And here we stand, Rambaldo thought. Brave Christians all. Liberating this Christian city from its Christian rulers in the name of Christianity. Religion at its most crazy.
In future years he hoped the world might get better.
The noise inside Hagia Sophia was raucous, riotous. Dandolo appeared to wilt, possibly realizing immediately that even he could do naught to dissuade the crusaders from their damaging path. In another moment the Doge seemed to come to a decision, waving his men away from the hall and toward sparser areas.
“If we cannot save all her history,” he said aloud, “along with the remainder of this great city’s, then we can preserve only its finest.”
Rambaldo thought of the Hippodrome and its famous horses and wondered what Dandolo had in mind for them. How had the Doge come by such secret knowledge? Of course the answer stared him immediately in the face — many years earlier, before becoming the 42nd Doge of Venice, Dandolo had been appointed ambassador to Constantinople, charged with the thankless task of settling Venice’s disputes through diplomatic settlements. His many visits would have led to familiarity, acquaintance and the inevitable learning of secrets. Back then, of course, his sight had not been afflicted.
And the siege and final sacking of Constantinople was granted through his direction.
Rambaldo followed his leader deep into the great church, at one point twisting around to the exterior and re-entering through a smaller barred gate until all was in silence and a deep, fetid air permeated the small space in which they were gathered. Before them lay the entrance to a catacomb and the rumbling rush of deep water.
Were there secret passages underneath Hagia Sophia?
Dandolo, though blind, appeared to know exactly where he was going.
Rambaldo followed with thirty other knights, seeking the treasure of treasures.
ONE
Michael Crouch heard his cellphone ringing and sent his hand fumbling through his pockets to try and find it.
Caitlyn Nash held it out at arm’s length, not looking at Crouch but carrying on her conversation with Zack Healey.
Crouch shook his head a little. “Thanks.”
He checked the screen. The call was from Rolland Sadler, his new team’s wealthy benefactor — the man who funded their treasure hunting expeditions.
“Hello, Rolland.”
“Michael. I hear you’re over in America helping Greg Coker out of a sticky situation. Isn’t he the man who tried to have you all killed recently?”
Crouch laughed quietly. “You’re certainly well informed, Rolland. I wasn’t aware anyone other than Alicia knew what we were up to.”
“Ah, the incomparable Miss Myles. I hear she helped save Mai Kitano recently. Has she returned yet?”
Crouch hesitated. “Not yet.”
“I know of her loss during that mission. Perhaps she decided to stay for the funeral.”
Crouch stared into the middle-distance. “Perhaps, but unlikely. Alicia’s instinct would be to move on as fast as she possibly could. I’ve been waiting for a good enough excuse to contact her.”
“Then I’m even happier I called. Have you finished your… um… business with Coker?”
“Greg’s fine. The hired goons who were watching and intimidating his family refused to give up even after we took care of their boss over in South Africa. The problem has now been resolved.”
“Excellent. Then I believe I may have a new quest for you, Michael.”
Crouch immediately felt a thrill course through his veins. All his life he had been awaiting this new adventure. Though an extremely capable soldier and even more highly regarded leader Crouch’s real love had always been founded in archaeological mysteries. The life of a soldier had been his job, his responsibility, but his real calling lay with the hunting down and discovery of ancient treasure, so when the chance came, as Crouch hit his fifties, he embraced it with his entire being. He set up a trusted crew, a group of fighters and investigators, and listened to what Rolland Sadler had to say. Crouch, a sentimentalist at heart, stored and remembered details of every lost treasure he’d ever investigated — now the old, half-serious potterings were starting to bear wholesome fruit.
“You have my attention, Rolland.”
“I thought I might. Let me first paint a picture for you — a crusader army marching to liberate Jerusalem. Invited to take a short cut through Constantinople. Arriving there, they are told they no longer have passage…”
“The Fourth Crusade,” Crouch said, “that led to the sacking of Constantinople and the downfall of the Byzantine Empire.”
“Among many other things. The sack of Constantinople was a turning point in history. One of the first and irrefutable proofs that many who fight in the name of religion are actually full of shit.”
“Even the Pope condemned it as I remember.” Crouch thought back through a lifetime of studies. “Some of the world’s greatest treasures destroyed or lost forever.”
“Just so. Well, as you know Constantinople is now called Istanbul. You may have heard that the site where the ancient docks once stood has recently been uncovered over there. A new road was being built, I believe, which unearthed the historical site exactly where archaeologists always said it was…” a note of quiet satisfaction crept into Sadler’s voice. “So, no more road and a great dig gets underway.”
“Really?” Crouch was surprised.
“No. Of course not. The road, its money men and the government wouldn’t stand for that. Our unique ancient site is due to be filled with concrete and the archaeologists have but a few weeks to find whatever they can.”
Crouch nodded silently. Realizing now that this call was another turning point he took a seat at the table. His current team, Caitlyn, Healey and Rob Russo had met this morning at a local Denny’s for breakfast. The blueberry pancakes were as good as ever, the hash browns a tasty side and the coffee mellow, hot and plentiful.
“So what have they found, Rolland?”
“I can’t say too much at this point, Michael. What I really need is you and your team on a plane, headed for Istanbul. We don’t have much time. Can you do that?”
Crouch wondered at Sadler’s reticence. Was the find that valuable? And if so, why did they need a team that hunted for lost treasures? Clearly, there was an awful lot being left unsaid. “Of course. We can be on a plane in a matter of hours. I’ll have to check Alicia’s status first—”
Heads were swiveling toward him, none larger or harder than Russo’s. The movement was as deliberate and slow as an ancient stone statue coming to life.
“They found something under those docks, Michael. Something astounding.”
“How astounding?”
“It will rewrite parts of history.”
“Bloody hell. Now you’ve piqued my interest. But how can it be lost, and can’t you tell me more?”
“Just remember your history around 1200 AD. Alexandria being attacked and the Hippodrome of Constantinople. The Fourth Crusade and the Doge of Venice. The best known wonder that he stole. And get on that plane.”
Crouch’s head was a swirling constellation of memories and suppositions. How on earth could an ancient, newly found dock in Istanbul be connected to an attack on Alexandria — of which there had been countless throughout history — and then the old Hippodrome? Where did that fit with the crusaders? And what the hell did the Doge steal that Sadler seemed to think was so famous?
“All right, Rolland. I’ll call you when we’re in the air.”
Crouch glanced across at his crew. “Hope you weren’t planning on finishing those meals, guys. We have a new treasure to seek out.”
Russo sighed at the stack of pancakes before him. Caitlyn smiled. “When you say new — do you really mean old?”