The Mahogany Ship (Sam Reilly Book 2) (17 page)

The men rested for an entire week and then commenced
again.

But the rest time hadn’t improved their condition.

If anything, it had made things worse. Prior to the
break, men had continued to work with injuries. Now, those injuries had been
allowed to fester.

Over the course of the next week, more people died and
many more became no longer capable of carrying heavy weights.

Again, my master ordered a meeting with his most trusted
advisers and again, he requested my attendance – although for what purpose, I
did not know. I certainly didn’t have any expertise in the area to offer.

This time, he did not ask for our opinion on how to solve
the problem, but instead demanded each person to identify equipment and
materials on board the ship that could be discarded.

It then took another week to decide on which provisions
to discard and which equipment could be done without.

This time our efforts appeared to have been worthwhile,
and the ship continued to move in a northern direction for a few hours each day.
But within a few days we were back to removing more items from the ship’s
complement.

It was on our ill-fated crew’s eighty-ninth day that, despite
my master’s encouragement and his orders, the ship was no longer capable of
being moved.

It sunk into the mud-soaked land.

Each day, she seemed to rest lower, her new master
gaining an unmovable strangle hold.

This time, the Mahogany Ship had found her final resting
place.

*

I was prepared to die so that my master may succeed, but
had no intention of leaving my master to ruin.

Over the next three weeks it became overly apparent to
everyone involved that the new land, rich in beauty as it was sparse and
desolate, had no means of providing for the remaining men. Working parties had
been sent out in all directions to fend for themselves.

As each leader returned, only one thing was certain.

The crew of the Mahogany Ship must abandon her and
disperse if anyone was to survive. And survive we must, because we had
discovered the most powerful weapon the world had ever known. If only we could
reach our homeland.

“The master wants to speak with you,” said the chief
navigator.

“Just me?” I asked.

“Just you.”

“Where is he?”

“In his master cabin – where else?” The navigator shook
his head disloyally. “He spends hours each day inside there, just looking at it
– you know? I think it’s driven him quite mad. Power does that, you know, and
we’ve all witnessed just how much power that thing yields.”

Ordinarily I would have reprimanded even someone as
senior as the chief navigator for attacking my master. But I could see what was
happening and knew that now was not the time to overplay my master’s authority.
I could feel that there would be mutiny before all persons succumbed to
starvation.

“I’ll go to him immediately.”

I climbed the steps up and into the master cabin at the
aft of the grand ship. It was larger than the average house back home and fit
for a king. In this case, it housed my master, a would-be king, and wielder of
the most powerful weapon mankind had ever built.

“Rat Catcher – have you come alone?” my master asked
immediately.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Very good.” In the middle of the room stood the
magnificent weapon, its sparkling gems glistening in the dim light of a candle.
My master spoke, but at no time did his eyes look away from the evil weapon that
had driven us to our current state. “Five weeks ago, I believe every single man
aboard this ship would have happily given their lives if I asked them to. But
as you know, a lot has changed in that time. Hungry men will do many things
they never would have previously dreamed of if they are hungry enough.”

“Master…”

“Wait… I’m not finished. I cannot maintain command of the
Mahogany Ship for much longer, and I cannot risk losing my master’s great
weapon. So I will tell you what must be done.”

“You will always be my master!” I protested.

“Of course I will. You always were a fool, and a foolish
man alone dies serving a master who cannot provide for him basic sustenance.”
My maser’s hand almost touched the precious stone, but then withdrew it as
though it were poison.

“What would you have me do, Master?”

“I need to disband my crew. Even fools must understand
that this new land, sparsely inhabited, is incapable of providing for the men
in such close proximity. I have broken my crew into eight groups, each under a different
leader’s command. I will send them in all directions in search of food and
help. I will remain here to guard the weapon – I cannot even imagine the
consequence of its power falling into the hands of our master’s enemies.”

“And for me?”

“I have a different plan.”

Homeward Bound, September 1, 1442.

In the early hours of the next morning, well before the
sun had risen, I left with another seven of my master’s most trusted men. We
were on our way back to the southern land where we had arrived so long ago.

We moved quickly, hindered only by meagre provisions and
no personal belongings, with the exception of one scroll on which I was to
continue this journal in the hope of one day retracing our steps.

