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Cosenza, Italy
The Alaric Museum sat atop a small hill in the midst of Consenza, a city nestled in a lush, green valley between the Sila plateau and the coastal mountains of southwestern Italy. Formerly called Cosentia, the town was reputed to be the burial site of Alaric.
Maddock pulled their rented Renault into a marked stall in the parking lot and he and Bones exited the vehicle. They had left Matt, Willis, and Corey on the boat to continue diving the artifact site in the hopes of finding more treasure, as well as to safeguard the site from the curious who may have observed their activity. In the meantime, Maddock was hoping he and Bones might be able to shed some light on the history of the relics they had recovered so far with a little professional help from a local expert. This approach had proven worthwhile on occasion, and so he figured it was worth the relatively short trip from the dive site to the museum. Diving for treasure was seventy-five percent research, twenty-five percent hard work, and ten percent luck, he’d heard it said, reminding him they needed to give the proverbial one hundred ten percent to be successful on this outing.
He could tell by the number of cars in the lot that the place was not crowded at the moment, a small miracle they were grateful for. The building was a sprawling one-story affair with white stucco walls and well-manicured gardens. Maddock and Bones walked along a path of paver stones bordered by freshly cut grass until they reached the main entrance, which was little more than a front door propped all the way open. Inside they could see ceiling fans spinning and hear a couple of people engaged in casual conversation.
“Cosenza,” Bones said. “You know what that makes me think of?”
“Of course I do. He always wanted to visit here.”
Marco Cosenza, nicknamed “Coach,” was an old friend of Maddock’s father, and had also been Maddock’s little league baseball coach. What was more, he was the original owner of Maddock’s boat, Sea Foam.
“We’ll raise a glass to him later,” Bones said as they approached the entrance.
They passed through the doorway. There was no one taking money for admission, but a clay amphora stood on a table next to a sign in multiple languages reading, DONATIONS WELCOME.
“You got the admission covered, boss?” Bones asked, not breaking his stride as he passed the sign. Maddock stopped, fished a few bills out of his pocket and dropped them into the old-looking jar, which he guessed was probably a replica. This main room was larger than they would have guessed by looking at the outside. Many interesting artifacts were on display around the room, including ancient boats reconstructed from their original, salvaged timbers, multiple rows of earthen pots and many more amphora and cooking utensils. Complementing these mostly wood and clay items was an array of metal weapons including swords, daggers, shields, and crude armor.
Maddock and Bones had stopped in front of a glass case containing an assortment of spears when they were approached by an attractive woman with big brown eyes and long, glossy, black hair which she wore in a ponytail. She smiled warmly and extended an arm, shaking hands first with Bones, who had somehow seen her coming and positioned himself accordingly, and then Maddock.
“Hello, I am Adelina Franco, Director of the Alaric Museum,” she said in accented English. “Call me Lina, please.”
“Hi Lina, call me Bones. Or, you can just call me.”
Maddock rolled his eyes while the tall Cherokee flashed his most winning smile.
“And your friend here?” Lina asked, turning toward Maddock.
“Dane Maddock, very pleased to meet you. Looks like a wonderfully interesting museum you have here.”
A sad smile flitted across Lina’s face. “Thank you. Not everyone feels that way.”
“Why not?” Maddock asked.
“A museum dedicated to a man who sacked Rome is viewed as heresy by many. Some went so far as to compare it to a museum devoted to Hitler.” She made a face. “That’s a bit extreme.”
“Alaric is tied firmly to Cosenza’s history,” Maddock said. “I don’t see how he could be ignored.”
Lina nodded. “Thankfully, most people agree with you.” She waved an arm around at the room’s artifacts and treasures. “Feel free to walk around for as long as you like and really enjoy yourself. I just wanted to let you know I was here in case you had any questions.” She checked her wristwatch. “We do have a docent who conducts general tours, but I’m afraid the next one doesn’t begin for almost an hour.”
Bones feigned a sad expression. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to spend a little quality time with you, then. My understanding of the period is pretty thorough, you see, but I’m sure if you and I got together we could, you know, fill each other’s gaps.”
Maddock cleared his throat loudly and gave Bones a long, level look. “What my friend here is trying to say,” he said, making eye contact with the museum director, “is that we do in fact have some specific questions we were hoping an expert such as yourself might be able to shed some light on.”
Lina raised an eyebrow and glanced at Bones, clearly wondering where this was going. Maddock pulled one of the flat metal falcons from his jacket pocket while nodding to Bones, who produced the dagger, holding it by the end of the blade and offering it to Lina, golden handle first. Maddock couldn’t help but smile a little as her mouth dropped open upon holding first the dagger, and then a little more after Maddock handed her the falcon. She inspected the items, turning them over in her hands, brow furrowed, before tearing her gaze away from the recovered artifacts to look at Maddock and Bones.
“Where did you get these?” She quickly looked around at the rest of the museum, whether to make sure no one else required assistance, or to make sure no one was observing them, Maddock wasn’t sure. He nodded at the artifacts.
