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“A little something about sibling psychology. The older sibling—particularly a male heir—is a little king from birth, doted on by everyone in his world. When a younger male sibling comes along, the firstborn is supplanted at the mother’s breast and feels threatened in every way. It is the older sibling who bears the resentments, who feels wronged and robbed by his own brother, by his family and society. So he’s more likely to be the aggressor. The younger brother is usually the unsuspecting offender who’s easily taken by surprise. What’s different here is that Attila was not unsuspecting or easily defeated. It doesn’t fit anything we know about him. He was a born fighter. He had lived at the Emperor’s court in Rome as a hostage when he was a teenager and could probably smell a conspiracy from a hundred miles off.”
“What evidence is in the inscription?” Remi asked.
“He said Bleda ‘was chosen’ to die. He didn’t just die. Fate or the Creator chose one of the two brothers over the other. That implies that both were at risk, as in a fight. This is also the saddest of all the deaths of Attila’s life up to that time. He had already lost his mother, father, uncle, and two wives that we know of. One thing that would make Bleda’s death worse was if he forced Attila to kill him.”
“It’s horrible,” said Remi, “but the more I think about it, the more likely it seems.”
There was a call for passengers to board the flight to Bucharest. “Thanks, Albrecht. We’ll talk to you when we’re on the ground again.” She quickly dialed Tibor’s number.
“Yes?”
“It’s Remi and Sam,” she said. “The address you gave us in France was correct. It worked out. We’ve turned the treasure over to French authorities for safekeeping. The next spot is in Transylvania, on the River near Alba Iulia, and we’re on the way. But Bako got the inscription too. Could you please—”
“We’ll watch them every minute,” said Tibor. “We’ll know exactly where they go.”
“Thanks, Tibor. They’re already calling our flight. We’ll call you from Bucharest.” She turned off the phone, and they got up to join the line of people entering the collapsible boarding tunnel to their airplane.
The plane rumbled down the runway and rose into the air. When it leveled, Remi lifted the armrest between her and Sam, leaned her head on his shoulder, and promptly fell asleep. The uninterrupted race from one country to the next, the heavy physical labor at night and searching in the daylight, had finally exhausted her. After a short time, Sam slept too.
They awoke when the pilot announced the approach to Bucharest Airport. After clearing Romanian customs, they picked up their rental car. As they drove toward Alba Iulia, Remi read a history about Attila and his brother Bleda that she had downloaded to her phone at the airport in Paris.
“It says here that Bleda had a famous Moorish dwarf named Zerco in his retinue. Bleda was so fond of him that he had a special miniature suit of armor made so he could go on campaigns with him.”
“If I were Zerco, I think I would have passed up the honor,” Sam said. “It must have been like getting into a fight where everyone else is twelve feet tall and weighs a thousand pounds.”
“I suppose having a king’s favor and protection must have seemed worth the risk.”
Sam was silent for a moment. “Is there any mention of what Zerco did after Bleda was killed?”
“No,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean much. This is a travel guide, not a serious history.”
They drove directly to Alba Iulia without stopping until they reached their hotel. After checking in, Sam called Tibor on his cell phone.
“Yes?”
“We’re in Alba Iulia,” said Sam. “Any news?”
“Yes, but it’s all bad,” Tibor said. “Bako is still at home. He’s working in his office at the factory right this minute. But his favorite five security men have all packed up and driven eastward into Romania. I have my brother and two cousins following them and, so far, they’re heading straight for you.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Sam said.
“They’re traveling in two vehicles, both American-made SUVs, both new, both black with tinted windows. They’ve been on the road since early this morning, so they might already be there. If you see them, don’t let them see you.”
“Thank you, Tibor. We’ll look carefully before we do anything.”
“Good luck.” Tibor signed off.
Remi said, “We could find some central place in town and watch for them.”
“Not this time. They know we had a chance to see the inscription on the shield before they did and they’re rushing here. They must have gotten a call from the people at Compagnie Le Clerc and left within an hour or so. If Bako isn’t with them, they won’t be coming into the center of town for good hotels and restaurants. I think they’ll be out searching until they find the grave even if it means sleeping on the ground in the woods.”
They went back to their car, drove to the River, and followed the road that ran parallel to it, searching for any landmark that might signal an undisturbed piece of ancient masonry. They kept going for a couple of hours, then turned around and started to drive in the other direction. As they did, Sam’s cell phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Sam, this is Tibor again. Bako just went home and came out with two of his men. They were dressed in gear like they were going on a safari. Then a third man pulled up in a truck. I think it means that Bako got a call saying that his men have found the burial chamber. I’m in a car following them at a distance, and I’ve got another car to switch places with me now to keep them from spotting me.”
“This is the second chamber they’ve beaten us to,” said Sam.