At the end of the first day, I stopped and made some
notes in this very book. It is the one that my master gave me so that I could
record our journey and so one day return to retrieve the weapon for the
homeland.

I had pleaded with my master to let me stay by his side,
but in the end he ordered me. And so I now obey his wishes.

“Should we try and bring the weapon back with us?” I had
asked.

“No, you won’t be able to protect it,” my master had
responded. “The rowboat may sink, and if it does then the weapon will be lost
forever. Worse still, you may be captured by any one of my master’s enemies. If
that were to happen and the weapon lost, I would be the one responsible for the
collapse of my master’s reign.”

“Then, should we carry it closer to the shore where we
first landed?”

“No, then someone else may come across it. Leave the
weapon here, and I will guard it so long as I’m alive.” My master had then
handed me the scroll and said, “Take this. I have made the first entry in it –
our position in relation to those mountains in the north, the river to the
south, and the desert to the west.”

I had taken the book and held it as if it were the most
valuable possession I’d ever had.

“Keep your entries clear, and make them often so that you
alone may one day return with enough men to fetch the weapon. Don’t fail me in
this, Rat Catcher.”

My master had tears in his eyes as he spoke. As do I, now
that I make my own entries in this journal.

The days went by and we continued to move quickly. I made
entries in my journal often, until we reached the shore where our wooden
rowboat had been deserted.

During that time, the weather had changed considerably
for the colder.

“The seasons are changing – we must find a way north
before we freeze here,” I told my men, of whom I was now master.

“Of course, Master. The rowboat will be ready within the
hour.”

“Good – we must complete our journey so that we can
return in time to save our master.”

All eight of us then loaded the rowboat and started our
long journey home.

The sea was rough and demanded all the strength and
intellect we could muster not to capsize. After three days of continuous rowing
we reached the southern tip of the land. A number of strange currents ran in
both directions and it took us a further three days to finally round the point
and head north.

On the first beach that appeared accessible I gave the
order to land so that we were able to find fresh water and resupply.

Our party found that we were able to row in a northern
direction almost continuously for months on end. Regularly beaching the rowboat
for a day or two – just enough time to find fresh water and scavenge for food –
sustained us.

We never stayed very long on any of the beaches, fear
telling us that the dark colored locals may be violent. More often than not,
the native people appeared more frightened than anything else and kept their
distance. Even so, I had no intention of remaining long enough for a physical
confrontation. The eight of us would make a poor army and would be vulnerable
on land.

After three months, we reached the top of the massive
landmass and were once again able to head west where surely our homeland must
be.

We navigated by the stars as best we could, but none of
us could recognize much of what we saw. I alone knew that we must travel
further north, but had no way of knowing just how far that was. We rowed hard,
driven by the fanatical desire not to betray our master’s trust.

Almost three years later, I and the other seven men
aboard entered the grand harbor which we had once called home, now so long ago.

Longjiang, January 1446

I stepped off the rowboat at the busy port I once called
home.

I felt no fear.

My boat was only one of over a hundred inside the harbor,
and no one looking at us could have imagined where we had come from.

Except that the front of the boat was still ordained with
the name of my master’s ship.

Barloc Wikea.

“You there – who is in charge?” It was one of the harbor
guards.

“I am,” I replied.

“And who are you?”

“I do not know what my father named me, but my master has
always called me Rat Catcher.”

“Then who is your master and where is he now?” The man
was being intentionally rude.

“My master is Barloc…”

The man didn’t let me finish.

“And where has Barloc gone? He left with three of our
greatest ships – there is an order to have him executed upon his return for
treason.”

“Treason!” I complained. “He was the emperor’s most loyal
servant.”

“Then where is he?”

“His ship was damaged in a far off land and he has
remained to guard its most awesome treasure, which he has captured in the name
of the emperor.”

The man started to laugh.

“And you expect me to believe this!”

I was about to run, but someone had already gripped my
wrists and bound them with rope.

All eight of us were taken to a prison until our fate
could be decided.

Three days later a man entered the prison and advised us
that we were all to be executed the following morning for treason.

“But we are loyal servants of the emperor. Please, we
come bearing news of Barloc’s great achievements and to guide a ship to
retrieve the greatest of treasures,” I pleaded.

“You have been away a long time, haven’t you?”

Unable to decide what was expected, I remained silent.

