The Relic Burden: An Ancient Promise Must Be Kept

By Maxx West

1279, Southern China
The fall of the Song Dynasty is imminent. Song General Zhang Shijie is commanded to escape the Mongol horde and preserve a relic that’s been guarded by Chinese Dynasties for more than 1,200 years. His duty: protect it until a time when a man of honor comes to claim it.

1870, Carson City, Nevada
Two employees of the new US Mint in Carson City have an audacious plan. They’re going to rob it. If they’re successful, history will be altered in ways they could never imagine.

Present Day, Sacramento, California
“Loch” Lochborne is determined to prove his radical theory about ancient exploration of the Americas. Enlisting the help of private investigator, Rance Murphy, and his ex-girlfriend, Jackie Powell, the three set out on a journey that takes them to the arid deserts of Baja, California, and the desolate Midriff Islands in the Sea of Cortez. The answer awaits them, but first they must escape a madman hell bent on stopping them at any cost.

What begins as a search for a mysterious, ancient relic becomes a struggle against evil. And, sometimes, evil appears where it’s least expected.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532086595

Maxx West

Maxx West is the author of Tayasal, a story of the last Maya kingdom and a madman determined to resurrect it. He has also written more than fifty magazine articles. Retired from a career in the swimming pool industry, he spends most of his time reading and searching for wayward golf balls. He lives in Williamsburg Ohio with his wife Laurie.

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PROLOGUE

PART 1

March 19, 1279

Yamen, Southern China

Lu Xiafu watched closely with his emperor, Zhao Bing. They were secure among an impenetrable armada of one thousand ships that had been assembled by General Zhang Shijie, the greatest military mind of the day. Safely in the middle of the flotilla, the ships were chained together to form a wall of protection.

The battle was imminent, but Lu Xiafu was confident that the Imperial Song Navy would be victorious over the invaders from the north. The Yuan—Mongols—were ruthless, but he viewed them as nothing more than uncultured, unprincipled heathens. The Song Dynasty had perfected the art of naval warfare, having developed a standing navy 150 years before. They were masters of the sea, and the enemy would be at their mercy. The Song navy also boasted ten times the boats of the Mongols and possessed strategic strength in numbers.

Yet there remained a nagging uncertainty. The empire had shrunk to a smaller and smaller realm. The Song Dynasty had formed over three hundred years before but had been invaded by the Jurchen Jin in 1127. The Jin were relentless, herding the Song farther and farther south, toward the sea. A hundred years later, invading Mongols conquered the Jin, but there was no respite for the remaining Song. Wave after wave of Mongols continued the assault from the north, pushing the shrinking empire to the edge of extinction.

Then, just twenty years before, the Song thought they had eliminated their enemy when they killed the Mongol leader, Mongke. His younger brother took control, and Song generals were confident that their forces would be able to defeat this untested and inexperienced man. But the new leader proved to be even more formidable than Mongke. He was Kublai Khan, and he soon proved to be an unforgiving, barbaric victor as he continued his assault, quickly absorbing Song territory into his own dynasty. Those that fought him died. Those that watched died. Many of those that fled were captured, and they, too, faced his blade.

Within twelve years, Kublai Khan had conquered so much territory that he declared himself emperor of all China. Anyone that stood in his path was assimilated or killed. His march southward had continued until that very day which would host the final showdown—Song versus Kublai Khan. Life versus death.

Shijie anticipated that Khan would attack with fire arrows and had ordered all boat hulls covered with a fire-resistant mud. He also knew that Khan was ill prepared to fight the battle. Mongols were deadly fighters on land, but Shijie had lured them into a confrontation on the sea. However, in war things are not always as they seem.

The battle began with Khan attacking with a much larger and better-prepared force than Shijie expected. Mongol archers were experienced, and their arrows landed on unprotected bows. Many Song ships were soon ablaze, and as they burned, the Mongols advanced on the chained fleet. Lu suddenly realized that Shijie’s strategy to chain the boats together had been unwise, as it prohibited a Song retreat. They were locked in place.

