Chapter 52
Indiana Jones and Deborah Matson cruised through the beautiful North Wessex countryside. Endless green meadows as far as the eye could see passed by on either side, interspersed here and there by thick glens of forest. Now and then they passed by isolated farm houses, tiny villages, and large herds of sheep.
They were making good time; already well past Newbury, although it had taken them quite some time to finally get out of London proper. After leaving the Admiralty building they had returned to the hotel to check out. Once again Deborah suggested they 'split up', with her completing check out of the hotel and gathering their things, while Jones took the Mercedes to go top off the fuel tank. Jones didn't mind though, thoroughly enjoying taking the powerful roadster for a spin.
They'd finally gotten underway shortly before ten o'clock, but it had taken nearly thirty more minutes to get through the congested London traffic and get out of the city proper. Once outside however, Deborah put the pedal to the metal and they'd pretty much made up the lost time.
Now as they sped westward the convertible top was down and the crisp early autumn air whistled in their ears, that and the sound of the powerful 5 liter engine purring at cruising RPM's negated any chance of conversation.
Jones was deep in thought. So the wild goose chase goes on, he mused. Would they ever even find the idol? It did seem like a long shot, but it was the only shot they had. What would they find there in Clevedon? Would there even be anyone at 21 Sea Road who ever even heard of Reginald Cleese? Maybe his family had sold the estate and moved on. After all Cleese had been dead for going on 15 years. Who knows? But for some reason Indiana Jones had a hunch, and he had always had a good track record with hunches. Who else could have found old man McClung? He thought, proud of himself. Yes, Jones knew when to go with his hunches, and this hunch told him to keep going; they were getting close.
Deborah leaned over towards him and shouted something.
"WHAT!?" Jones leaned his ear towards her, unable to hear.
"I'M GOING TO PULL OVER!" She shouted louder
"OK!" He responded.
Deborah pulled the vehicle over to the side of the road. "It's getting colder," she said. "Let's put the canopy back up," she opened the door and exited the vehicle. "Give me a hand."
Jones stepped out of the car and helped her maneuver the convertible canopy back up and over the cockpit of the roadster. They fastened it in place. Indeed, even though it was approaching mid-day the weather had seemed to change a bit. Not only was it noticeably cooler than when they'd left London, but there was a bit of moisture in the air as well. Perhaps they had moved through a weather front, Jones thought.
Back on the road Deborah once again put the pedal to the metal, and they resumed cruising westward on the A4. Now however it was quiet enough to carry on a conversation.
"This is beautiful country," Deborah said, gesturing with her hand.
Jones gazed out the window. "Yes indeed," he agreed. "This is the true heartland of England, some of the most beautiful countryside in the world."
Jones was in a talkative mood after the past hour or so of silent driving, and continued on. "This is a land that has been conquered many times. We're not the only ones who find it beautiful. Many others have come to covet the rich lands of England over the course of the centuries …and millennia."
Deborah kept her eyes on the road, but cocked her ear in Jones direction. "Do go on Professor Jones," she said, also eager for a diversion after the past hour of silence.
"Well," he said. "First there were the Celtic Britons, or at least they are the first known inhabitants of this land. Who knows who may have been here before them…lost to the mists of time. But then around the time of Julius Caesar came the Romans. They were fiercely resisted by the Britons for over a hundred years, but in the end I guess it was a case of 'if you can't beat them, join them'…"
"What do you mean?" Deborah asked.
"Eventually," Jones continued. "The Britons submitted to the Romans, finding it more profitable and prosperous to be a part of the Roman Empire than to go on fighting. After a time a new Roman-Briton aristocracy evolved and Rome ruled this land more or less peacefully for a few hundreds of years. But of course when the Roman Empire began to collapse they had a more and more difficult time exerting power and influence in England, being at the farthest reaches of their Empire. This created a power vacuum that was quickly filled by the Saxon invasions; the Germanic tribes."
Deboarah nodded her head to indicate she was interested and wished to hear more.
"Between about 400 to 700 AD England experienced continuous waves of immigration; some call it an invasion, of Germanic tribes from continental Europe. The Angles, Saxons, and Jutes were the most well known and successful of these tribes, but overall this period of England's history has come to be known under the umbrella name of 'the Saxon invasions' or 'the Saxon conquest'."
Jones was now in full Professorial lecture mode, but Deborah seemed to be enjoying it.
"In fact," he said. "England got its very name from the Angles. The name Angle-land eventually morphed into England. And what drew them here is just exactly what you see out the window; these rich lands. Eventually the Saxons came to dominate and displaced the Roman-Britons as the ruling class in England. But then history repeated itself as a new invader came to conquer these lands."
"Who would that be Professor?"
"The North Men, the Vikings," Jones responded, and continued his lecture. "Starting around 800 AD they wrought havoc with their continuous raids on the Saxon kingdoms of Britain as well as the kingdoms of Ireland and Scotland. Eventually though the Vikings decided that instead of just raiding the land, why not conquer it? So they did, to a large extent. What followed in the next couple of centuries was a series of Viking conquests resulting in a checkerboard mix of Saxon and Viking Kingdoms all across the land; this very land we pass through right now. Viking fought Viking, Viking fought Saxon …in some cases Viking mercenary armies were hired by Saxon kings to help Saxons fight Vikings. It was a period of great confusion."
