CHAPTER 8

The London Library was not far away, only about a 20 minute drive from the hotel. Sully had driven straight to the library from the Cazenove headquarters and parked out front. The building was small and quaint, looking like just another office building. It was on the corner of Saint James Square, and faced the park; which was full of people out and about enjoying the beautiful day and time with their family and friends. Drake was deeply envious. But there was no time to be envious of relaxation. There was no time for anything but finding out how they might be able to save Vincent.

Miranda led the way into the library and Drake found that it lived up to its incredible reputation. The library had been founded in 1841, and now came to house over one million volumes, and all of them were able to be taken out and examined at will. That was Miranda's main reason for choosing this library. They would be able to look at any book they wanted and, if they needed to, they could take any book to the hotel to examine further. They quickly found an isolated table for themselves and Miranda pulled out Vincent's notebook.

"Alright, so on the last page he wrote down what you guys said was inscribed on the sarcophagus, right?" She said, looking at Flynn and Drake for confirmation. Drake nodded his head, but Flynn thought for a moment.

"Well, it wasn't really on the sarcophagus so much as in it." He explained, trying to choose his words carefully. "It was more like where the body and sword had been, someone had come in after and carved it. At least that's what I gather."

Drake agreed with him and Miranda took a few moments to think about these new details.

"Actually, that would make more sense." She said, and turned the journal so that the others could read what Vincent had written. "Look here. He wrote the inscription and its translation. It says 'Unde Conditus. Ubi mortui iacere alto. Sequere cor'which he translated to mean 'Where it was created. Where the dead lie on high. Follow the heart'. So what does that sound like to you?"

"A load of rubbish." Flynn said, shrugging.

"They're clues." Sully said, leaning forward. "Like a scavenger hunt, right?"

"Yeah, you could call it that." Miranda said, nodding. "But these are clues to the actual clues. It's the kind of thing that a person would leave behind so that only somebody who knew what they meant could follow his or her trail. Someone like a descendant or fellow believer of a certain faith."

"So what about these? Can we figure it out?" Drake asked, looking over the clues again. Miranda nodded again, and flipped to a blank page in the journal. She wrote at the top "Where it was created".

"So, we know that what we are looking for is Crocea Mors, which was Caesar's sword. So, how did Caesar get the sword?"

Everybody at the table shrugged. A week ago they had no idea what Crocea Mors was. They were far from the experts.

"To be honest," Miranda continued "I have no idea either. So let's start at the basics. Crocea Mors is supposedly made of Corinthian Bronze." She turned to Sully and put on a very sweet smile. "Sully, darling, could you please see if they have Pliny the Elder's Naturalis Historia?" Sully smiled and stood up, placing his hand on Miranda's shoulder.

"Anything for you. I'll be right back."

Flynn and Drake looked at Miranda, who shrugged.

"You do realize that he is smart enough to figure out if you're playing him." Drake said. Miranda laughed and shook her head.

"I'm not playing him! I just tease him, and I am pretty sure he knows that." Drake shrugged and leaned back.

"Why do we need Naturalis Historia?" Flynn asked.

"Well, at the moment it is the best account we have of Corinthian Bronze. I'd like to figure out everything I can about it." Miranda explained. Just then, Sully returned with the book and laid it on the table.

"Here you go, gorgeous."

"Thank you, sweetie."

Miranda opened up the book and flipped through it, murmuring to herself. Drake, Flynn, and Sully sat patiently yet expectantly.

"Damn it." Miranda whispered, and looked up at them. "All he says is that it was formed during the destruction of Corinth. I can't assume anything from that."

Miranda laid back and ran a hand through her hair, the same way her brother did. She swore under her breath and let out a sigh.

"I have no idea what to do…"

Drake stood up and Miranda looked at him questioningly.

"Well we can't give up that easily." He said, shrugging. "They have a search database here. If I use that, I can find a book that discusses the destruction of Corinth."

Without another word, he turned and walked away. He felt a little bit of sweat run down his back as he reached the database computer and booted it up. The pressure was beginning to get to him.

I really hope I find something. It would be horrible to have gotten their hopes up then return empty handed.