“We were losing so many men to battles upon distant
shores that we were no longer able to keep our enemies from attacking our
cities. The emperor decreed that his navy may no longer leave the harbor.”

“No, but it must. Within the treasure that my master has
claimed for the emperor, lies a weapon so powerful that it will yield
unstoppable strength to its owner. I have seen it with my own eyes destroy an
entire ship with seconds.”

“That is not my concern. I am here to inform you that
tomorrow morning you will be executed.”

The man was obdurate.

That night I called for a guard. The man appeared young,
maybe less than sixteen years old and of all the sentries I’d seen, this one
appeared most ill at ease around the prisoners.

I relayed the story of our adventure to the young man.
Where we had been, and what we had seen – and how my master had stayed with the
stricken ship to protect the treasure so that the emperor could rule for
eternity.

The boy tried his best to explain that he couldn’t help
us escape, even if he had wanted to.

He has gone now, but when he returns in a few hours, I
will shove these writings into his hand and make him promise to do what I could
not, and return for my master.

I only hope that these words will one day lead you to
find my master and return the weapon to the emperor.

Sincerely, Rat Catcher.

The large and cumbersome Chinook had been replaced by the
much smaller and agile Bell UH-1Y Venom, AKA, Super Huey. With Tom at the
controls, Sam sat comfortably as the craft flew over the Victorian town of
Castlemaine and on towards Echuca, where Aliana and his father were waiting for
them. They were going to follow Rat Catcher’s original map, from the Southern
Ocean all the way back to where the Mahogany Ship had been finally destroyed.

Sam found them sitting by an old, beat up Holden Utility,
parked on the edge of town.

“What took you so long?” his father asked.

Sam ignored the question and walked up to Aliana. “I’m sorry
to leave you with my dad, but I couldn’t risk Rodriguez finding out I’d
escaped.”

For a moment, he thought she might slap him, and even braced
himself for the pain.

And then she wrapped her long, slender arms around his neck,
and kissed him. “If you ever do that to me again, don’t expect to see me here
when you return.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

James loaded the equipment into the helicopter and the team
of four carried on towards the Barmah National Park along the Victorian border.

From the air, Sam remembered the story Jie Qiang told of
Barloc’s men having attempted to carry the massive ship all the way from the
southern coast, in an attempt to cross the enormous land mass and gain
latitude. He tried to picture the monstrous ship being dragged over the crest
of the hills, and for a moment, pictured creeks and troughs in the mountains as
though they were possibly caused by the movement of the ship.

“Let’s have a look at this map,” his father said. “You spent
nearly six months in Longjiang, trying to find a lead about this map, and now,
you’re telling me one of our enemies found it first?”

“Yes, I know. Jie Qiang told me that he’d heard you talking
to someone from his town. It was only then that he realized just how valuable
this map really was.”

“Right, well I hope you didn’t pay him too much for it.
After all, it’s practically useless, without this map, too,” James said as he
pulled out his great, great, Grandmother Rose’s map.

“Let’s hope they’re both right.”

Tom smiled as his eyes skimmed over the map. “I just can’t
believe there isn’t a supermarket, or shopping mall, built over the top of it.”

They flew over a number of rivers, including the great
Murray-Darling, which Sam imagined had moved its banks many times in the
centuries that had passed since the Mahogany Ship was carried through this
area.

Still he followed the map, until no more markers were left.

And there, below them, rested the depressed marks of what
could only have once been the most extraordinarily large ship of ancient times.
No wood remained, and grass and trees had grown where the ship once rested, but
from the air, there was still no mistaking this was the final resting place of
the Mahogany Ship.

*

Michael Rodriguez looked at the drawing his great ancestors
had made of the Ark of Light, all those millennia ago. It brought back memories
of the first time his father told him of his true purpose in life.

That his family had been chosen, thousands of years ago, to
look after a sacred artefact that held the key to unlock all of mankind’s
unimaginable powers. He still recalled the shame that he felt as his father
explained that his family, sworn to protect the scepter, had lost it nearly a six
years ago. Followed by the pride to know that he would one day discover it
again.

But of course, he had no intention of protecting it. A
device that offered such power would surely be a waste to keep buried. No, soon
it would be his, and with it, he would introduce a new system of power on
earth.

Sam had done just as he wanted, and soon, his father would
lead him straight to it.

