guide to Ila Babu. Maybe someone there owns a two-way radio.”
“He says that Tedla will guide us. It’s about forty miles, but he says he knows of no one in town who has a radio.”
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”
Ephraim and Selome took him back to his room and saw him to bed. After the monk left, she sat with him, wiping his brow with a wet cloth. There was such tenderness in her motions that Mercer took her hand and kissed each of her fingertips.
“What’s that for?”
“Because I’ve wanted to do it since we met and couldn’t until I trusted you.”
She kissed his lips lightly, but there was a greater passion in her eyes. “So you trust me now?”
“No more secrets.” He tried to smile and then he was asleep.
Selome watched him a few minutes, her hand spread on his chest, fingers splayed as if to possess more of him. She kissed him again. “No more secrets.”
For the next two days Mercer rested and drank water more than he thought possible. His strength returned slowly but steadily. By the end of the afternoon on the second day, he felt strong enough to walk the grounds surrounding the monastery, careful to remain on the inside of the stakes that delineated land that had been cleared of mines. He saw little of Selome; she showed enough respect to the monks and their traditions to keep herself out of sight. He spent some of his waking hours thinking about the inhumanity described in the Shame of Kings, but mostly he considered how to rescue the Eritrean refugees and how to stop Levine from using the Ark. If it had survived the ages, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was buried in the ancient mine. Jesus!