Fortunately, it only took a few minutes for Drake to find a match, and he quickly wrote down the number and started searching the aisles. He was looking for Florus's Epitome of Roman History. According to the database, the destruction of Corinth was discussed in Book two, Chapter 16.

As Drake strode down the aisles he brushed his hands over the large books and read the titles. As he was walking, he saw out of the corner of his eye someone also walking down the aisle. He turned and saw that it was a man dressed in an all-black suit. The man was looking directly at him and was standing a bit close. And walking closer. Drake felt his heart rate increase and his fists clenched. The man walked closer and was almost alongside him. Drake felt every muscle tense up in anticipation.

The black-suited man reached Drake, nodded to him, and wished him a good afternoon. He then continued walking down the aisle. Drake released the tension in his body and shook his head. He was being ridiculous. Not every guy in an all-black suit was trying to kill him.

Drake found Florus's book and quickly hurried back to the table. He set down the large book and Flynn gave him an incredulous look.

"So, what, did you just grab the biggest book you could find and hoped for the best?" Flynn asked, staring at the epitome. The particular edition Drake had grabbed included all four books, and was massive.

"Eh." Drake said with a shrug. It was fun to mock Flynn by acting mysterious. Drake opened the volume and flipped to book two, running his finger down the table of contents until he found chapter 16: The Achaean War.

"I'd take notes if I were you." He said to Miranda, who gave him a mocking salute and prepared to copy down what he read.

"As though that age could only run its course by the destruction of cities, the ruin of Carthage was immediately followed by that of Corinth, the capital of Achaea, the glory of Greece, set for all men to behold between the Ionian and Aegean seas. This city, by an act unworthy of the Romans, was overwhelmed before it could be accounted in the number of their declared enemies. The cause of the war was the action of Critolaus, who used against the Romans the liberty which they themselves had granted, and insulted the Roman ambassadors, certainly by his words and perhaps also by personal violence. The task of vengeance was therefore entrusted to Metellus, who just at the time was settling matters in Macedonia. Thus the Achaean war began. First of all the consul Metellus defeated the forces of Critolaus all along the Alpheus in the wide plains of Elis. The war was thus finished by a single battle, and a siege already threatened the city itself; but — so fate decreed — though Metellus had fought the battle, Mummius interposed to reap the fruits of the victory. He completely routed the army of the other general, Diaeus, in the very neck of the Isthmus and dyed the twin harbors with blood. The city, deserted by its inhabitants, was first plundered and then destroyed at a signal given by trumpets. What a vast quantity of statues, garments and pictures was carried off, burnt, and thrown away! How great was the wealth which was plundered or burnt may be judged from the fact that we are told that all the Corinthian bronze-work, which enjoys so high a repute throughout the world, was a survival from the conflagration. For the damage inflicted on this rich city in itself caused a higher value to be placed upon Corinthian bronze, because, by the melting together of countless statues and images by the flames, brass, gold and silver ore were fused into one common mass." Drake looked at Miranda and smiled. "Got all that?"

Miranda scowled at Drake and grabbed the epitome away from him. She quickly scanned the page with her eyes and started writing in the notebook. Sully pulled out a cigar, and a librarian seemed to magically appear behind him, informing him he was not allowed to smoke in the library.

"Every goddamn time…" Sully grumbled, putting the cigar back in his pocket as Flynn laughed at him.

Drake was waiting for Miranda to finish her note-taking when he felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck and turned around. Behind them was the suited man who had passed him in the aisle. The man gave Drake a wave, and Drake awkwardly waved back. Another man in a suit joined him, and the two walked to another part of the library. Drake looked and saw another pair of similarly black suited men walking along a different aisle. There was another pair upstairs. He felt himself tense up again, and this time he couldn't shake the suspicion.

"Ok, so I think I have a pretty good understanding of this excerpt." Miranda said, and Drake turned back to her, forgetting about the men for the moment. "So, Florus references several things. The destruction of Carthage, several generals, and the formation of Corinthian Bronze." Miranda looked up at Drake and smiled. "Well done, Nate. You really made the right choice here."

"What can I say, I have a knack for these things." Drake said, shrugging.