*

“Okay, dad, do you want to read out that map of yours for
me?” Sam asked, staring at the desolate land around them and wondering how such
a monumental historical artefact could disappear into the sands of time, in
such a place.

“No need, I’ve read it enough to know it verbatim.”

“All right then, let’s hear it.”

“We need to fly exactly 22 miles due north of the northern
tip of the bow of the Mahogany Ship,” James said. “And, before you ask, we’re
going to need this to be exact, so let’s work out where the different tips of
the ship are.”

“Okay, I think it’s there,” Sam said, pointing to the ground
to the right of them.

Aliana leaned over, kissing him on his cheek, and said,
“Good guess darling, but I think you’re wrong. Zheng He’s treasure ships had a
two-tiered bow, meaning that the deep imprints that we can see now are the main
keel, whereas the final southern tip would be another fifty feet back.”

“She’s right son. Didn’t you study archeology or something
at some stage as a minor?”

“Egyptology, to be exact – never ancient China.”

Tom banked to the left to make a large circle before
starting the trip from precisely fifty feet back from where Sam had suggested
the northern tip of the ship had once been.

“Everyone happy?” Tom said.

There was a general murmur of agreement, before they
continued on along the treasure hunt.

Aliana picked up and then looked at the old map. “Hey James,
what makes you think any of these markers on this map are still there?”

“Because old Jack Robertson may have been a murdering
bastard, but as a crooked highwayman he’d been used to burying treasure for
years. If anyone knew how to make a map that couldn’t be tainted by time, it
was old Jack. Just look at this – all we have to do is find the tip of the
highest point inside these three points and then walk north 150 feet. Easy.”

After the 22-mile flight, Tom said, “Now where?”

Sam’s father then pulled out the map that he said he’d
memorized and looked at the landscape. “Just hover there for a minute, would
you?”

“You’re the boss, James.”

Almost immediately, he put the map down and said, “Okay,
take us down, over there.”

Landing on the top of the mountain, Sam used the
helicopter’s radar to determine if there was another mountain within fifty
miles higher than the one they were on – and there wasn’t. “Well dad, I guess
you have a bit more luck this time.”

Together, the four members of the team counted 150 feet, and
then stopped.

The land was dry, with a few hardened native shrubs, the
only plants to be seen.

James looked around and happily said, “This is it. Here’s
the spot.”

“That’s great. Where’s the Ark of Light?” Aliana asked.

“Below us… well, actually, it’s somewhere down a river
that’s below us.”

Sam jumped up and down a couple times and said, “The soil
appears pretty sturdy to me. Did you have a plan of getting to the river
below?”

“Yeah. Tom, do you mind running back to the helicopter and
grabbing that box I brought, while I dig a hole?”

Tom nodded his head and then ran back to the helicopter,
returning a few minutes later with the box.

“What did you bring, dad?”

“Dynamite. I’m not sure how old it is. I found it on the old
homestead I was staying at, and thought it might come in handy.”

“Shit, you could have killed us. Do you have any idea how
unstable that stuff is, particular after a number of years, rotting away?”

James laughed, “I’m only kidding. It’s just ANFO, ammonium
nitrate/fuel oil, the more contemporary, and cheaper, explosive commonly used
in mainstay mining and just a little more stable.”

Sam, by this stage, had dug nearly three feet deep in the
soft soil, but each time he tried to dig further, more surrounding sand seemed
to fill the hole.

“You want to keep digging until you reach that river, or
shall I use the ANFO and speed the process up a little?”

“Be my guest,” Sam said, stepping away from the hole.

Sam watched as his father laid the ANFO and set the charge cable
with surprising dexterity, making him wonder just how many times his father had
done this before.

“All right, everyone back… and I mean a long way back.”

Five minutes later, James pulled the detonating switch, and
the ground in the distance disappeared. Slowly, the small party of four, walked
up to where the hole had been. What remained was a limestone cavern large
enough to drive a truck through. And at the bottom, a small creek flowed
gently, into the unknown.

*

Rodriguez drove his six-wheeler at a pace that would have
made the German engineers at Mercedes proud. He knew where they were headed,
but still hadn’t taken into account that they’d use a damn helicopter, making
them a lot faster.

Behind him, Frank and Byron struggled to keep up in their
own six-wheelers, each armed with an AK 47, loaded and ready to go.

