Chapter 3

Georg, Maria, and Indiana stood silently in the narthex of St. Mary's church. The priest, Father Gärtner, had said he'd gladly take them into the crypt. At the warm reception, Georg barely hid his smile at Maria's smug expression. Well, as smug as Maria could look. No sneaking around would be necessary.

Indiana looked around, impressed. "With one hundred churches in the city, you'd think some of them would be simpler," he said.

Maria dipped her fingers into a basin of holy water and crossed herself. "Every home of God should be glorious," she reasoned.

Indiana smiled at her without response. Georg followed her to the basin and repeated her blessing. "Are you familiar with church architecture, Dr. Jones?"

"From an archeological perspective, I know a thing or two," he answered, ever alert. Georg, picking up on the other's nerves, stood closer to Maria. He didn't think she fully understood the risks Indiana had implied, and the idea of her in danger made his stomach tighten.

Father Gärtner returned, gesturing for them to follow him. Like most medieval churches, St. Mary's contained a crypt, and it met Georg's expectations. The only light was provided from the lanterns and torches Father Gärtner supplied, and a strong scent of mildew permeated the air. Yet it was not a large room; it appeared to not be the length of the sanctuary above, but perhaps just the space of the altar. Only a few standing graves were placed evenly about, creating an open, if dark, space.

Father Gärtner turned to Maria. "You're a postulant at Nonnberg?" She nodded, and the priest waved. "Saint Erentrude's tomb is here."

Glancing shyly at her companions, Maria stepped forward. Georg knew she was uncomfortable with lying to the priest for their true intentions, and he followed her. Indiana remained where he was, inspecting the tomb in a way neither Georg nor Maria could. The sarcophagus was similar to all the others. Georg was grateful for Father Gärtner to indicate which was hers, although he had a suspicion Dr. Jones' knowledge of Gothic and Roman inscriptions was far above average, and they would have found it on their own easily enough.

Turning to the priest, Indiana smiled. "Thank you, Father. Will it be alright if we took a few private moments?"

Their guide nodded without hesitation, and Georg felt his own pang of guilt at deceiving him. Once alone, he walked to Indiana. "What do you plan to do?"

Without turning to him, Indiana continued to study the tomb's inscriptions. "It's been opened recently." His voice was flat, analytical.

Georg narrowed his eyes, wondering what the other could see. Maria placed her hands on the lid, saddened. "How can you tell?"

Indiana walked over to the coffin and ran his hand along the thin space between the lid and the box. "It's slightly askew here," he said, and Georg stared at the region the other was indicating. "When it was first closed, it was tightly sealed. There is a larger space on the left."

Maria walked around to investigate for herself. "When do you think it happened?"

Indiana exhaled. "Tough to tell," he answered. "Probably a few weeks ago."

"Father Gätner didn't give any indication someone else had been here," Georg said.

Indiana cast him a wry smile. "Probably because he didn't know," he said before his expression turned grim.

Maria ran her hand over the carvings on the coffin's side. "Poor Saint Erentrude," she murmured. Georg placed a hand on her shoulder. She instinctively shifted towards him, but she kept her gaze on the coffin.

Indiana looked over at her and then up to Georg. "Only one way to see…"

Maria paled, and Georg offered a sympathetic smile. "Please, Fraulein. Why don't you step over there?" He gestured to the far wall.

Indiana gave her his own assuring nod. "We'll put the lid back on properly when we're done."

Georg frowned briefly at the word we, but gently guided Maria to stand against the wall. Rubbing his hands together, he faced Indiana. "Ready?"

Indiana nodded and placed his hands upon the lid. Following his example, Georg braced for a strong push. Because of its previous defilement, the stone wasn't as hard to move as Georg had thought, but the stone still protested and crackled beneath his hands. The crumbling noise of stone against stone echoed in the tiny chamber, and Maria cast a worried look toward the stairs.

Not wanting to remove the lid completely, the two men stopped when they could fully see the coffin's occupant. Dressed in what was once fine, gold-braided cloth, Saint Erentrude's bones were grey and paper thin. Dry dust filtered upward. Indiana's eyes narrowed in concentration, and Georg blinked at the site of the skeleton. Behind him, he heard Maria's tentative steps. Against his better judgment, he stepped aside and let her see her abbey's foundress. Not sure what to expect from her, he placed his hand gently on her arm. But she had a faint smile on her face.