"Alright, enough flirting, you two." Flynn cut in sarcastically. "Let's get back to the matter at hand, yes?" Miranda nodded and returned to her notes.

"So Carthage fell in 146 B.C. at the end of the Third Punic War. It was destroyed by Scipio Aemilianus. In Corinth, Mummius is the one who raided the city and actually formed the Corinthian Bronze."

"So does this answer where we can find the sword?" Sully asked.

"Kind of." Miranda said, flipping through Vincent's notebook. "We now know when and where Corinthian Bronze was formed. But we need to find out where this particular sword was forged and given to Caesar. So thanks to Vincent's research, I can go through Caesar's history and see if there is any point after 146 B.C. that Caesar was in or near Corinth."

"And what if he wasn't?" Drake asked. Miranda simply looked at him and didn't say a word. She didn't need to. If Miranda couldn't make a link with Caesar and Corinth, they would have nothing.

Miranda continued flipping through the journal and Sully went outside to smoke a cigar. Drake got up and started walking around the library to look at some of the volumes they had, leaving Flynn and Miranda at the table.

Drake was strolling down an aisle with biological reference encyclopedias and quickly turned to another one. That was just a headache waiting to happen. He kept walking and re-entered the history section. He stopped when he saw Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of America by Alexander Humboldt. He recognized the title and opened it up, reading through the table of contents. There was a chapter about El Dorado, and Drake turned to it, amusing himself by reading through the accounts of the previous explorer's theories.

A movement to the side caught Drake's attention, but nobody was there. Drake returned the book and walked down to where he had seen the movement and looked around the corner. He caught a glimpse of one of the black-suited men turning down another aisle. He turned back around and saw another man now looking at the volume Drake had been looking at. Drake turned and walked down an aisle, not surprised to see another lounging man in a black-suit. He hurried back to the table and sat down.

"Guys, I think we need to hurry up." He whispered. Miranda looked up at him with worry and Flynn looked at him in confusion.

"What's up mate?"

"I don't know. I'm just on edge. I just want to get out of here as soon as we can. Have we made progress?" Drake asked, turning to Miranda.

"So, we looked for any time that Caesar was near Corinth after 146 B.C." Miranda said, now talking nervously. "Caesar had returned in 44 B.C. to reform the destroyed city, but that's way too late because he had lost the sword in 54 B.C. Unfortunately, he had never visited Corinth before then."

"So that's it…" Drake said softly. But Miranda shook her head.

"Not exactly. My brother wrote here that Caesar had returned with the premise of rebuilding the city, but was actually looking for something. Something he never found."

"A replacement blade?" Drake asked.

"Our thoughts exactly." Flynn responded. "See, Vincent thought the same thing, but the problem is that Caesar never went to Corinth. However, Cilician pirates did." Drake eyes widened with realization.

"Julius Caesar was kidnapped by Cilician pirates in 75 B.C." He said, the pieces quickly coming together in his head. "You think the pirates had the sword?"

"Well, apparently that's what we're hoping." Miranda said with a smile. "When Caesar caught back up with them and executed them, he took all of their possessions. That would include the sword."

"So, while Caesar was with the pirates he learned the sword was forged from Corinthian Bronze? It sparks his military career, but when he loses it he goes back to Corinth so that he might be able to get a new sword. But obviously he couldn't get one. So it was just that one blade, now lost forever." Drake summarized, looking at Miranda and Flynn. "Is that it?" Miranda and Flynn nodded, and Drake paused for a moment.

"So now that we now know for sure that the sword was forged in Corinth, what about the second part? 'Where the dead lay on high'. What does that mean?" Drake asked.

"Oh that's easy, Miranda here figured it out in less than a minute." Flynn said, gesturing for Miranda to explain. She nodded and leaned forward.

"So, in Corinth there is a rather well-known acropolis by the name of 'the Acrocorinth', or 'Upper Corinth'. It has been constantly occupied since archaic times, and has been constantly built and rebuilt. It has been used as a catacomb, fort, temple, Christian church, and recently, a mosque. But the point is, it is the highest point in Corinth where many people are buried. As a matter of fact, most of the people killed during the Battle of Corinth were buried up there, so soldiers couldn't take away the bodies."

