Restless Soul - Alex Archer [29]
She would have to take a bus into the nearest town to send them. Mae Hong Son was near the lodge. Chiang Mai was much larger, but farther, though it might be a better choice. She would do that as soon as possible—look for a bus, or talk Zakkarat into driving her there in his rusted Jeep.
Local authorities would have to be notified and the area protected from looters. Annja knew Zakkarat might not be able to keep quiet about the discovery and some of his tribesmen might venture out for a little looting. It was an unfortunate but common occurrence when discoveries such as this were made.
She spotted a pair of jade koi with joined, intertwined tail fins. One was pale green with wide, curious-looking eyes and the other dark with its mouth opened as if to catch an insect. There was a brown patch on the side of the pale one that was not part of the jade. Dirt? Dried blood?
“It could be blood,” she whispered. She stared at it for several moments, curious how it got there. Someone cut himself on a sharp edge? Finally, she looked elsewhere. “It could be just dirt,” she muttered.
There was a bird with a body that was slightly larger than her hand, which was probably carved from ivory, though it looked bright snow-white rather than the aged yellowish hue ivory often turned. Its wings were spread wide, each individual feather carefully rendered. It was perched on a shiny pedestal that had been carved from a piece of jet-black wood that unfortunately had been marred at the base. She took a few shots of the bird.
The flash illuminated another brown splotch. She was certain it was dried blood. She’d seen enough blood since acquiring the sword. She shuddered, finding the splotch disturbing.
How did this treasure get here? she mused. Who brought it and where did it come from? And what about the blood? Did the treasure have a violent past?
She thought of the temple they’d spotted on their walk to Tham Lod Cave. Some of the objects had a religious significance. Maybe she could show her pictures to someone there.
She took only one shot of a flat wooden box that sat on a tall crate. It was filled with thumb-size fish carved from coral. Annja gingerly moved it aside to find a slightly smaller box underneath that was filled with strings of pearls and gold and silver beads.
“The treasure of a king,” she said.
“Of two or three kings, maybe,” Luartaro added. “The treasure of an entire kingdom.” He’d silently slipped to her side, still taking pictures. “Look at that.” He gave out a low, appreciative whistle.
One of the strands alternated pearls with smooth, grape-size rubies. It was short, but there was a long one with smaller stones.
Luartaro bent to touch one, but Annja moved his hand away.
“Don’t touch anything,” she said in the tone of a museum curator scolding a visitor. “And don’t take anything.” She paused. “At least, not yet. We shouldn’t disturb a single object.”
“I’m an archaeologist, too.” He shook his head sadly. “You shouldn’t have to tell me that. I know better than to touch things. I guess I just got too caught up in all of this.”
She instantly chastised herself for moving the box with the coral fish. They were all guilty of becoming too excited by the find.
“I know that things should be studied and documented before they are moved. And you don’t have to tell me not to take anything, Annja. But tell that to our guide.” Luartaro tipped his head toward Zakkarat.
Annja looked back.
Zakkarat was still stuffing his pockets full of jewelry. He had managed to open one of the smaller crates and was raiding the contents. Inside were gold and silver incense burners, bracelets and candle holders, all padded with straw and wood shavings.
“No!” she shouted. “We take nothing, Zakkarat!”
He ignored her, dipping into the crate and pulling out a handful of bangle bracelets and a pearl necklace.
She rushed at him and grabbed his hands.
A string of chocolate-hued pearls dropped from his fingers, the strand hitting the stone, breaking