Chapter 46

AUSTIN WOKE UP FEELING as if he’d been mugged. He had foolishly expected to be fully conscious until the time he met with Baltazar. Instead, he’d let himself be sucker-punched.

A man’s face came into focus less than a yard away. The face was heavily bandaged on the right side.

“Feeling better?” the man said in a disinterested tone that suggested he didn’t care one way or the other.

Austin’s head ached, his tongue was fuzzy, and his vision was blurred.

“Compared to roadkill, not bad,” Austin replied. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Squire. I work for Baltazar.” He offered Austin a glass of clear liquid. Seeing Austin’s hesitation, he spread his lips in a crooked grin that showed missing teeth. “Don’t worry. If Baltazar wanted you dead, you’d be pushing up daisies. It will counteract the effect of the chemical they used on you.”

Austin took a sip. The liquid was cold and had an artificial sweetness. The pounding in his head lessened, and his eyes regained their focus. He was lying on an army cot. His newfound friend sat on a folding chair. They were in a large rectangular tent. Sunlight filtered through the translucent red-and-white stripes.

“I’ve been unconscious all night,” Austin said.

“You must make them nervous. They gave you enough happy juice to knock out a steer.”

Austin drained the glass and handed it back. The man had the husky build of a professional wrestler and wore blue denim coveralls. A pair of aluminum crutches leaned against his chair.

“What happened to your face?” Austin said.

The left-hand side of the man’s mouth jerked downward in a half frown. “Stuff happened to it,” he said. “Get up.”

Squire used his crutches to push himself to a standing position. He leaned on the crutches and watched as Austin slowly swung his legs over the side of the cot and got to his feet. Austin was slightly dizzy, but he felt his strength rapidly returning. He clenched and un-clenched his fingers into fists.

Squire caught the subtle motion. “In case you’re thinking about trying something funny, there are two guards outside the tent, and they’re not friendly guys like me. Mr. Baltazar gave me the authority to have them work you over. Understand?”

Austin nodded.

Squire gestured toward the door. Austin stepped outside and blinked in the bright sunlight. The guards were posted on either side of the door. The medieval tunics they wore didn’t match the automatic weapons pointed at Austin. The men had a deceptive lazy look in their eyes, as if they would be glad if Austin gave them a chance to relieve their boredom.

The tent was one of a dozen drawn up in two rows on a large open field bordered by woods. At the center of the opposite row was a raised reviewing stand. The structure was roofed, and closed in on the sides. The corners were built in the shape of towers. Pennants bearing a bull’s-head emblem snapped in the wind.

An open space around fifty feet wide separated the lines of tents. A low wooden rail divided the space in half for most of its length. At each end, separated by the rail, two men in full armor were mounted on gigantic horses. They held wooden lances that had blunt metal points. The huge animals were equally covered with armor, which reflected the morning sunlight.

Someone in the stand waved what looked like a green handkerchief. The armored men spurred their mounts and charged toward each other with lowered lances. The earth shook from the impact of the hooves. The riders met at midpoint with a mighty crash of spears against shields. The wooden lances shattered. The horsemen rode to the end of the rail, spun their horses around, and charged each other with upraised swords. Austin didn’t see the second phase of the fight because his guards herded him between two tents.

He glanced around and saw fields and woods. A flicker of red materialized at the edge of the trees. It was a car moving at a high rate of speed. At the last minute, the driver hit his brakes and the Bentley skidded to a halt, with the heavy bumper inches from Austin’s knee.

The door flew open, and Baltazar got out from behind the steering wheel. The sunlight gleamed dully off the coat of mail he wore under a tunic emblazoned with a bull’s head. He had a wide grin on his broad face. “Nerves of steel as usual, Austin.”

“I’m just moving slowly after the cocktail your men gave me, Baltazar.”

Baltazar clapped his hands. The Squire brought over two leather-covered chairs, which he placed so they were facing each other. Baltazar sat in one and offered the other to Austin.

“What do you think of our little joust?” he said.

Austin gave Baltazar’s armor and tunic the once-over. “I thought I was on the set of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.”

“Consider this as time travel,” Baltazar said. “I’ve re-created every detail here as it would have been at a fifteenth-century French tournament.”

Austin glanced at the car. “The Bentley too?”

Baltazar greeted Austin’s jibe with a frown. “In the days of chivalry, the tournament served to train men for war and separated the bold from the not-so-bold. I use it here for a similar purpose with my mercenaries. I take it very seriously.”

“I’m happy you have a hobby, Baltazar, but we both know why I accepted your invitation. Where’s Carina Mechadi?”

“Safe for now, as I said on the telephone.” He stared at Austin as if he were a lab specimen. “You must think a great deal of the young woman to allow yourself to be taken prisoner.”

Austin smiled. “I missed your face, Baltazar. This way I got a free ride to see you.”

Baltazar thrust his oversized jaw forward. “Then talk, Mr. Austin. I’m eager to learn if you have anything worthwhile to say.”

“To begin with, I know what it will take for you to let Carina go.”

“Ah, a proposition. What do you have to offer?”

“The location of King Solomon’s mine.”

“You’re bluffing, Austin.” Baltazar said with a sneer. “Besides, I have the original Navigator, with its map. Why would I need to bargain with you?”

“Because if you knew the mine’s location, there would have been no need to kidnap Carina and use her as bait to catch me.”

“Maybe I did it to swat an annoying fly, Austin. But I’ll indulge you. Tell me about the mine. Perhaps you can use the information as a bargaining chip.”

Austin grimaced as if he were making a painful choice. “The patterns on the bronze cat were a map. Computer enhancements showed the location of a Phoenician shipwreck. An amphora salvaged from the wreck contained a papyrus with details of the mine.”

“And do you know the author of this fabulous papyrus?” Baltazar said.

“His name was Menelik, son of Solomon.”

“Menelik?” It came out as a hiss.

“That’s right. He transported a sacred relic to North America.”

Baltazar’s reaction was more subdued than Austin expected.

“Your attempt to shock me with your knowledge only displays your lack of understanding of the situation. Do you have any idea what this sacred relic is?”

“Maybe you can fill me in.”

Baltazar smiled. “It’s the original Ten Commandments, inscribed on tablets of solid gold.”

“I’m not buying, Baltazar. The original Commandments were clay.”

“Your words betray your ignorance. There were supposedly three versions of the Decalogue, all made of clay. But there were actually four. The first one predated the others. That version was based upon the pagan beliefs of my ancestors but was deemed too controversial. Supposedly, the tablets were destroyed. The truth is, they were hidden, and passed down to Solomon, who decided to transport them to the farthest reaches of his empire.”

“You’re richer than Croesus,” Austin said. “What’s a few more pounds of gold to you?”

“Those tablets rightfully belong to my family.”