Drake thought to himself and leaned back, his mind wrapping around the situation.

"So the sword is at the Acrocorinth in the city of Corinth? In Greece?" He asked.

"Yeah, I know right?" Flynn said sarcastically. "I feel like we spend more money travelling around the world than we actually earn from the job."

"That's beside the point, Harry." Drake said. "We are getting the sword and, if we get a chance to, saving Vincent." Drake opened up his laptop and started pulling up airlines. After a few minutes, he had purchased four tickets to take them to Tripolis Airport in the city of Tripolis, 78.3 kilometers Southwest of Corinth.

"Alright, I just bought us tickets to get us to Corinth. The flight leaves tonight." He paused for a moment as he checked his email and his brow furrowed in confusion. "I have an email from van Meer…"

"What's it say?" Flynn asked, coming around behind him.

"Nothing." Drake murmured, scrolling through the email. "Just a link to a video." Drake clicked on the link and started watching the video. Both Drake and Flynn's faces turned to shock then sickness. Flynn walked away and Drake shut the laptop.

"What was it?" Miranda asked. Drake looked at Flynn, who nodded, then looked back to Miranda.

"It was a video of Vincent…" Drake said, feeling a shudder run through his body "Being tortured."

Miranda paled and Drake opened his laptop. The video was still running, and went on for several more minutes. He looked away and felt tears come to his eyes. The torture was severe and nearly unbearable.

"Nate! Look at the video." Flynn said urgently. Drake looked and saw it was no longer a video of Vincent's torture, but now of van Meer talking. He rewound the video to where van Meer first appeared, and turned on the volume.

"So, Dhr. Drake, Dhr. Flynn, and whomever else it may concern; as you can see here we are having quite a lot of fun with Dhr. Fawkes. Although I must admit, we were very disappointed to learn he did not have his journal with him. And yet, you should be very proud of him. We have been torturing him as you have seen here, for a very long time. But his will remains strong! Even now, he refuses to reveal what he has learned or where we might find the sword. Rather disappointing. We did, however, get the translation of the inscription. As of now, it means nothing. And as long as Dhr. Fawkes refuses to cooperate, I feel like we will not be able to solve the puzzle for quite some time. So, I just wanted you to see the kind of pain your friend is in. If you email us the location of the blade, we will gladly meet you there and hand you Dhr. Fawkes. However, if you do nothing, he will die. It is as simple as that, really. We will eventually find the sword's location, but out of consideration of timeliness, we need you to help us, to help your friend. You know what to do. Afscheid, Dhr. Drake and associates! I will see you soon."

The video shut down, and Drake stared at the screen. Flynn walked over and closed the computer.

"Come on, mate. Don't even bother with that." He said, lifting Drake to his feet. "You heard him, Vincent's holding up. If we get that sword, we have something to bargain with. The sooner we get it, the better." Drake nodded slowly, then with more vigor. His eyes lit up and he turned to Miranda, who was already on her feet and ready.

"Let's go." She said angrily. Drake nodded and he and Flynn turned to exit. But they had only walked a few feet when the eight men in black suits came out from the aisles and blocked their way. Drake immediately realized that his fears had been accurate, and he turned to Flynn, who had come to the same conclusion.

The men put up their hands to stop the three, but Drake and Flynn moved forward and in one fluid motion punched the men. After a few seconds of fighting, they were able to escape from the fight. Drake, Flynn, and Miranda ran towards the entrance of the library just as Sully walked in.

"What the hell?"

But before anyone could offer an explanation, the group grabbed Sully and dragged him out the door. The librarian behind the front desk yelled something, but nobody really heard what he said. The group sprinted out to the car, and Drake pushed Sully into the driver's seat.

"Who the hell are these guys?" Sully barked back, pulling the car out of its parking spot and speeding down the street.

"We have no idea. They attacked us in Vienna, but they don't work for van Meer. They might be one of his competitors or something." Drake explained, looking out the back window of the car and watching for any pursuers.

"Well what the hell do they want with us? We don't work with him anymore!" Sully yelled back, sharply turning down a tight alleyway.

