Prologue
Rome, 75 BC
A line of a dozen men stood silent, staring forward into the face of death.
They’d only been captured an hour ago, but every single man knew what was about to happen. What had been a routine trip along the Mediterranean coast had turned into a nightmare. Their temporary captain, a young man most of the crew revered, had made a critical error, steering the ship into a dense fog near a series of islands.
“On your knees, dogs!” a man with long, black hair shouted.
He was the leader of the Cilician pirates, a bloodthirsty group that terrorized the seas from Rome all the way to Spain. Most of the time, Roman ships didn’t bother pursuing them since the pirates provided much of the aristocracy in Rome with slaves for their plantations.
Perhaps the pirates had grown bolder over the years, fed up with serving as mere middlemen to the elite of the Roman Empire.
This was the first time any of those on board the merchant vessel had heard of Cilicians capturing Roman citizens.
One man by the name of Gaius, age twenty-five, stood at the end of the line with his hands folded calmly behind his back. He stared straight ahead into the eyes of a grimy Cilician with a shaved head, earrings dangling from sagging lobes, and crooked teeth.
The twenty-five-year-old was the only captive on the beach who didn’t visibly shake from fear. He knew exactly what the pirates wanted. It was far from his first encounter with their sort. He wasn’t afraid of being butchered on the sandy beach. Corpses weren’t worth anything. Prisoners, however, could fetch a heavy ransom. Gaius knew how pirates’ minds worked. They were in it for money. More than likely, he and the rest of his crew would be released upon receiving payment.
“Each of you,” the black-haired leader said, “will be held here on this island until your ransom is paid. We will be sending a few of you to the mainland as volunteers to collect the money. If you do not return and the ransom isn’t paid, your comrades will be executed.”
Gaius heard a stream of some kind of fluid trickling onto the sand next to him. He looked over at the fearful first mate and shook his head. Courage, it seemed, was left lacking on a merchant vessel.
The black-haired pirate captain came close as he paced up and down the line. He stopped in front of Gaius and leered at him while continuing to speak.
“You will each require a ransom of twenty talents to be paid before you are released. If your friends and family aren’t able to pay, then you will be killed.”
Gaius snorted a laugh and let his eyes drift out to the water beyond the shore.
The pirate captain frowned and crossed his arms. “What’s so funny, boy? You think I won’t do it? Do you have any idea who I am?”
“No,” Gaius said with a devilish grin. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
The leader’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got some nerve for a child.”
“I’m hardly a child, sir. And if you knew who I was, you’d know that I’m worth far more than twenty talents.”
The pirate stood up straight, eyeballing Gaius for a long five seconds. “You hear that, boys?” he shouted at the rest of his crew. “We’ve got a nobleman over here.” He turned back to face Gaius. “I’m so sorry, my lord. Please let me know if we can make your stay here more comfortable.”
“I am not joking,” Gaius said through a stupid-looking smile. “I am Gaius Julius Caesar. And if I were you, I’d ask for fifty talents.”
His friend to the left had finally heard enough. “Never mind him, sir. He’s a little messed up in the head. Too many long days at sea, I think.”
“I am very right in the head,” Gaius protested. “Send my friend here to the mainland. He’ll know who to ask for the money.”
The guy next to Gaius wasn’t so sure, but before he could protest, the leader started laughing. “Very well, your Majesty. We will send your friend and one other to fetch our ransom. Know this, though: should they fail to return or only bring back part of the money, we’ll take out the rest with your fingers and toes.”
Gaius remained resolute. “I have no reason to think they won’t return with all fifty talents, and in a timely manner. While we’re on the subject of telling each other what we should know, you should be aware of something as well.”
“What would that be?”
“When you release me, I shall commandeer a Roman navy ship, bring it back here, and have you all hanged or crucified.”
The leader stared at Gaius for a long ten seconds. The rest of the pirate brigade and all the prisoners in the line turned their heads, shocked at what he’d had the gall to say.
A chuckle escaped the leader’s lips, and soon he and all his men were laughing at full volume.
“Commandeer,” the captain said amid laughs. “He’s going to crucify all of us.”
He turned to his men to the left to share in the fun. Then he motioned to Gaius’s friend. “You, board that ship over there, and take one of your mates with you. My men will deliver you to the mainland where you can fetch the ransom our good king here has requested.”
