Pompeii's Ghosts (A James Acton Thriller, #9) (5 page)

“How
many years did it take for you to make the Triarii?”

Valerius
stood, thinking back on his early days under Plinius. “Three, though I had the
advantage of being in Plinius’ favor.”

Avita
stepped back, dropping her dress to the floor revealing her spectacular body.
She bent over, riffling through her clothes and Valerius felt a stirring he
shouldn’t under the circumstances.

“And
just where is our Lord in this, our hour of need?”

Valerius
rose and was about to throw his robes aside and take his wife right there and
then when she suddenly stood straight, holding out some clothes triumphantly.
She looked at him, recognizing the look in his eyes. She glanced down and
cocked an eyebrow. “Put the spear away, darling, now is
not
the time.”

She
quickly dressed as he turned away in sexual frustration, turning instead to the
nearby window. A quick glance outside had any amorous thoughts quickly tamped
out, the only fires now burning those beyond the window.

“I’m
ready. I’ll get the kids,” said Avita as she left the room leaving Valerius
alone with his thoughts.

Plinius,
where are you?

Outside Omhajer, Eritrea
Present Day, Six weeks before the crash

Birhan couldn’t keep his heart from slamming into his ribcage, the
excitement too great. What he had found was staggering, unfathomable in its
magnitude. In fact, it was so life altering, it was terrifying. He was a simple
herder, with no concept of true wealth. In fact, his subsistence living meant
that he barely saw money beyond a few coins, his life one of barter and trade.

But he
wasn’t too much the fool to not know that what he had found was worth killing
for.

After he
had confirmed what he retrieved was but one of many—so many in fact it was more
than he could possibly count or carry in a hundred trips—he had decided to
rebury his find, then bring the herd back in without mentioning it to anyone.
The slab of metal in his pocket, a metal he was positive was gold, weighed
heavily on him, threatening to pull down his pants with each step.

“Birhan!”

He
nearly soiled himself as his good friend Hamid yelled a greeting. Birhan waved,
forcing a smile on his terrified face as Hamid crested a nearby hill with his
share of the herd. Their boss, Yemane, was wealthy—the wealthiest man Birhan
knew—his herd large, needing six men to tend to it on a daily basis. The pay
was fair, but Yemane was ruthless should something go wrong. Lose an animal? It
came out of your share, even if it wasn’t your fault. As far as Yemane was
concerned, any animal that cleared the gates was no longer his. And his
foreman, Sheshy, was the most vicious man Birhan had ever encountered, he
rumored to have killed an American soldier. Birhan had always wondered how the
story could be true since he had never known Sheshy to have left the village
his entire life.

Maybe
we can go to America with the money I get from the gold?

The
thought excited him and he almost forgot to keep his herd separate from that of
Hamid’s. A couple of flicks of the wrist had his herd on the right side of the
road, Hamid’s on the left as they covered the final distance to the farm.

“Good
day?” asked Hamid.

Birhan
hesitated, desperate to tell his friend of several decades what he had found.
After all, why shouldn’t his friends share in his find? There was far too much
gold in the hold of the boat he had discovered for him to ever use.

“Yes,”
he finally replied, and immediately upon hearing his voice he knew it sounded
uncertain.

And
Hamid called him on it.

“You
don’t sound sure. Did something happen?” His jaw dropped, his hand
instinctively tapping his cane, causing a slightly larger gap between their two
herds. “Did you lose a goat?”

Birhan
shook his head. “No, but thanks for trusting me that I wouldn’t try to merge
our herds and claim it was yours that had fallen,” he said, nodding toward
Hamid’s cane.

Hamid
looked confused then looked at the cane, realizing what Birhan was referring
to. He roared in laughter, causing the two herds to rush ahead slightly,
startled. “Sorry, my friend, I’m used to working with Woldu. You know how that
bastard is.”

Birhan
smiled, nodding. If there was one man who couldn’t be trusted, it was Woldu.
He’d sell out his own father if he thought it would save him facing the
consequences of any of his own actions.

He was a
truly despicable human being.

Not like
Hamid, who was just like Birhan. He too was saddled with progeny, three
daughters.
Three!
The mere thought was enough to make up his mind.

“I found
something,” he said, lowering his voice so it wouldn’t carry.

“What?
You found something, did you say?”

“Yes.
But don’t say anything to anyone. I’ll show you later.”

Hamid
shrugged. “Why, is it valuable?”

Birhan
nodded. “Which is why you must say nothing. You’ll understand once I show you.”

Hamid
seemed to be getting excited. He glanced all around them, joining Birhan in his
nervous surveillance of their surroundings. They appeared to be alone, but
Birhan couldn’t risk it. But Hamid seemed unable to control himself. “What is
it? Tell me now!”

“Quiet!”
hissed Birhan, immediately regretting telling his friend.

It’s
this damned khat, it makes the tongue loose!

Hamid
frowned, looking angry. “Why, you don’t trust me?”

“Piss
off, you know that’s not it,” he hissed, now certain he had made a mistake. But
if he couldn’t share with his best friend, who could he? He motioned for Hamid
to come closer, stopping. He reached into his pocket and, looking around to
make certain once again they were alone, pulled the bar halfway out in the
rapidly fading light.

Hamid
gasped, his already wide eyes bulging in shock, his jaw dropping revealing a
mouth that had been devoid of teeth for as long as Birhan had known him.

“Where
did you find it?”

Birhan
slipped the bar back in his pocket and continued after his herd, tapping the
cane to keep them apart as Hamid scrambled to keep up. When he was once again
by Birhan’s side, he replied. “By the river, a couple of miles back. There’s a
buried ship.”