"They must have lost track of van Meer and are using us to catch up with him." Flynn said, still struggling to buckle his seat belt. He finally clicked it and looked at Drake. "Mate, if they're against van Meer, shouldn't we help them?"

"They tried to kill us. Call me resentful, but I hold that against them." Drake said with a shrug. Flynn chuckled just as Sully pulled out of the alleyway, hitting the rear bumper on the ground as he sped into the street.

"Jesus, Sully, who taught you how to drive?" Drake asked, holding tightly to his seat. "I have a very good reputation with the rental car company, and would love to keep it that way." Sully slowed the car and turned to look at Drake.

"Would you rather we get gunned down by those assholes following us?" He asked, and Drake jabbed a thumb behind him.

"Excuse me Dirty Harry, but nobody has been following us."

Sully looked out the back window, shrugged, and turned back to look at the street. After half an hour of mockingly careful driving, they arrived at the hotel.


There were still a few hours before the plane left, so everybody went to their beds to sleep a bit. Drake wasn't able to sleep, however. He laid in bed staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the video of Vincent's torture. After an hour or so of naps interrupted by nightmares, Drake gave up on sleep and walked out into the main room of their suite. He wandered into the small kitchen to grab cup of water and cool down, his body drenched in sweat from his night terrors. Miranda walked out and joined him, taking a glass of water for herself. She watched him for a few minutes before finally speaking.

"I don't really understand you, Nathan. You're a treasure hunter, renown for being able to steal anything and kill anyone that gets in your way. But here you are losing sleep over a man who you've just met. I don't understand."

Drake looked at her for a moment and thought about the question. It was a very good point, and he realized that he had never spent time thinking about how he appeared to archaeologists or the general public. But his reputation was that of a greedy and violent, yet effective, treasure hunter.

"I guess my job has a stigma." He said. "I love history and archaeology, but I haven't exactly lived a privileged life. I lost a lot to get to where I am. But I learned that more valuable than any treasure is the people around you."

"Corny, but acceptable." Miranda said with a smile. Her smiles weren't crooked and boyish like Vincent's, but adorable with a hint of mischief. "When you say people around you, you're talking about Sully and Flynn, right?" Miranda asked. Drake chuckled and filled up his cup, drinking more water as he pondered.

"Well, I've known Sully since I was a kid. He really helped me out, and is also the one who pretty much 'trained' me, you could say. A greedy, perverted bastard, sure. But I love him to death. And I know that, despite what he would say, he has morals that withstand any greed. As for Flynn, well we've been through a lot together, but he's always more along for the ride. Don't get me wrong, he is my friend and I like the guy, but when I talk about Sully's morals, I feel like Flynn just doesn't have that. He'd sell anyone or anything out for a price. Even me." Drake shrugged and finished his water. Behind him, lurking in the shadows of the doorway, Flynn stood silently. Neither Drake nor Miranda had seen him walk in, and neither saw him sulk out, head down and hands shoved in his pockets.

"I like you and your brother." Drake continued, tipping his glass to Miranda. "Quite a bit actually. Hopefully this job is not the end of our friendship." He smiled and Miranda came over, wrapping her arms around him. She laid her head on his shoulder and Drake draped his arm around her.

"He's gonna be ok?" She whispered and Drake nodded slowly, feeling the burning heat of the video come back into his mind.

"He'll be fine." Drake said, trying to hide the shaking in his voice. "Maybe a little bruised, but he is a strong guy and I know he'll be fine."

Miranda leaned up and kissed him on the cheek then walked out of the room. Drake pensively sat for a moment, then wandered back into his room to start packing his clothes. The plane to Tripolis would be leaving in a little over an hour.

Authors Notes: So, how do we feel about chapter 8? Another break from the action, so not too exciting, and with a bit of sadness tossed in to make things a bit dramatic. Vincent is pretty tough, but we can't underestimate van Meer's wickedness. And poor Flynn, hopefully I am rousing a little bit of sympathy? Leave reviews for me, let me know what you think! Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and stay tuned for Chapter 9 where Drake goes back to the source of Corinthian Bronze and closer to the Crocea Mors.