The Mongols steadily advanced. Lu watched in horror as Shijie’s perimeter defenses were smashed, the emperor’s protectors falling en masse. With the steady advance of the Mongols, he became less secure of the assumed safety of the flotilla’s center. Khan’s warriors were efficient and vicious, and he watched as hundreds of Song leapt from their boats, seeking the presumed safety of the distant shore. Most were slaughtered in the water. Those that escaped the carnage in the sea were hunted down and killed.

The Mongols kept coming, their attack relentless, unforgiving, and unyielding.

Now Lu felt vulnerable. Was it possible that his emperor’s dynasty could end this way, at the hands of the invaders from the north? He realized the answer was on the bloody swords of the warriors who slowly and methodically butchered their way closer. He gazed across the deck at his emperor, who stood quietly, a look of confusion on his face as if wondering, What is happening?

Lu sent a message for General Shijie to join him on the deck.

The battle goes poorly, he told Shijie when the man arrived.

The general lowered his head and let out a small moan. I fear that I must face the inescapable and the inevitable. The Mongols have proven to be superior in battle because I failed to adequately plan and enact a successful battle. I am disgraced and am prepared to face the consequences of my failure.

Enough of that talk. You have fought valiantly and with honor. I fear that honor will soon be all we have, and it will be all that historians will write of this battle. They will record your courage and devotion to the emperor, and you will reside in a place of respect with your ancestors.

But I have failed, Lu. I will forever be remembered as the man who led us to our final defeat.

History can be most unkind, Lu acknowledged. However, before we pass into legend and lore, there is still one burden I must ask of you.

I am listening. But can anything be so important as the loss of our emperor and our heritage?

"This is for our emperor, and for fifty generations of ancestors that have come before. It will be the most honorable and eternal responsibility you have ever accepted, as you must take it blindly with a resoluteness and perseverance that cannot be of weak heart. I fear that all that remains of the Song is honor and duty. You are to escape these chains and sail safely away, taking this with you."

Lu removed a small, silver metal box from the pocket of his gown—a box no larger than a small tea box. It was plain and had no markings, the lid sealed with wax. This box contains a relic … an obligation. It has been ours to safeguard for over twelve hundred years.

What is it? Shijie asked as the advancing Mongols moved closer.

I do not know, Lu replied. "None have ever known. It is a blind trust that was placed in our care and a responsibility our forefathers have taken most seriously. The story that has been passed down for over a millennium is that of a dark-skinned man who appeared one day. He was barely alive, babbling in an unknown language and delirious with fever. The farmer who found him sent the palace word of this strange visitor, fearful the man was a demon. Han emperor Guangwu had the man brought before him but felt in his heart he was not a demon but a man of honorable character. He directed his personal physician to care for him, and he was healed. Over the next year, he and Guangwu became friends. The visitor stayed at the palace, learning our language and teaching Guangwu his. He told stories of his distant home and spoke of the desire to return but admitted that he never could. Then, one day, he prepared to leave.

Guangwu pleaded for him to stay, but one night he left, never to be seen again. He left behind this box, still sealed as it was that night, with the request that Guangwu and those that follow protect it until a time when a man of honor comes to claim it. ‘You will know if he is of good heart. He will be wise, and worthy of receiving this. This is the most sacred, yet haunting thing I have. I pray to my God that one day it will have meaning and lend understanding for that which I have done.’ These words have been passed down from generation to generation, repeated as spoken by this stranger.

Do we know where this man came from and who he was? Shijie asked.

He told that his name was Yehûdeh, but that is all that is known. Guangwu knew that he must do as asked. It was a debt of honor, and now this is all we can do—continue to honor that pledge from long ago. I pass this trust to you. It cannot fall to the Yuan. They would dishonor it and all that have safeguarded it. You must break free of this snare and escape. You must honor our ancestors by keeping our promise.

But what will become of you … and our emperor? Shijie asked.