The friend hesitated.
“No,” the leader said. “You know, that makes it too easy. If our good emperor, here, is as powerful and important as he suggests, anyone will know who he is. We won’t have to send a friend to get the money. Any of you will do.”
He pointed at two other men down the line. Their faces were masks of dread.
“Take these two to the mainland and have them ask for this one’s ransom. Let his name ring through the streets. I’m certain the entire population of Rome will mourn and tear their clothing at the news of his capture. Bring the money to us at once…if it can be obtained.”
The two men didn’t hesitate. They didn’t want to stick around a second longer. Both immediately sprang from their knees and followed one of the other pirates over to a small ship, and hurried aboard.
The Cilician leader was, apparently, done with Gaius for the moment and started stalking his way back down toward the other end of the short line of prisoners.
“As for the rest of you, we expect twenty talents. I will choose who goes and who stays. Same rules apply. Should your messenger fail to return within a reasonable amount of time, you will die.”
Gaius’s friend, named Marcus, leaned close to his shoulder. “What is wrong with you? They’re going to kill us. No one is going to cough up that much money to save your neck.”
“You know my family is well connected,” Gaius said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry about it? Are you insane?” Marcus straightened up again as one of the guards looked in his direction. When the guy turned his head the other way, Marcus leaned closer to his friend again, speaking through unmoving lips. “The Cilicians are some of the most fearsome pirates on the seas.”
“I thought they were the only pirates.”
“Not funny. These guys will kill us, Gaius. We need to do as they say and not make any of them angry.”
Gaius knew better. He’d already assessed every single man in the pirate brigade. It was a gift he’d possessed since boyhood. With a few calculated looks into another’s eyes, he could ascertain who they were, what they feared, and what they wanted. When he looked into the eyes of the pirate leader, he saw greed.
That was the best way to play the scenario. He would be so bold that the Cilicians would think he was some kind of jester or a lunatic. Either way was fine. Gaius needed time. And he needed the chance to search the island while they were being held prisoner.
He hadn’t told Marcus the real reason they were there. His friend believed the captain had taken a wrong turn. What Marcus didn’t know was that Gaius had been the one at the helm while the captain had unexpectedly taken ill. Of course, the sudden sickness would pass, a simple matter of passing the captain some bad food or drink made sure he was out of commission but not permanently injured.
With the captain retching into a bucket and pretty much incapacitated, that left Gaius to make the decisions, which was the only way he could make the detour to the island where the Cilicians were hiding just off shore.
Of course, Gaius hadn’t known the pirates were there. He’d mistakenly believed that the island was uninhabited.
And to be fair, the Cilicians didn’t live there. They were seafaring bandits, roaming the coastlines of the empire to pillage whatever they could find.
Gaius wasn’t about to bend a knee to their kind. He detested pirates; they were cockroaches, nothing more.
They were beneath him and he knew it. Whether they, too, realized this, was trivial. They would learn who he was soon enough.
Luckily, he'd seen the masts of the pirate vessels before the enemy realized the merchant ship’s mistake. Gaius didn’t have much time. He ordered the first mate, a sniveling weakling of a man, to take the helm while Gaius rushed below deck.
He knew there would be no outrunning the Cilicians once they’d been spotted. That meant he had only one option: hide the map, along with the clues written on it, and hope they never found it.
He found an empty wine jug, stuffed the map inside, and sealed it with wax. Next, he found a secret compartment in the captain’s quarters that he’d seen before and hid the jug inside. Once the panel was closed, it looked like any other piece of the ship’s hull. The only way to tell there was anything out of the ordinary about it was a slight scratch on the surface near the seam on the right end.
When the pirates boarded the vessel, they searched high and low for any valuables. None of them ever found the panel, at least not that Gaius could tell. He was removed from the ship shortly after the boarding party began their raid. He watched from a skiff as the Cilicians unloaded goods from the merchant vessel, though there wasn’t much to take.
They had been on their way to pick up a load for trade. The lack of loot on board was probably why the pirates decided the best way to get anything of value for their time was to hold some of the crew for ransom.
“Take them to their quarters, men!” the pirate leader shouted. The sudden volume snapped Gaius back to the moment.
