The Genghis Tomb Read online

  “Clarify something for me,” she said. “Now you did say the English version of those sheets might as easily be translated to read ‘atop the footsteps of Tengri’, right? Not just ‘in the footsteps of Tengri’ . . .”

  Curious, he lowered his notepad, looking across to the circular table where she sat perusing some of the photos. She’d spent considerable time using the numbered grid found by her and Zayaa, identifying and positioning those images that were immediately adjacent to the mountain identified as Burkhan Khaldun. After carefully removing the narrow white borders with a pair of scissors, she’d patiently overlapped the photos in such a way as to create a much-enlarged picture of the surrounding topography.

  “Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “Why do you ask?”

  Her response was to pose yet another question.

  “And if Tengri was the supreme god of the Mongols, wouldn’t it likewise follow that his footprints might be . . . well, huge?”

  This brought David to his feet.

  “You found something?”

  “Maybe. Look and tell me if I’m not imagining things.”

  He did so, his eyes focusing on the spot indicated by her finger.

  To the southeast of the Khentai range—and not quite directly across from the Burkhan Khaldun—was what could only be defined as a shallow valley running roughly parallel to the mountains. Below this depression, where the elevation abruptly rose to form its southern boundary, was an inward curving line of three separate plateaus. Each was roughly the same size and similar in configuration. When viewed straight down from the satellite, they were elongated ovals equally spaced apart—and not unlike booted footprints!

  Was this the geographical anomaly he’d hoped to find?

  It sure as hell seemed to fit the bill.

  “I’ll be damned,” he whispered.

  “Then this really could be the place?”

  “Are you kidding, hon? I’d be willing to bet money on it.”

  Delighted, she leaned back from the table’s surface, allowing him more room to absorb the overall image. “If it is,” she added, “then I’m pretty sure the distance from Burkhan Khaldun falls inside the necessary parameters. The scale suggests it’s only about eight or nine miles, give or take. It’s difficult to judge. I was about to get the magnifying glass from my—”

  “You have one?”

  “In my valise. Only a small one, I’m afraid. Do you want it?”

  “Please.”

  Another faint anomaly had caught his attention—something made even more intriguing once she returned with the magnifying glass.

  Using it, he studied the length of the valley floor from end to end, wondering if perhaps his eyes were deceiving him? Could these tiny whitish patterns be what they suggested? If so, then Elizabeth’s find was suddenly doubly significant. He retrieved his shoes and slipped them on, she watching with a perplexed expression.

  “Where are you going?”

  “When Vlad phoned, what room number did he say he was in?”

  “906. Do you think you should bother him at this hour?”

  “Hell yes!”

  He returned with Vlad in tow less than a minute later.

  If the little man had made plans to retire for the night, it wasn’t evident. As it turned out, he’d just stretched out to begin a second reading of Valentin Sedov’s old journal, hoping to find something he’d overlooked the first go round.

  David walked him through Elizabeth’s discovery.

  “It all fits too perfectly not to be the location the map refers to—plus it’s well within visual distance in order to use the jade key as the map instructs.” He paused, smiling at the excitement building on Vlad’s round face. “And there’s something else here, as well,” he added, handing over the magnifying glass. “I believe it may also solve the little mystery of the map’s enigmatic blue line.”

  “What?” Vlad stared again at the general vicinity. “Now you’ve lost me. There’s no river here.”

  David’s smile grew.

  “Because it no longer exists,” he said, “—and probably hasn’t for literally hundreds of years. But if you look very closely, I think the indication of where it once flowed is still traceable. It takes a bit of imagination, I admit, but bear with me on this.”

  Using the tip of his pen, he pointed to the evidence supporting his conjecture.

  “See these faint, lighter areas that are intermittently spread out across the length of the valley? Some are a tad wider than others, but most are relatively narrow, scarcely visible. Taken individually, they might be anything. Yet if you link all of them together, what you get is a slightly meandering line running the entire length of the valley floor. My guess is what we’re looking at are small areas of tumbled rocks and boulders once exposed by running water.”

  “From this you’re deducing a dried-up river bed?”

  “I am.”

  Though Vlad obviously wished this to be true, he still harbored doubts. “Okay,” he said, “so then how do you account for these missing sections where they’re not linked? There’s no visual evidence suggest they were ever joined.”

  David was prepared for this argument.

  “That’s why I figure the river’s demise occurred centuries ago—and even back when it actually did exist, I suspect it was probably damn shallow. Once it finally ceased to flow, the ensuing years of windblown sand and drifting soil progressively filled in those stretches, basically hiding the underlying stony bed from view.”

  “When you look at it that way,” Vlad said, “its eventual concealment over a long period of time does seem a natural progression. But I have to wonder what could make a river—even a very shallow one, as you suggest—simply up and disappear in the first place?”

  Elizabeth believed she had the answer.

  “You know, it could’ve been something as simple as long-term climate change. Perhaps its only water source was the accretion supplied by small creeks and such, from much farther up in the mountain range. If these gradually dried up—for whatever reason—then so did the river.”