"Mother Erentrude." Her voice was soft, as if she was in prayer. Under his palm, she was warm and relaxed. Georg realized he'd been holding her tightly and released his grasp. She looked up at him, amazement in her eyes. He smiled back at her, enchanted by her reverence.

"She would be happy our Abbey is still here," she said.

Georg nodded. "And how faithful its members are," he replied.

"Damn," Indiana's low wrath broke the spell. He was staring at the garments, just barely touching them.

"What?" Georg said, stepping away from Maria.

"It's a fake," Indiana answered, gesturing at the tarnished bauble upon the saint's left ring finger.

They leaned in closer. "How do you know?" Maria asked.

"Its markings are not consistent with the time period," he explained.

Giving Maria an incredulous look, Georg leaned closer to the ring. "What do you mean?"

Indiana pointed to the duel eagles adorning the ring's side. "It's the Hapsburgs' coat of arms," he explained. "The earliest record of that family ruling the area is from the 12th century."

"The Abbey was founded in the 8th century," Maria added.

"Someone replaced it, and recently," Indiana declared.

Looking down at the ring, Georg frowned. "If your thieves did this, it doesn't make a lot of sense to replace one priceless artifact with another."

"Unless they didn't do it," Indiana said slowly, straightening.

"Someone else wants the ring?" Maria asked, looking overwhelmed.

Shaking his head, the side of Indiana's mouth curved upward in realization. "Someone else is protecting the ring," he theorized.

"That's conjecture," Georg said. "How could anyone know the ring was in danger?"

Dr. Jones shook his head. "I'm not sure. Perhaps people have been asking too many questions lately, and someone got nervous."

"Do you think it was Father Gärtner?" Maria asked, looking in the departed priest's direction.

"Maybe, although he didn't seem to care about leaving us alone down here. Maybe another priest hid it," Indiana answered. He walked around to the other side of the coffin. "Captain, I think Saint Erentrude has had enough excitement for the day."

They slid the lid back to its closed position, taking care to do a better job than whoever had previously left it. In the awkward movement, something flittered down to the ground and Georg's feet.

"What's that?" Indiana asked.

Georg stooped over. "It's a piece of paper," he flipped it around. "And it's not too old."

"More proof someone was down here," Maria said.

"Does it say anything?" Indiana asked, walking around.

Georg squinted in the dim light. "It's in Latin…. Archangel upon the moon's waters."

Indana looked at his companions. "Does that mean anything to either of you?"

"No," Georg mused and flipped the paper around. "There's more. After He wept."

"Who wept?" Indiana asked.

"The capital H indicates God, I guess," Georg said.

"Jesus wept when Lazarus died," Maria offered.

"Someone is being overly dramatic," Indiana said and glanced around the dark room. "I don't have time for puzzles."

Maria shook her head. "Perhaps it's a reminder to the person who moved the ring. Where they hid it."

"That could be," Indiana said.

"But why would they leave it here where anyone could find it?" Georg asked.

"Better than keeping it in their room where they could be linked to it," Maria suggested.

"And it's cryptic to simply provide a reminder, instead of a direct location," Indiana added.

"That actually makes sense," Georg said.

They were silent for a moment. "Archangel?" Maria repeated. "Which one?"

"I can't tell," Indiana answered. "The moon's waters..."

"Mondsee means moon lake. The town and lake are about 25 kilometers from here," Georg said

Indiana looked into the space before him, ideas running through his mind.

"There's a collegiate church in Mondsee. It's dedicated to St. Michael," Maria added.

"Is there a connection between the two? Saint Erentrude and the collegiate church?"

"I don't think so," Maria answered.

"It's worth a look," Indiana said, adjusting his hat. Turning to his friends, he smiled. "I thank you for your time, but I think it's best you remain here."

Georg was half-expecting Maria to protest, citing the same arguments that led them to St. Mary's crypt. But she was quiet and nodded.

"Please be careful, Dr. Jones," she said.

"Indiana," he corrected again.

Exiting the crypt, they looked around for Father Gärtner. The quiet nave made Georg suddenly anxious, and he closed the gap between him and Maria.

"Maybe he's in the rectory," Maria suggested.

They opened the doors, squinting while their eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. They barely could register their surroundings when Indiana, with unexpected speed, pushed Maria sideways, too urgent to be careful. She stumbled aside, but kept her footing. Indiana reached across his chest and released something from his belt. Georg instinctively stepped back as the professor revealed a massive bullwhip.

The Captain looked in the direction of the Indiana's sudden alarm and saw a group of four men, guns subtly drawn, waiting for them.