The leader turned to him and snorted. “Be sure to give our honored guest the best bed we have.”
The pirates laughed as they jerked the men off the ground and shoved them toward a trail leading away from the beach.
Gaius and Marcus were lined up one after the other, with the latter taking up the rear.
“Are you insane?” Marcus asked.
Gaius didn’t answer immediately. He stared ahead, peering between the rocks and an outcropping of palm trees. “No, my friend,” he said in his usual, confident voice. “Trust me. I have a plan.”
Chapter 1
Atlanta, Present Day
“Keep going!” Diego shouted.
“I’m…going…as…fast…as I can,” Corin huffed.
Diego risked a glance back over his shoulder. The bullies were only forty feet behind them and gaining quickly.
Last week of school, and these guys still weren’t letting up. As if an entire year of tormenting the younger kids wasn’t enough. The bad news was the bigger kids were only in seventh grade. Which meant Corin and Diego had to endure one more year with them.
The first year of middle school had been full of ups and downs. Being in the sixth grade had been tough. It took students from being on the top of the elementary school food chain and plopped them firmly back on the bottom of a new pecking order. And it would happen again when they entered ninth grade, but that was years away.
Right now, the brother and sister had to find a way out of this situation.
Corin and Diego Townsend weren’t blood relatives. Diego’s mother and Corin’s father had each divorced years earlier, and when they’d met and fallen in love, both Corin and Diego had gained the sibling each had always wanted. The adjustment period was even shorter once they learned of each other’s passion for history and mysteries. It was as if they’d known each other forever.
Diego’s legs burned as he took another look over his shoulder. The bullies were getting closer.
Three of them, all led by a tall, lanky boy named Jake Moore, had made a habit of taking out their inner turmoil on those who were least able to defend themselves. The bullies never stole anything. Jake and his crew were smart. They knew what would happen if they took another kid’s phone, shoes, money, that sort of stuff. So they punished the weak in other ways: pouring a soda down the back of someone’s pants, gluing a locker shut, or a simple old-school wedgie.
Diego looked off to the right through an opening between two houses. A thick forest lay just beyond a row of back yards.
“Quick, Corin!” Diego shouted. “Cut through there!”
Corin’s brown ponytail whipped around to the left as she looked toward the gap between houses. Her reaction was immediate. She planted her left foot, pivoted on a dime, and cut through the grass toward the forest.
Diego followed, hoping their sudden detour might buy them some time. As he and Corin rounded the back corner of the houses and kept running between the fences, he glanced back again and saw Jake and his cronies still in pursuit.
The detour had done nothing to slow them down.
“Keep going,” Diego ordered amid panting for breath. “We’ll lose them in the woods.”
Corin didn’t want to go into the woods. She didn’t want to get mugged by a bunch of bullies either, though she knew she’d get off easy. Even the school’s worst bullies didn’t pick on girls. Girls had their own problems. If Jake caught up to them, though, Diego would pay.
She didn’t have a choice.
Corin shook off her hesitation and sprinted headlong out of the grass, planted her left foot on some mulch surrounding the border between civilization and the forest, and jumped.
She sailed over a row of short bushes and landed on the forest floor with a grunt and a thud. A split second later she heard Diego’s feet hit the same spot.
“Keep going,” he gasped.
Corin did as told and pushed ahead down what looked like a narrow animal path. Her legs felt heavy, and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep going. She knew Diego had to be tired, too. Their only consolation was that Jake and his buddies were built for strength, not speed. They were bigger, but not in great shape.
A quick look back told her that the bullies were losing momentum as they neared the border to the forest.
The siblings forced themselves to keep going, ducking and weaving around trees, branches, and the occasional spider web stretching across the path. They ran another few minutes until, suddenly, they arrived at a fork in the trail. It split into three directions: going deeper into the woods, and veering off to the right and left.
She skidded to a stop and looked in both directions, and then straight ahead.
“Which way?”
Diego didn’t hesitate. “Keep going straight.”
She wanted to ask if he was sure, but there was no time. They could hear the bullies still lumbering through the woods behind them, though now the clutter of trees blocked the boys from view. Despite having put a small amount of distance between them since entering the forest, Corin and Diego were far from out of trouble.