We will not be butchered or enslaved. The Yuan may conquer our lands, but they will never conquer our spirit. Our emperor is of royal blood and will not face the sword or the humility of sublimation. Go. Do what you must do to live and protect this relic. It is your final duty. Know that you have served your emperor well.

Kublai Khan’s forces moved closer and closer to the emperor’s boat, and as they did so, hundreds, even thousands, of the emperor’s court members and consorts jumped from the ships to their watery graves, choosing drowning instead of death at the enemy’s hand. General Zhang Shijie watched solemnly as Lu Xiafu, Song elder statesman and father figure to Zhou Bing, walked slowly to his emperor, who was still entranced with the battle. Lu smiled at him and nodded, indicating that it was time for them to take their leave. He held the emperor tightly in his arms and then lifted him gently from the deck of the boat. Together they plunged into the black waters. Lu and Zhao Bing, the eight-year-old boy emperor, would not face the humiliation of defeat.

General Shijie watched stoically as the Song Dynasty crumbled, a single tear running down his cheek. He had failed, but he now had a final responsibility to the emperor before he could join them in rest. It was a chance for atonement, and he knew that he had to survive and safeguard this mysterious box and the secret it held.

He ordered the chains cut. They soon broke from the pack, his crew oaring the giant boat away to safety. Then he ordered the sails to be hoisted. There was a stiff breeze, and soon the ship sailed safely away from the battle zone. General Shijie stared back and saw only the smoke from the burning ships and the cries of anguish from those that were being slaughtered. A short time later, the cries went silent.

Historians would record that General Zhang Shijie would survive the Mongol siege, escaping north to unknown waters. It was also chronicled that he was assumed drowned in a massive storm just a few days later, but no proof was ever found—no shipwreck … no remains. He simply disappeared into the annals of history, a forgotten man with a secret burden.

PROLOGUE

PART 2

November 23, 1870

Carson City, Nevada

Eustis James was a war hero. During the War between the States, he fought with distinction for the Army of the Potomac. Serving in the Eighth Ohio Volunteer Infantry at the Battle of Gettysburg, he was one of 216 soldiers that held their position and defended Cemetery Ridge against the assault led by Confederate generals George Pickett, Isaac Trimble, and Johnston Pettigrew. Historians called it Pickett’s Charge, but James knew it only as a nightmare. He was still haunted by the recurring image of fifteen thousand Confederate troops mounting their march across the open field. The Union troops were greatly outnumbered, but they persevered. The Eighth OVI held their position and flanked the enemy led by Colonel John Brockenbrough, forcing them to break and run—the first time that ever happened under Robert E. Lee. By the end of the charge, 103 of the Eighth OVI had been killed in the battle, and virtually all the rest were wounded—most several times. James was one of the wounded; he had taken two Minié balls in his right leg, and another had grazed the side of his head, with a hole shot right through his cap. Seven years later, he still had the cap, and he frequently clutched it, pressing his finger gently through the Minié ball hole. What if? he often thought. Why was he spared when so many of his Ohio brothers never saw the sun set on that July third day back in 1863?

James walked with a limp, and people frequently stared inquisitively at the scar on the edge of his forehead, always glancing away when they noticed that James had caught them looking. Many coworkers thought he was shy. Others secretly and behind his back discussed the possibility that the war had left him scarred in more ways than just the wound on his head. But he was a good worker and courteous to others, simply choosing to remain alone when not working—or so it seemed. Which was fine, because the less people knew of him, the less likely it would be for someone to figure him out.

And it had proven to be true. Coworkers had stopped asking if he wanted to go out for a drink after work. He didn’t go to church, and even the town preachers had stopped wasting their time trying to save his soul. Except for his work, he was but a shadow walking down the street to wherever he lived. Nobody really knew him, and the other twenty-five people that worked with him had better things to do than learn. In truth, they didn’t think much about him because they didn’t care. Eustis James liked it that way.

