Chapter 15
Weekends were a tricky thing for the expedition crew.
Muslim country that it was, Turkey observed Friday and Saturday as their version of the Sabbath.
The crew had several staunch members of the church—one church or another, anyway—and took offense at the notion of working on Sunday as per the customs of the country.
This left Dr. Henry in a conundrum, one he resolved by declaring the crew would decide individually which days would be their weekend, Friday and Saturday, or Saturday and Sunday.
Whichever day other than Saturday would be considered a half day.
The working part of the day would be devoted to writing up reports and attending to administrative duties, and the rest was left up to the crew member.
Saffron and Alexander had claimed Fridays and Saturdays as their weekend to maximize their time in the agora.
Saffron’s first weekend had been spent documenting her work, catching up on correspondence, and resting.
This weekend, however, would be spent with Alexander, apparently, and she couldn’t wait.
After the uproar the graffitied stone had caused, and the subsequent mania to find more marked stones, she was glad to be finished at the agora for a few days.
He’d told her to dress comfortably for walking, which Saffron took to mean she ought to wear her low boots rather than her work boots or the heels she wore in the evenings. She donned a lightweight dress of cheerful blue cotton and a broad-brimmed hat, and she was ready to go.
Excitement bubbled inside her as she descended the stairs.
They would explore the city, she guessed.
It would be quiet, with many residents observing their holy day.
The doors in the lobby were thrown open as usual to encourage a breeze, and Saffron spotted one of the government motorcars that ferried them up and down the mountain to the agora.
A daydream overtook her, of her and Alexander venturing off along the coast, alone with the sun and fresh air and nature. More particularly, alone.
Her mind strayed to the things Elizabeth had stashed in her trunk, only to be brought back to the lobby, which was suddenly flooded with people.
Crew members emerged from the parlor, faces ranging from annoyed to buoyant.
She’d missed a meeting, it seemed.
Alexander emerged from the room alongside Templeton. Templeton looked fit to burst with excitement, while Alexander’s expression was neutral. He caught sight of her and left Templeton mid-sentence.
“Change of plans,” he told her, taking her by the elbow and guiding her back to the stairs.
“What’s happened?”
Alexander glanced to either side and apparently satisfied none of the crew would hear him, muttered, “Henry is packing us all off to the castle ruins on Mount Pagos.”
Saffron blinked. “What? Now?”
“Yes.” He took her arm in his and walked her up the stairs, still speaking low. “There is concern over the location of certain items.”
“Certain—? Ah, yes,” Saffron said, catching on. Alexander had mentioned a coin had gone missing. “Certain items, plural?”
He nodded grimly. “The coin depicting Zeus battling Athena, and the fragment of the bracelet. Hayrettin seems to have noticed something is amiss. Henry wants our rooms cleared out so he can search them.”
Saffron stumbled on a stair, and he caught her before she fell. “He’s going to search our rooms?”
“Yes. So be sure to pack anything you don’t want him or the Turkish officials to see. We’ll be camping out at Kadifekale tonight, possibly tomorrow evening, too.”
They came to a stop outside Saffron’s room. On the upper levels, men opened and slammed doors and called to one another.
“What if he doesn’t find anything?” she asked.
Alexander shrugged, looking pensive. “I almost hope he doesn’t. I hate to think anyone on the crew would steal something from the site.”
She didn’t get along with many of the crew, but they were all scholars.
Was it na?ve to assume they had respect and enthusiasm for their expedition’s goals, or respect for their hosts?
Just then, Clark clambered down the stairs.
He paused at the landing, taking in Saffron and Alexander standing close together just outside her bedroom door.
With an unpleasant smile, he winked and disappeared down the stairs.
Yes, she decided, glaring after him, it was na?ve to assume some people had any respect at all.
Saffron had never known a more perfect day.
The bay was a glittering sapphire embraced by golden mountains patinaed with muted green.