“We were on a dive, in international waters.” Maddock made sure to add that important, detail before continuing, lest she accuse them of pillaging national treasures. The truth was, they’d been skirting the edge of international waters. He believed his team was in the clear, but she might not feel the same way. “We found these items along with a few coins. We were wondering if they could possibly be from Alaric’s lost fleet?”
There it was, he thought, his hopes and dreams laid out on the table to either be dashed or to have something made from them. He didn’t have long to wait in order to find out. Lina slowly tore her gaze from the finds.
“I believe so.” Her voice carried a dazed, bewildered tone. “In fact, I’m almost certain of it. I’m not sure how much you know about the history of it, but when Alaric and his Visigoths sacked Rome, they not only raided the public buildings, but private homes of the wealthy, too. A dagger that belonged to the Roman Emperor of the day would have been a great prize for Alaric, and legends hold that he helped himself to some of Flavius’s belongings in order to shame him.”
“Spoils of war,” Bones said, admiring the artifacts in a new light.
Lina nodded. “What else did you find besides these and coins?”
Bones looked to Maddock, who hesitated before looking at Lina. “We also found a jeweled cross and a gold scarab.”
Lina’s eyes seemed to sparkle with intensity. “Wow,” she said in a hushed voice, almost to herself before lapsing off into thought.
“Wow what?” Bones prompted.
Lina snapped out of it. “Now I’m even more convinced than ever that Alaric’s treasure is real.”
“Alaric’s treasure?” He looked to Maddock for a second, then back to Lina. “What treasure is that?”
Lina inclined her head toward one of the nearby exhibits.
“Come, let’s walk.” Maddock and Bones followed her into the museum proper. As they browsed the displays and took in the sights, Lina told the story.
“The basic story goes something like this. Alaric was the first king of the Visigoths. Prior to becoming king, he was involved in many conflicts, sometimes on the side of the Romans, sometimes in opposition to them. In the year 394 he led a Gothic force of over twenty thousand at the battle of Frigidus, where he and his men played a crucial role in assisting Theodosius, the Eastern Roman Emperor, defeat the Frankish usurper, Arbogast.”
“Arbogast? Wasn’t he a wizard in those Hobbit movies?” Bones asked.
Maddock frowned. “I thought you said Tolkien books and films are for geeks.”
“They are. I just watch the movies so I can find new things to mess with you about.”
Maddock rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Lina.
“Please go on.”
Lina grinned. “Alaric felt the emperor did not give him his due recognition for the role he played in the victory. He left the Roman army and was chosen as the “reiks” of the Visigoths, loosely translated as king. In the year 408, Emperor Flavius Honorius executed one of his most important generals and incited Romans to murder tens of thousands of the wives and children of Goths serving in the Roman military. This led the Gothic soldiers to defect to Alaric’s army and prompted Alaric to march on Rome to avenge the Goth’s murdered families.”
“So he wasn’t completely the bad guy in all this,” Bones said.
Lina shrugged. “I suppose it all depends on perspective. History is often like that.”
“What happened next?” Bones asked.
“They ravaged the countryside, and sacked several cities before laying siege to Rome. He eventually forced the Roman senate to free all forty thousand Gothic slaves in Rome. As was the norm at that time, alliances shifted, more conflicts broke out, and he besieged Rome again in 409 and in 410.”
“That was when he finally broke through,” Maddock said.
Lina nodded. “Allies within Rome open the gates for him and he and his forces spent three days sacking the city. By all accounts, they treated the population humanely, and only burned a few buildings. Churches were spared, along with the people who took refuge within their walls. They even refused to take privately owned treasures that Alaric felt had religious significance, and therefore ‘belonged to Saint Peter.’”
Bones scratched his chin. “How did he and the treasure come to Consenza? If he was taking it home, he went in the wrong direction.”
“He planned to conquer Corsica and then move on to invade Africa, but a storm destroyed most of his fleet. Before he and his remaining forces could head north, Alaric took ill and died here on the coast. Most researchers believe that his body, along with his horse and the fabulous hoard of treasure, was buried with the hoard inside a stone vault at the confluence of the Crati and Busento rivers – a spot which now lies in the heart of Cosenza. Up to eight meters below ground. The river was diverted while the vault was dug, then returned to its natural course. Afterward, the workers were executed in order to preserve the secret.”
Lina paused to give her audience of two a chance to ask questions, but Maddock and Bones both appeared to be in deep thought. “People have been searching for the treasure for years but have yet to find it.”
At this Bones put on a frown. “Couldn’t the treasure be at the bottom of the ocean where we found the shipwreck remains and the artifacts?” He nodded to the falcon and the dagger, still in her hands, but Lina shook her head.
“No. He wouldn’t have carried the treasure along to Africa. It would have been a needless risk.”
“That makes sense. So the treasure probably is still around here somewhere,” Bones mused.
Lina cleared her throat, shifted uncomfortably. “I know this is not what you want to hear, but please, do not search for the Alaric treasure. I can’t really explain, but things are difficult right now.” She left it at that.
“You don’t need to worry about us,” Maddock said, choosing his words carefully.
She shook his hand and then Bones’ before the two men left the museum.