Deborah looked over at Jones and smiled cryptically. "The strong always triumph over the weaker Indy; it's the way of nature, and the way of the world."
Jones threw her a curious look, and then continued on with his lecture.
"Of course while some Vikings, or North Men as they were sometimes called, were conquering and carving out kingdoms in England, others were doing the same in France. In France the term 'North-men' eventually morphed into 'Normans'. The Normans eventually adopted the language of France, so you had basically, French speaking Vikings I guess you could say. And just like everyone else, the Normans too coveted the rich lands of England, and so they too invaded and conquered. William the Conqueror led the Normans to victory in 1066 at the battle of Hastings, a very important and influential date in the history of England."
Deborah then spoke. "I guess the driving force behind all of these invasions was the quest for richer lands for their peoples; a need for living space."
"Lebensraum," Jones quickly responded.
"What?" Deborah looked confused.
"Lebensraum…German for 'Living Space'. It's a term that Herr Hitler uses in Mein Kampf. I read his book. It's interesting that you would use that term."
Deborah shot him an incredulous look, and then giggled. "What are you trying to say Doctor Jones?"
"Oh nothing," he said nonchalantly.
"And what are you doing reading Herr Hitler's book?" She retorted. "I've heard it's just a bunch of ranting nonsense."
"Well," Jones responded after a pause. "I guess it's best to know your enemy isn't it?"
"I suppose," she said.
"Hey, look," Jones pointed to a roadside sign coming up on the right side of the road.
AVEBURY 2 KM
"We're just 2 kilometers from Avebury," he said. "I'd really like to stop, even just for a few minutes."
"Indy we've got to keep going, we've got to stay focused on the mission."
"We've got to eat some time too," he said. "I don't know about you but I could sure use some lunch. I don't need to remind you that we skipped breakfast, and we're ahead of schedule anyway," he glanced at his watch. "It's not even 12 noon yet."
Deborah's stomach was beginning to growl too, she couldn't deny it.
"Well, alright, I could use a bite to eat too."
"Great," Jones said as they arrived into the small village. "Why don't you stop at the first pub that looks good. You can order for me. Give me just a few minutes to check out the stone circle, and then I'll join you."
"I don't know what to order for you," she said a little annoyed as she pulled the car up to the front of the 'Black Druid' pub and grill.
"I trust you," Jones said as he jumped out and began walking over towards the Neolithic ruins that had been the site of some of his most interesting graduate work.
While Deborah entered the pub, Indy left the road and walked across a very short field toward an impressive line of standing stones. The sky had grown overcast and a fine earthy smell of grassland greeted his nostrils. Jones breathed it in and reminisced about his time here so many years ago. He'd certainly enjoyed his time here in the early days of his archaeological career.
Suddenly a curious feeling came upon Jones right leg. He felt a strange sort of tingling vibration next to his right thigh.
"Hmm?" He reached down, placed his hand in his right pocket, and withdrew the object that was causing the tingling and vibration.
He held in his hand the Staurolite crystal that had been given to him some two weeks ago by Gabrielle, the Cherokee girl he'd met in Morton City Louisiana. The crystal formed an X shape. The American Indians called this type of stone a 'faerie cross' and they were said to be a very powerful charm. Jones had carried it with him ever since. Had it brought him luck? He'd had luck lately, that's for sure, but an equal share of both kinds, bad and good. Maybe the charm had brought the good luck. Who knew?
But now he stared down at the X shaped crystal with a look of awe. While he could not see any physical vibration he still felt it. The stone even felt slightly warm to the touch. He then discovered that if he turned to face away from the standing stones in the field, the vibration of the staurolite crystal subsided. Conversely when he faced toward the stones, and when he walked toward them, the vibration of the crystal increased.
"What….in the?" Jones mumbled to himself as he continued to walk toward the row of enormous standing stones in the field, holding the 'faerie cross' out in front of him.
"This is amazing….absolutely amazing…" he continued to mumble as he approached close to one of the behemoths. "But I don't understand…."
As suddenly as the vibration of the staurolite crystal had started, it stopped. Jones held it up to the stone, even touching it to the stone, but there was no reaction. He then began to walk away, but then the vibration resumed. Jones then walked along the row of stones, aiming the charm in various directions with varying degrees of change to the vibration as he walked along.
Suddenly realizing that he had spent more than the few minutes he had told Deborah, Jones replaced the crystal in his pocket and hurried over to the pub entrance. Puzzled as he was by this strange phenomenon, he would have to sort it out later.
Entering the pub, he quickly located her table and sat down.
The crystal had ceased vibrating.
Deborah looked over at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What happened out there...And what took you so long?"
Jones looked self consciously at her. "Oh, no …I'm fine," he gave a reassuring smile. "Just …reminiscing out there a little bit."
She threw him a dubious look. "Well you'd better hurry up and eat, your food's getting cold."
"What did you order?"
"House special, corned beef and mustard sandwich with chips. It's quite good actually, though this whole place kind of gives me the creeps. Let's finish eating and get back on the road."
Jones nodded as he took a bite of the sandwich. Whatever was going on with the vibrating crystal, it would have to wait; one mystery at a time.
Fascinated though he was, they did need to get back on the road. He gulped down the rest of his lunch, and they got up to leave.