Corin took off again, running on the tips of her toes to stay as quiet as possible. Diego did the same, doing his best to keep their chosen path discreet. The trail curved around huge oaks and poplars, winding its way deeper into the woods. The canopy overhead grew thicker, and the sunlight that had creaked through in hundreds of places before could barely find an opening. It was darker here, giving it the feel of dusk even though it was the middle of the afternoon.
Corin slowed her pace to a jog as she looked around the darkened woods.
“What are you doing?” Diego asked, still panting for breath. “They’ll catch up.”
“There’s something strange about this place.”
They both ground to a halt and gazed around at their surroundings. There was no sign of the bullies anymore. They couldn’t even hear them.
“Did we lose them?” Corin asked.
Diego checked behind them and didn’t see anything. “Maybe.”
“Over here,” a voice hissed from behind a huge oak tree.
The siblings both nearly jumped out of their shoes.
They looked in the direction from where the voice had come and saw a dark head poke out from behind the tree. The whites of the kids’ eyes nearly glowed in the dim light of the forest.
“They won’t find you over here. Come on,” the boy urged.
Corin and Diego looked at each other with doubt in their eyes. Suddenly, they heard another sound from the trail behind them. The doubt melted away, and they rushed off the path toward the big tree. The boy disappeared behind it. The siblings crept around the tree and found the boy was gone.
“What in the world?” Diego asked.
“Where’d he go?”
Then the tree did something bizarre. Part of the trunk slowly opened. The boy was hiding inside. The tree was hollowed out, and part of the trunk had been made into a door.
“In here,” the boy said. “Hurry.”
Something shuffled in the forest back down the trail from where they’d come. They didn’t have time to debate whether or not it was safe to get in the odd hiding place. It was that or get caught.
They climbed into the hollowed trunk, and the boy closed the door behind them.
“What is this?” Diego asked. He was still trying to catch his breath.
“Those guys who are chasing you have come after me before. I spent a few weekends with my grandpa cutting out the dead wood of this tree. Makes a nice hideout.”
The boy looked out through a narrow slit in the bark.
“See?” he whispered. He pointed out through the opening.
It was a tight fit inside the tree. Corin and Diego shifted around uneasily to get a better view.
They watched as their chief pursuer lumbered by on the trail. He stopped abruptly and started turning his head around in every direction.
“Where’d you go, Diego? Huh?” Jake’s voice echoed through the forest and sent a chill up Diego’s spine.
Diego and Corin’s host held up a hand to keep the other two quiet, not that he needed to. They were more than happy to keep their mouths shut.
After a minute of listening and surveying the area, Jake decided he must have gone in the wrong direction. He trotted off back down the way he’d come, and after a minute the forest fell silent again.
“Okay,” the boy said to his guests. “He’s gone. Follow me.”
Corin frowned. “Follow you? Wait a second. Who are you? Haven’t I seen you in the hall at school?”
“Yeah,” the boy said. “I’m Desmond. We’re in the same grade. We just don’t have any classes together. I saw what happened with Jake and your brother here. You are brother and sister, right?”
They looked at each other hesitantly.
“It’s…complicated,” Diego said.
“What he means is we’re not related, but our parents married each other.”
“I don’t need your whole Wikipedia page,” the boy said with a hint of pepper in his voice. “You live in the same house. You’re brother and sister. If you want to get out of these woods without getting a beating, you need to follow me.”
Diego liked Desmond immediately.
“Lead the way.”
Desmond cautiously opened the makeshift door and poked his head out. He looked in every direction to make sure they were in the clear and then took off at a trot.
Diego urged Corin to follow.
“You sure we should?” she asked.
“He just helped us.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. A second later, she jumped out of the tree and ran after Desmond.
“I guess I’ll just close this,” Diego muttered to himself and then closed the tree door quietly.
Desmond led the way down the trail with his two new friends close behind. They moved at a steady pace but didn’t run, knowing the threat had gone in the other direction.
After walking only a few minutes, the forest thinned, and more homes were visible through the trees.
“That’s my house,” Desmond said. He still used a hushed tone despite no signs of Jake and his cronies.
Diego and Corin exchanged a quick glance.
The group reached the edge of the woods. Diego took one more look back to make sure they’d lost their pursuers. Jake and his friends were gone.