  It worked for David.

  “That’s probably the best explanation we’ll ever have, Vlad. We could waste time researching this and other possibilities, but to what end? Thanks to Elizabeth, I’m now convinced we’ve effectively resolved all the nagging little riddles and misunderstandings embedded in the map, don’t you agree?”

  “I do, indeed.”

  “Which now frees us to start concentrating on the biggest riddle of them all.”

  “You mean the whereabouts of the jade key?”

  “Precisely.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Early the following morning, Vlad drove over to inform Zayaa of the previous evening’s new developments, returning to the Ramada Citycenter in time to join David and Elizabeth for breakfast in the hotel’s main restaurant. As mutually agreed the night before, they’d scheduled the day’s meeting for David’s suite, foregoing the rather cramped university office as being unnecessary. With brainstorming to be done, all felt it best accomplished under the most comfortable conditions for everyone involved.

  Familiar with Vlad’s daily capacity for caffeine, David took the time to order up a pot of coffee before beginning.

  Though Vlad had stayed up well past midnight reviewing Valentin’s journal for a second time, he nonetheless appeared ready to take their investigation to the next level—that being the hypothetical whereabouts of the missing jade key.

  “By the way,” he said, “Zayaa was quite excited to hear of your findings, Elizabeth, and sends her congratulations. However, as the president has an unusually full schedule today, she doubts she can break away this afternoon.”

  David dropped a fresh notepad on the table as he sat down. Though he was almost reluctant to ask, he knew the subject had to be broached. “So, what’s your final analysis of Valentin’s journal?”

  Vlad frowned as he settled into a comfortable chair.

  “To be blunt, very
disappointing,” he admitted. “If there’s anything positive to be gleaned from it, I don’t know what it is.”

  This came as no surprise to David.

  “Unfortunately, I concur. I read through it a few times before leaving Salonika and found nothing the least bit helpful toward pinpointing the location of his discovery. At best, we’d probably be looking at a two hundred square kilometer search area—and all of it well inside Russian territory.”

  He paused before continuing.

  “In addition to this obvious prohibition, even if a search was possible, whatever do we look for? By his own description, that craggy hill was no different than untold others. And it’s not as if that man’s exposed leg bone would still be lying there after a century. It would’ve been dragged away long ago by some wild animal. The fact that Valentin even noticed it at all was the result of happenstance and pure luck. A fluke. Nothing more than being in the right place at the right time.”

  Despite having reached much the same conclusion, Vlad sighed in disappointment, doubtless hoping David might’ve seen something he’d missed. His previously expressed conviction was that their single best chance of finding the jade key was directly tied to somehow locating this site.

  “You paint a bleak picture,” he said in a dejected tone. “What you’re essentially saying then is our chances of finding the jade key are now slim to none.”

  “If we persist in linking both objectives together, I’d have to say yes.”

  Elizabeth had watched David closely through this brief exchange. “I know that look of yours,” she said, suppressing a faint smile. “You don’t believe this ‘key thing’ was ever with that poor fellow to begin with, do you?”

  David wasn’t surprised at her intuitive observation. After six years together she could read him like a book.

  “If it was, then I’d have to say our investigation is effectively over. However, my best guess is that it probably wasn’t.”

  “Based on what?” asked Vlad. “I hope more than mere wishful thinking.”

  “Let’s break it down logically,” David replied. “If this man was legitimately in possession of the horn map—and for argument’s sake, let’s say the jade key, as well—then how is it even remotely probable he was traveling alone? Think about it for a moment. It just doesn’t compute. These two objects must’ve been almost akin to sacred to the Uriangut clan, right? Whether together, or individually, they were items of extreme value and importance to them. This being said, can you really imagine they’d be moved anywhere without a sizable number of warriors riding guard?”

  The little man’s response came quickly.

  “Ah, but it might very well have been as you describe. What evidence is there to—”

  “Well, for one thing,” interrupted David, “there’s Valentin’s written observations. Remember, according to his journal the rockslide was relatively small; definitely lethal enough to claim one man’s life—which it did—yet not of a size to engulf a host of other men, as well. If they were there, they’d simply have dug him out and retrieved what they were protecting. But clearly that never happened.”

  Several long seconds passed as Vlad juggled this logic.

  “Okay,” he finally said, “so if you’re right, then where exactly does that leave us? I mean, if he was traveling alone—and not legitimately in possession of the horn—then that would make him a thief, wouldn’t it?”

  “Perhaps. But I see a few problems with that scenario, too—not the least of which is how he managed to steal something of such paramount importance from the Urianguts in the first place. And even if that were possible, why would he then head northwest toward Lake Baikal, of all places? As I understand it, that entire region held some of the largest concentration of Mongol clans in all of Mongolia. Hardly a well thought out plan of escape, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Besides, how could a lone thief have possibly avoided being tracked down and captured almost immediately—long before making his way as far from Uriangut territory as we know he did?”

  Vlad shrugged. “Yet it has to be one scenario or the other, doesn’t it?”