Eustis James was an aspiring thief. He was employed at the new Carson City Mint in Carson City, Nevada, recently completed and churning out hundreds of thousands of silver coins. Silver dollars, half dollars, and quarter dollars were all pressed at Carson City. The US government had chosen the location because it was within spitting distance of the Comstock Lode, a rich vein of silver that kept transportation costs of raw materials low. It also made security easy, as the ore didn’t have far to travel. For a brief time, gold was also minted at Carson City, but gold bullion mostly came from California and security quickly proved to be an issue. As a preventative measure, the US Secretary of the Treasury halted gold coining into Carson City shortly after production had commenced, decreeing that gold would be minted only at the San Francisco and Philadelphia facilities.

Security inside the mint was strong. Armed guards watched everybody’s every move. Silver was meticulously and accurately weighed at every step of the process, from arrival of the crude ore, through refining and acid cleaning, to the making of ingots for planchets—coin blanks—and finally the actual pressing of coins. Everything was monitored, and any discrepancy of incoming versus outgoing bullion weight would result in a total shutdown and questioning of everybody involved.

Eustis James was going to rob the mint. He had been hired near the end of construction and had memorized every inch of the project. He calculated angles and made a mental note to check the halls for blind spots where he would be out of view of guards or coworkers. Then he had an epiphany. He had been making it harder than necessary. His plan started while the building was under construction and grew from there. It was an amazingly simple plan, but it required an accomplice. But it couldn’t be just anyone. It would need to be someone in the right position.

He studied his coworkers—assayers that weighed the metal—for months. He secretly followed them home and studied their lifestyles. Were any living beyond their means? Did any appear desperate for money? Did any of them seem mad at the world?

His job was a simple one. He collected scrap metal from the die that cut the blanks. He then returned the metal to the assay department, where it was reweighed, the total added to the weight of the finished coins. Anything missing would trigger an immediate investigation. A previous transporter thought he could beat the system and had tried to smuggle scrap gold out of the mint by hiding it between his … cheeks. It didn’t work. The weight discrepancy was immediately noticed and reported to security. He was caught in less than five minutes.

James wasn’t going to let that happen to him. He just had to find the right accomplice, and by mid-June, he knew who it would be.

Lily McDonough’s family had immigrated to the United States in 1846 when Lily was twelve years old. They lived in the slums of the Irish section of New York City, a rough-and-tumble existence. Many pretty young girls were lured into prostitution by gang bosses. Once under the thumb of the local crime boss, there was little hope of getting out of the life. The local boss was already looking at Lily as a business property, as there were always men out there that wanted to spend time with a young girl. And they frequently paid a premium for such a service. The McDonoughs were determined that this would not happen and searched frantically for a way out.

Then came 1848. Gold was discovered in California in the small town of Coloma at Sutter’s Mill. Easterners flocked to California, dreams of striking it rich coursing through their veins like the streams in California that held the gold. The McDonoughs sold their meager possessions, accumulating just enough money to get them to St. Louis. They approached the master of a wagon train and convinced him to hire Tess McDonough as a cook and Teddy McDonough as a blacksmith in exchange for transport. The wagon train leader agreed, and they headed westward, far from the slums of New York and surely on the trail to riches.

It didn’t happen. California was a rowdy, often lawless place. Towns sprung up overnight when a strike was announced and then died just as quickly when the big hit proved to be a bust. The family struggled and soon moved on to San Francisco, where jobs were a little more plentiful than they had been in New York. Teddy McDonough found work as a smithy and a stable hand. Unfortunately, he had a penchant for hard liquor, and one night after getting paid, he stopped off at a local saloon on his way home. A few drinks later, he was talking a little too loudly and bragging to anyone that would listen that he was proudly able to support his family because of the good money he was making. He flashed what was left of the wad, drawing a dozen sets of eyes to his hand and the money. He didn’t see the two men that left the saloon, and they were waiting for him outside in the shadows. As he staggered home, one of them grabbed him and yanked him into a dark alley. The second man cupped his hand over McDonough’s mouth while the first relieved him of his money. Then the second brutally shoved a knife into his chest. Teddy McDonough was dead within seconds.

