The Eye of Shiva

CHAPTER 52

In the morning, Afridi set his men to work moving rocks. It was tedious, hard labor. After several hours had passed, Afridi was beginning to doubt there was more to find. Then one of the men shouted. He pointed at a large, yellowed bone in the debris. They found more bones and the remains of a wooden pack cradle, still tacked with rotted bits of leather. Then an iron box about a foot square.

Afridi stood next to Sayeed, looking down at the box. His men gathered around him, waiting. A rusted lock held the top shut with a metal clasp. Afridi broke the lock away with the butt of his rifle. He lifted the lid.

A collective gasp came from the men. The chest was filled with jewels that shone with brilliant colors in the bright morning sun.

Sayeed sucked in his breath at the sight of so much wealth.

"God is Great," he said.

"Allah has blessed our cause," Afridi said. He looked at the sky. "Come, brothers, we must pray and give thanks."

After the prayer, Afridi picked up the chest with the jewels and took it over to one of the trucks while the men continued digging. He sat on the worn seat in the cab and looked through the gems. Sunlight poured through the windshield onto the stones. Afridi had never seen such beauty. Diamonds. Sapphires as large as bird eggs. Stones of yellow, red, green and blue, rough cut and polished. At the bottom of the chest, buried under smaller stones, something glowed blood red. Afridi reached in and grasped it and took out a ruby so big he could barely get his fingers around it. It was as big as his palm, heavy in his hand. It swirled with color as it caught the rays of the sun, changing from a fiery glow to a deep red and back again.

A jewel for a king, he thought. Or a caliph.

In the next few hours they found the remains of two more beasts and six more of the iron chests. Two of the chests had broken open where they'd fallen and spilled hundreds of gold coins under the stones. Three other chests held shaped pieces of reddish gold set with precious stones.

Afridi held one of the heavy pieces in his hands and hefted it. From the Peacock Throne, he thought. Enough gold to build an army.

He kept the men working for the rest of the day but they found nothing more. Afridi called a halt to the digging. It was enough. It would soon be dark and the road was dangerous at night, plagued by bandits. Afridi decided to leave early the next morning. He called the men to him.

Afridi went to each man and gave him ten gold coins. It was more wealth than any of them had ever seen or could hope to earn in three lifetimes. One coin would feed a family for a year or more, a village for many months. Any man would be tempted by such riches as they'd found. Afridi knew that a man who had riches was much less likely to give in to temptation.

"God has said to be generous and to reward the worthy," Afridi said. "You are faithful men and you have earned this gift. We will take the rest and use it to bring death upon the infidels."

His fighters shouted and brandished their rifles. "Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!"

"Park the trucks facing out. Man the guns and post sentries," Afridi said to Sayeed. "Then we eat."

"The men have worked hard," Sayeed said. "Hot food would be good and the night is cold."

Afridi nodded. "Build a fire under that ledge." He pointed toward a nearby rocky overhang. "Not a big one."

Sayeed said, "Do you expect trouble?".

"Always. I don't think the tribesmen will do anything, not against those guns. If they were, we'd already know. I worry more about the American satellites."

An hour later the camp was settled for the night. The men not standing guard sat around the small fire. The flames cast shadows and light against the canyon wall. The heat of the day faded and the temperature plummeted. Overhead, the sky was deep black and filled with stars.

Afridi wrapped himself in his cloak and lay down on the hard earth, his rifle beside him. Once, when he was younger, the ground would have felt almost as soft as a bed, a place just to rest. But he was older now. It was a long time before he drifted into an uneasy doze.

The sound of helicopter rotors drawing near woke him.

Instantly, he was up and shouting. He grabbed his AK.

"Wake up! Wake up!"

The rotors became a roar overhead. The canyon floor flooded with bright, white light. Clouds of dust rose from the beating blades as a half dozen men dressed in black dropped on long lines into the clearing.

Afridi raised his rifle and shot one of the dangling figures. The man fell from the line and hit the ground. A burst from one of his comrades slammed into Afridi's chest, knocking him to the ground. He was aware of pain. He couldn't breathe. He heard the rapid tacktacktack of automatic weapons, the screams of men dying, the indifferent beat of the helicopter blades. His last thought was of the giant, blood red stone he'd found among the jewels.