“This is a really nice neighborhood,” Corin said.
She stared around the last of the tree trunks at the home Desmond claimed to be his.
He stepped out of the forest and onto the lush, green grass of the backyard. His house was white brick with dark, nearly black shutters, doors, and gutters. It was two stories high with a white chimney on one end. The home was much larger than Diego and Corin’s.
“So, this is your house?” Diego asked as they walked across the lawn. The two guests almost wondered if they should stay off the grass since it was nearly perfect.
“Yes,” Desmond said. “Lived here for several years.”
Corin jerked her thumb back toward the woods. “Thanks for helping us back there. I really appreciate it.
“No problem,” Desmond said with a smile. “Like I said, I knew you were in trouble.”
“Convenient you had that secret tree.”
Desmond gave a nod. “It’s a great little spot to get out of trouble, although when we built it that wasn’t the original purpose.”
“I’ll say.”
Desmond led the way to the back door of the huge house and stopped on the doorstep. He reached into his pocket and fished out a key. A few seconds later he’d unlocked the door. He stood just inside the house, holding the door open for his new friends.
“Come in,” he said. “I’ve got some juice in the fridge if you’re thirsty. Bottled water if you want.”
The siblings hesitated for a second, glanced at each other with doubt in their eyes, and then looked back at Desmond.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not going to bite.”
Diego smirked and stepped into the house. “I’m not worried about the biting. I’m worried that we need to get home soon, and I’m not sure how to get there. Our parents will be home in the next half hour or so.”
“Where do you live?”
Diego gave the name of the street and neighborhood.
“I know that area. It’s not far from here. It’s just a five-minute walk. And I doubt those bullies will be anywhere between here and there.”
“You sound awfully certain.”
“Like I said,” Desmond grinned, “it isn’t my first run-in with those guys.”
Corin entered the house, and Desmond closed the door.
The back entrance led into an impressive kitchen featuring stainless steel appliances, dark granite countertops, hardwood floors, and white cabinetry.
It was one of the nicest kitchens the siblings had ever seen, much more modern than theirs at home.
Pictures hung on the walls of Desmond and two adults. Diego and Corin assumed them to be Desmond’s parents.
“What would you like to drink?” Desmond asked as he yanked open the refrigerator.
“I’ll have a bottle of water,” Diego said.
Corin flashed him a glare, as if he wasn’t supposed to ask for anything.
“What?” he said. “I’m thirsty. We just ran all the way from the school.”
Desmond pulled a bottle out of the fridge and handed it to Diego. Then he looked at Corin, waiting for her request.
“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll have one, too. Thank you.”
“Sure thing,” Desmond said as he handed her a cold bottle and kept one for himself. “Come on. Follow me.” He motioned with his hand and walked around the corner into a living room.
More family pictures hung from the wall. A stone fireplace was built into the wall on the far side with a huge flatscreen television fixed above the mantle.
Along with all the pictures dotting the walls, there were also dozens of strange objects. Some were easy to recognize. A sword hung horizontally just below the television. A long wooden mask with white and red lines and dots painted on it was propped on a pillar in the corner. There were necklaces, some made from precious metals and others made out of wood. Pictures of Desmond’s parents with people Diego and Corin didn’t recognize were sprinkled in with the family photos. They looked like they were taken in foreign lands. One was in a desert. Another was taken atop a high mountain next to some ruins. The landscapes were all different, but the constant features were Desmond’s parents and what looked to be some kind of artifacts.
“This place is awesome,” Diego said as his head turned in all directions.
“Thanks,” Desmond said. He plopped down on one of the deep leather sofas and opened his bottle. “I like it.”
“What do your parents do?” Corin asked, sitting down on a leather seat to the side of the big couch. “If you don’t mind me asking, I mean.”
Desmond flashed a warm smile. “Why would I mind?”
“I don’t know. Some people are weird about that.”
She couldn’t think of any examples off the top of her head, but she assumed there were people like that out in the world.
“They like to think they’re archaeologists,” Desmond said.
“Like to think?” Diego asked.
“Yeah, I mean, that’s what their degrees were in, and if you had to categorize it, that’s what it would be. The truth is, though, I like to think of them as something else.”
“What’s that?”
“Treasure hunters.”
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