Tess was brokenhearted but determined to provide for her daughter. She took odd jobs washing clothes and cooking at a soup hall. She made ends meet, keeping Lily fed and clothed, homeschooling her in math, reading, and writing. Lily was a smart girl, and by the time she was eighteen, she was teaching the older women and their children how to read and write. As for math, there was nobody in San Francisco that was better with numbers. A private school, the San Francisco Academy for Young Women, inquired if she would be interested in accepting a teaching position, and she readily agreed. She raced home to tell her mother, but when she entered the small boarding house room they shared, she found her unmoving, her eyes staring unblinking and straight ahead. In her determination to provide a proper upbringing, she had worked herself to death. Her heart had simply stopped.

The year was 1869. Lily was now thirty-five years old and had been at the school for over a decade. The headmaster was a man named Lars Garrett. He was tall, had beautiful, curly black hair, and sported a handlebar mustache that he kept perfectly waxed. He seemed very interested in her, but he was married. Lily would have none of that.

One day after classes had ended, he called her to his office to discuss the next grading session’s plan. He offered a seat across from his desk, and they began to talk. At a point, he rose from his leather chair and moved behind her, still directing the discussion about the class plan. Lily was making notes when he suddenly reached over her shoulder and grabbed her breast.

Mr. Garrett! she gasped, quickly pulling his hand from her body and standing quickly. I’ll ask you to please keep your hands to yourself!

Oh, come now, Lily. I’ve seen how you look at me, and I know you want me as badly as I want you.

You’re a married man, Mr. Garrett and I do not—I will not—take from another woman what is rightfully hers.

She turned to leave, but Garrett stepped in front of her, barring her path to the door.

Lily’s eyes were afire. I’ll ask you to kindly move aside, and then we will forget this incident has occurred.

Garrett’s eyes were ablaze as he watched her chest rise and fall, driven by adrenaline. He reached out again, this time grabbing her roughly. She turned away quickly, her dress ripping as he maintained his grasp. Spinning back, she slapped him across the face. He released his grip and she immediately yanked the door open and sprinted to the safety of the hallway and past the startled secretary that manned her station.

The next day, she showed up for work only to find her personal possessions boxed and waiting for her at the secretary’s desk.

I am sorry, Miss McDonough, but you have been relieved of your services, effective immediately.

She turned to confront the voice and saw Lars Garrett standing rigidly, arms crossed defiantly across his chest. You can’t do this!

Oh, I most certainly can. After your attempt to seduce me yesterday, we can no longer maintain a professional relationship here at the academy.

I seduced you? she screamed. You bastard. You grabbed me and then nearly ripped the dress from my body.

Really, Miss McDonough. Your lies are unbecoming and, quite frankly, defamatory. Should you continue to speak them, I will have no choice but to pursue legal action. Then he walked slowly toward her, glancing briefly at her heaving breasts, and softly spoke words that only she could hear. Besides, nobody will believe an Irish tart like you.

Her blood boiled, and for the second time in less than a day, she slapped him.

His eyes flared red, and he yelled for the secretary to call for security.

That won’t be necessary, she spat, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears.

You will never work in this city again, he growled at her, his composure gone. Or anywhere in this state, he added. And if I can find a way, I’ll make sure you never teach anywhere, period! Now get out of my school.

She soon found that Lars Garrett had long arms. The only work she could find was as a cook at a soup kitchen, and it didn’t even pay enough to keep the boarding house room. Desperate, she searched the newspaper for job postings, and she found one that piqued her attention. It was a hiring notice for the new US mint that would soon open in Carson City, Nevada. It had to be far enough away that Garrett’s tentacles could not reach, so she packed a bag with clothes and another with books and, using her remaining few dollars, purchased a train ticket for the two-hundred-mile trip to the fledging town and a new beginning.