Up ahead, and to the left of them, a giant plume of black
smoke reached for the sky, followed by a loud boom, four or five seconds
afterwards.

“Shit, they’ve already reached it!” Rodriguez said out loud,
as he swung the wheel and headed towards the smoke. His foot to the floor, he
challenged every inch of the million dollar Mercedes’s engineering price tag.

*

Sam reached for the fourth dive tank from the back of the
helicopter, ready to follow the stream down as a team of four.

Aliana put her hand on it, effectively stopping him from
removing the tank. “No way. I’m not following you or any of your other crazy people
down through another one of those stupid subterranean rivers. I’ve been there,
done that – not again.”

“Really?  I thought you’d had fun.” Sam grinned. “That’s all
right, but I think you’re underestimating the significance of the Ark of
Light!”

“I doubt it. I’ve heard little of anything else from your
father since you left. Says it has the ability to provide him with unlimited
power… I thought that’s what he already has?”

The two started walking towards the opening where the
subterranean river flowed. Sam laughed. “Yes, that sounds like my father, but
this could be the greatest historical artefact ever found. It could bring peace
to the world, and in the wrong hands, destroy it.”

“I hate to be the pessimist, but in the hands of mankind, I
fear it’s more likely to do the latter. So what, exactly, is it supposed to
do?”

As they approached the cave, Sam saw that his father,
already inside it, had started to run out a long cable, and smiled at Aliana,
as though she, like a naive child, would never understand the importance of
gold and power.

“This scepter,” Sam continued, “when placed on top of the
Pyramid of Giza at the midday of winter solstice in the year 2020, will point
to the final vault of the ultimate artefact – the God’s Relic, an ancient requiem
of all human knowledge, from the first cycle.”

“What do you mean by first cycle?” Aliana asked.

James smiled as he overheard the conversation. Sam
recognized it as his ‘I’m about to tell you something that will blow your mind
type smile’ and then replied, “The generation of humans before present day
civilization occurred.”

Aliana turned her head slightly as she thought about what
he’d said. “We weren’t the first?”

“Not even the second, I’m afraid. The human race only ever
seems to evolve to a certain state, before we inevitably wipe ourselves out.
Some civilizations get further than the next, but somehow we always seem to
mess it up. It’s in our nature,” James said.

“And where do we fit into this? Are we the furthest along
the stream of evolution?”

James thought about the question for a moment and then
replied, “No. And we’re unlikely to beat some of the more successful
civilizations.”

Aliana stared at him. Her expression told them she was
considering if there could really be any truth to any of it.

“Legend has it that this scepter holds the key to a vault,
which contains all human knowledge, spanning all the cycles of civilizations
gone by,” Sam said.

“How does the information get there?”

“No one knows. Some people have hypothesized that earth has
a caretaker… like God, who keeps an eye on things, and stores all the
information that man accumulates until a cycle finally becomes so intelligent as
to break the code.”

“What code?” she asked.

“The ability to not destroy yourself. Something that so far,
all civilizations before us have failed to do.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s in the same realm as a child being
told that Santa Claus delivers presents to children all over the world in a
single night!”

Grinning mischievously, Sam said, “Then again, it might just
have been a longstanding fable, like the Mahogany Ship, that means nothing…”

Aliana clearly didn’t believe a word his father had said. She
replied, “Well this sounds very exciting, but if it’s all the same to you, I
think I’ll just wait here until you retrieve it.”

“Very good,” James said, then throwing his dive gear over
his shoulders, impatiently said, “We’ll see you soon.”

Sam kissed her and said, “I won’t be long.”

Tom then looked at him, and said, “Actually, I’m going to
leave this one to you and your father. I’m going back for the truck you stole
earlier. Based on the weight predictions that James has given me, there’s no
way I’ll get the Super Huey off the ground with that thing on board.”

“You don’t want to dive now, and go back for it afterwards?”

“No, it’s going to take a couple hours to get back with it,
and I don’t want to be flying once it’s dark. Let’s not forget that Rodriguez
and his men are still searching for it, too.”

“Good point.” Sam said, unconcerned. “While you’re there,
you might want to load the wooden crate from the Chinook, too.”

“Okay, will do.”

Sam picked up his netted duffle bag, and then slid into the
water. Surface swimming to the end of the tunnel, he then disappeared below the
surface.