  “Not necessarily. Me, I keep thinking there must be another situation or set of circumstances we’re just not considering—something outside the box that could throw a whole different light on this.” He paused, looking from Vlad to Elizabeth. “If anyone has any bright suggestions, now is definitely the time to voice them.”

  Discouraging for all, none surfaced over the next several hours.

  At two o’clock, a disgruntled Vlad went down to sample the hotel’s lunch menu, giving David and Elizabeth an opportunity to discuss matters of a more private nature before his return. Neither of them was hungry.

  Curling up on the couch, she passed on his offer of more coffee, watching as he poured a cup for himself.

  “We’ll have to phone Nick and Maria sometime later tonight,” she said. “That’ll make it—what?—mid-morning in Salonika? I’ll leave it to you to work out the right time. I want to make sure we have the opportunity to talk to Jake, as well.” She smiled wistfully. “God, I miss the little guy so much . . .”

  “Me, too, hon.”

  “This is the first time he’s ever been without both of us for any real period of time.” She shook her head and sighed. “Everything happened so fast. I just hope it wasn’t all too upsetting for him.”

  He smiled at her worry, thinking it unnecessary.

  “He’s a lot tougher than you think, Elizabeth. I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine. Besides, he has his buddy Marko to play with around the clock.” He paused. “So what do you figure we should tell him?”

  “Jake?”

  “No, I was thinking about Nick. We’re going to have to mutually settle on something reassuring before we call—and yet not be too explicit with details. I hate doing it, but we’ll have to ask him and Maria to simply trust us.”

  She nodded her understanding, then interjected, “Oh, and while we’re on the subject, there’s one other thing before I forget. In all the rush, I didn’t pack near enough of Jake’s clothing, so at some point they’ll be taking him over to the house to gather more. Whatever we do, please remind me to tell them he’s not to go anywhere near our bedroom closet, okay? That’s very important.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “When I was in Athens a week or so ago I got him that fancy, red skateboard we talked about for his upcoming birthday. Like I said, everything happened so fast after you left that I never had time to properly hide it from him. It’s not even wrapped, just hurriedly stuck in our closet for safekeeping. We both know how clever he can be at ferreting out—”

  She abruptly stopped, aware of the odd intensity building on his face.

  “What’s wrong, David?”

  He continued to stare at her in silence, thinking perhaps this was the alternative scenario that had eluded them all morning.

  “Wrong?” he managed “Quite the opposite.” He suddenly grinned, which only increased her curiosity the more. “Have I told you recently how brilliant you are?”

  She cocked her head.

  “No, but I’m sure willing to hear your reasons.”

  He checked his watch as he reached for the notepad.

  “If you can be patient for a bit, darling, I really need a little time to think something through before Vlad gets back. That all right with you?”

  “Go for it.”

  By the time Vlad returned to the suite, David was fully prepared to explain his new theory to both of them. By his reckoning, it didn’t provide any immediate answers—but it sure as hell opened up a whole range of possibilities to explore.

  “In my opinion,” he began, “I now think there are sound reasons to believe that what happened to both the jade key and the horn map came not as a result of theft or inadequate protection—but rather from some rapidly developing emergency striking at the heart of the Uriangut clan. This is all speculation, mind you, but bear with
me on this, okay?”

  He hesitated only long enough to lift his hands.

  “Imagine for a moment that a virtual panic situation had somehow developed. Whatever it might’ve been, I think the circumstances of it were such that their shaman simply had no time to adequately prepare. Fearing the worst, he was forced to separately hide both artifacts as rapidly as possible—regardless of the possible consequences.”

  Elizabeth found this puzzling.

  “Why separately?” she asked.

  Vlad saw where David was going and offered an answer.

  “Because this would automatically double his chances of protecting the great secret,” he said. “If you follow the logic of such an unprecedented event happening, it makes perfect sense. Both are ultimately necessary to reveal the whereabouts of the sacred burial location. By themselves, neither one really accomplishes anything.”

  “My thinking exactly,” said David. “And if it was all done hurriedly and in secret—as I suspect it was—this might explain why the man entrusted with the horn map was sent off alone and unprotected.”

  She cocked her head. “So you think the shaman gambled on the fewer people who knew the better?”

  “I can see that happening, yes. Also, it would account for the otherwise odd direction the man was traveling. Whatever the threat was that the shaman feared, he felt the map would be more secure among the north-western clans.”

  Vlad’s aspect began to brighten.

  “Then following this scenario of separating them,” he said, “the jade key would’ve been sent in some other direction entirely? But how can we possibly determine when and where he—?”

  “That’s where you come in.”

  “Me?”

  “Well, you’re the only resident expert on Mongolian history in the room. So let’s tackle the ‘when’ question first, shall we? In all the discussions you and the president had prior to my arrival, did you two never get around to calculating how many kha-khans were likely buried with Genghis? I don’t mean the total. What I’m looking for here are only those who succeeded Kubilai leading up to the fall of the Yuan dynasty—and only those who in all probability were eventually entombed there, as well.”