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With her math skills, Lily McDonough had been hired immediately. She was exactly who Eustis James was looking for. He had watched her quietly as she worked numbers in her head while employed as an assistant assayer. Her job was to weigh the precious metal at every step of the production process, from raw ore to finished coin, verifying that the coins produced were of the proper weight—not too light or too heavy. She also made sure that every ounce of silver or gold was accounted for, down to just a few grams. More importantly, she assisted in bagging coins that were then locked away in the vaults. These were big safes with combination locks on the doors. And Lily knew the combinations.

She also looked mad at the world, and while attractive, the crow’s feet on her face announced the fact that she had had a rough life.

She was perfect.

Eustis approached her as she neared the small rooming house where she lived.

Miss McDonough. Hello, he greeted quietly as he came up behind her.

She turned, surprised to see her reticent coworker. Goodness, Mr. James—you startled me.

I do apologize but was hoping I might have a word with you.

Might I ask why? she asked suspiciously. They had never shared more than the occasional Good morning or Good evening.

I assure you it is nothing to be alarmed about, and I won’t trouble you for long. Perhaps we could take a short walk down the street.

She was curious to learn exactly what the reclusive man wanted to talk with her about, and as they were properly in the public, she agreed to the stroll.

If I may be permitted, I’ll be direct, he started. I have watched you at work, and there is no doubt that you are highly gifted in the art of mathematics, able to add and subtract things in your head that most would have to do longhand.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Please don’t be alarmed. I simply mean that I have observed that you are quite good at what you do. But I have a proposition that I think you might be interested in—a way to make considerably more money than what you are currently making.

Mr. James! I beg your pardon!

He felt his face redden, and he quickly clarified. No, not doing … that. I apologize. That did not come out properly. What I have in mind is far more … interesting and, quite truthfully, challenging.

Go ahead, she replied, satisfied with his apology.

I am going to propose something that could get both of us in a lot of trouble, and should you choose to alert others of what I will discuss here today, I will undoubtedly be fired and quite possibly prosecuted. I only ask that you hear me out, and should you not be interested, that you keep our discussion to ourselves, as if it never happened.

I can make no such promise, she replied.

Eustis James looked into her eyes and tried to see what was behind them. If he proceeded, the die would be cast. She could go to their superiors, and he would quickly face the consequences. Or she could join him in his plan.

He exhaled a long breath. I plan on robbing the mint, and I need your help.

Her eyes widened, and she let out a small, barely audible gasp. Mr. James …

Please hear me out. I understand that this is a shock, but I have a plan, and with your help, I believe it can be done.

She continued to stare, but he noted that she did not simply walk away.

I was part of the construction crew that built the mint. I know every piece of the outer structure, the walls, the arched ceilings, and the tile floor in the basement. I know every nook, and I have studied where the guards can and cannot see. Most importantly, I know exactly where I built a burrow-like hole just outside of the north wall. Its roof is reinforced with timbers, and there is only about a foot of dirt on top. My plan is to dig out the dirt, drop into the recess, tunnel under the outer wall, and come up inside the basement. There are vaults there. I would need three things from you.

She frowned a look of disapproval, but James continued. There was no going back now.

First, I would need you to find a way to keep one of the vaults unlocked at closing.

That would be impossible. Any time I go to the vaults, I am accompanied by a watchman—Theodore Curch. He always makes sure the vault is locked as I leave.

Eustis nodded his understanding. "However, I have noticed that Mr. Curch has, shall we call it, a great interest in you. I believe him to be totally smitten. He is subtle, as he is obviously quite shy, but when he is around you, he loses focus and becomes less efficient, his thoughts elsewhere."

She was blushing.

I would need you to find a way to use your charms to distract him from noticing the vault being left unlocked.

Oh. Lily was embarrassed and flummoxed. What exactly are you proposing? she asked.

Hopefully nothing more than flirtatious teasing. But I must be frank. This plan cannot succeed if he is not totally neutralized. At that vault, you must be willing to do whatever is necessary. That door must be left unlocked.

She said nothing, and Eustis took that as a good thing.

Secondly, I will need you to tend to the wagon and horses. I can’t leave the rig unattended on the grounds. It would appear out of place to anyone that might wander past.

"When do you propose to attempt