The city seemed so far below, though the castle ruins were only half a mile or so away from the agora.
The fire-scorched buildings along the northern portion of the bay were harder to make out from here.
A breeze coasted over her heated skin, fluttering the silk scarf around her neck. It was like suspended bliss, standing atop the tower. She could almost imagine there was no dusty, tense camp waiting for her below.
She was in no hurry to return. Dr. Henry’s announcement had launched the crew into a frenzy of preparations, complaints, and excitement.
The process of moving the entire group from the hotel to the campsite atop Mount Pagos had been chaotic, but Dr. Henry brooked no argument.
He was back to his domineering ways, ordering everyone to pack and load up the motorcars within the hour, then to erect the tents and construct camp in an equally unreasonable amount of time.
Then, he sent them all off to “work,” without any more instruction than that, despite the fact that the majority of the party had no relevant research to do at Kadifekale.
Had Saffron not been aware of the need to search for the missing artifacts, she would have been quite put out.
Even with that knowledge and the incredible view spread out before her, she was rather put out. At the very least, if her plans with Alexander had been interrupted, she would have hoped he’d come and explore the ruins with her.
But no, it was Martin Neill who huffed after her as she’d climbed to the tallest point of the mountain and up the only remaining tower to look out over the city and the bay.
It was Martin watching her warily from the ground, clearly biting his tongue on an admonition to be careful.
The Turkish guides—or the ones who could be persuaded to join the crew at Kadifekale—had warned them the third century ruins were not well looked after, and they made no promises of the crew’s safety on them.
That wasn’t going to stop Saffron from having a good look around.
“You ought to come take a look,” Saffron called down to Martin.
He squinted up at her. “I’m not so sure—”
“It is perfectly stable.” He’d watched her climb the weathered, makeshift steps someone had constructed to get to the tower, and not the one had slipped.
“Er—”
“Martin,” she said sternly. “Are you truly going to spend the entire time at Kadifekale worried rocks are going to fall down around you? You’ll miss everything if you don’t—”
But he was climbing up to the tower now. She grinned.
“Oh my.” His smile was tremulous, but his large, dark eyes sparkled as he took in the view. “It is quite something, isn’t it?”
They stood atop the tower, looking out on the city and the bay. After being ignored on more than one occasion, it seemed Martin had at last learned there was no need to fill every silence with chatter.
“Thank you,” he said quietly some minutes later.
“For bullying you to climb up here?”
The rosy flush on his cheeks intensified as Martin looked down at his feet. “For putting up with me. I know Mr. Ashton finds me a burden more than an asset. He only stuck me with you because you’d be nice to me.”
Surprised, Saffron began to deny his unfortunately correct assumption, but they were hailed by a voice from below. They both peered over the edge of the tower—tricky, as there were only sporadic crenellations at knee-height to keep them toppling over.
“I do beg your pardon,” Clark called. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Not at all, Mr. Clark,” Martin replied, unaware of Clark’s syrupy tone. “It’s quite an extraordinary view up here. You ought to come up—” He put his hand on top of one of the crenellations, and the whole thing rocked to the side.
Saffron grabbed Martin by the arm, and they tumbled backward. Her hip hit the stone platform and she let out a grunt at the impact.
“Miss Everleigh!” Martin cried, and rolled to his knees, hands raised as if he’d examine her for injuries.
She rushed to her feet to show it was unnecessary. “I’m fine. We must report that to the guides immediately, it’s terribly dangerous!”
They made their way down the steps—more carefully, now Saffron had been proven wrong about how sound the construction truly was—and found Clark and Wakefield lurking under the shade of one of the skinny-trunked pines in the vacant, rocky perimeter of the ruins.
“Watch out for loose bits up there,” Martin told them earnestly. “We’re going to tell the others now. You could fall to your death if you’re not careful!”
“Thank you, Mr. Neill.” Clark nodded to him solemnly and then ruined it by winking at Saffron. “You two be careful, now.”