“A ship?
Buried?” Hamid’s eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe what he had just heard.

“You
doubt me?” exclaimed Birhan, immediately regretting his loud outburst. If there
was one thing he couldn’t stand it was being called a liar. His life was so
simple and pathetic, what could he possibly have to lie about? His temper was
something he always ended up regretting, the beatings he had put his poor wife
through on numerous occasions shames he still lived with to this day.

He took
a deep breath and lowered his voice.

“It
looked old. Very old. Probably shipwrecked centuries ago.”

“Oh.
That makes more sense.”

“What do
you mean?”

“Well, I
thought you meant somebody buried a
ship
in the sand. That would be
ridiculous. Ships are huge! A boat maybe, but a ship?” Hamid poked the cane at
his friend playfully. “I thought you were playing a joke on me,” he grinned,
his gums on full display.

Birhan
shook his head, unable to stay mad at his companion of so many years. “I’ll
take you there as soon as we’re finished tending to the herd. But you must
swear not to say anything to anyone.”

Hamid
grinned again. “I promise.” He looked away. “How many of them are there?”

“Huh?”

“Gold
bars. How many?”

“Hundreds.
Thousands. I don’t know, I can barely count my herd!”

Hamid
laughed. “Then there’s more than enough for both of us!”

Birhan
nodded in agreement, suddenly realizing his friend was assuming his intention
was to split his find between the two of them. He felt his blood boil at the
arrogance. The thought had never occurred to him to share the find. Certainly
he would give him some—there was more than enough to take care of the entire
village if he wanted to. But he didn’t. The more he thought about it the more
he realized he just wanted to marry off his daughter to a good husband, then
move to America where he could live in a big city like New York. He had seen a
picture of it once and couldn’t believe his eyes.

It
must be wondrous.

There
were so many people, so many buildings, he had to admit he had asked what it
was when he first saw it. To think that humans could live in such a place was
almost unfathomable.

Where
do your goats graze?

The question
he had felt was perfectly reasonable but had elicited laughter from all who had
gathered to see the picture. He had stormed off, irate, after decking Semere, a
particularly annoying asshole who Birhan knew damned well was wondering the
same thing.

Follower!

As he
stewed in the indignation of the recalled memory they arrived at the farm, the
handover uneventful, Sheshy the enforcer his usual camel shit self, then after
a few casual pleasantries with the other herders, he and Hamid left, the sun
low on the horizon. As he looked at the sky he debated if he should put this
off until tomorrow. He and Hamid could simply take their herds to the same area
then look at the boat in the light of day.

But
what if someone else finds it?

The
thought had his heart racing a little faster and his pace quickening as he
decided they must return now, and carry as much of the gold back to their
houses as they could, just in case.

“Is it
far?” asked Hamid as they plodded forward, their weathered bare feet gently
slapping the dirt path, undeterred by the long shadows hiding countless places
to turn an ankle.

“No,”
replied Birhan, shaking his head as he pointed up and to the right. “It’s just
over that rise.” They covered the distance quickly, almost at a jog, then
scrambled over the rise and back down the bank, the gentle flow of the river
the only sound. Birhan dropped to his knees and began digging at the sand,
quickly finding his buried discovery.

Hamid
gasped, dropping and helping his friend.

“See, I
told you I wasn’t lying!” muttered Birhan.

“I
should never have doubted you, my friend,” replied Hamid as he scooped at the
sand with a furry Birhan couldn’t match. Soon the hole in the hull was revealed
and Birhan reached in, grabbing one of the gold bars inside. He pulled it out
and held it up triumphantly, the shiny metal glinting in the sunlight.

Hamid
gasped, reaching out tentatively, looking to Birhan for permission to touch it.
Birhan nodded his permission, magnanimously handing it to Hamid, as if
bestowing some great privilege.

It made
him feel powerful.

It was a
feeling he had never experienced before, and it was wonderful. In fact, it was
better than wonderful—it was intoxicating. He sucked in a deep breath, filling
his lungs, his shoulders slowly drawing back as he felt himself swell with
pride and ego, his friend’s eyes bulging as he examined the bar of gold worth
more than they could earn in a hundred life times.

“We’re
going to be rich,” whispered Hamid, reaching out and hugging his friend,
thumping his arms on Birhan’s back. “We’ll be able to buy the whole herd!”

“What do
you mean, ‘we’?”

The hug
stopped, Hamid leaning back, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

Birhan
couldn’t believe the gall of his friend. “I never said I was going to share it
with you. I said I was going to
show
it to you. There’s a big
difference.”

Hamid’s
chin dropped, as did his jaw as his mouth opened wide. “But you said there’s
thousands of these,” he said, shaking the bar in his hand. “How could you
possibly not share it?”

The
bewilderment in Hamid’s voice only leant further credence to what Birhan had
suspected for years. Hamid was a complete and absolute idiot. How this naïve
moron could possibly be asking such questions was beyond him.

Birhan
motioned toward the gold bar Hamid was holding. “You can keep that, of course,”
he said, “And you’ll get more, I promise. But I’m not splitting this with you.
I have plans.”

“
You
have—” Hamid sputtered, suddenly stopping the tirade that was about to burst
forth, sucking in a deep breath, then more calmly than he apparently originally
intended said, ‘You have plans.’ What about me? What about my plans? I thought
we were friends? How can you be so selfish? There’s so much here! We could help
the entire village! Imagine how good our lives could be with this!”

Birhan’s
chest tightened as he realized the monumental mistake he had made.
He’s
going to tell everyone!
And if everyone knew, he might lose it all.

And that
was unacceptable.