CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

 

 

 

Although Payne didn’t like Ulster’s ultimatum on multiple levels, he realized that Ulster was correct. If the sea was safe enough for Marissa, then it was safe enough for Ulster.

After all, how much running could they do on a yacht?

And yet, Payne didn’t want to risk going into the busy harbor in the middle of the afternoon to get him. In his mind, there were far too many boats to adequately defend themselves against possible threats, so he told Ulster to take a cab to the Corinthia Hotel where they would pick him up in the relative seclusion of St. George’s Bay.

Upon his arrival, Ulster was directed to the rear wharf by a member of the hotel staff, who also assisted with Ulster’s luggage. Unlike Payne and Jones, who hopped onto a plane with nothing but the clothes on their backs, Ulster brought more than enough bags for everyone, including two that were filled with nothing but snacks.

Despite the tension during their video call, Payne was happy to see Ulster when they pulled near shore. In fact, all of them were. There was just something about the way he carried himself that put people at ease, which was highly ironic since he was the biggest introvert of the group. Until Payne and Jones’s first trip to Küsendorf, Ulster had rarely ventured from the Archives. Every year he would force himself to attend a fancy gala or two in order to raise money for a new museum or library, but other that, he simply preferred to stay at home and work.

But their adventure across Europe—during which they had found out the truth about the crucifixion of Christ—had opened his eyes to the world around him. Although he could speak multiple languages and identify spots on the globe with nothing more than a glance, he realized he had never been to most of the places that he had lectured about. Ever since then, he had vowed to travel more often. Ulster still wasn’t racking up tons of mileage, but trips like this were becoming more and more frequent.

“Petr!” Jones shouted as he hustled off the yacht to greet his friend with a hug. “It’s great to see you in the flesh. It’s been far too long.”

Ulster grinned with delight. “I couldn’t agree more, which is why I packed my bag and hopped on the first flight to Malta.”

Jones peeked over Ulster’s shoulder and stared at his assortment of luggage. “Did you say ‘bag’—singular? How long are you planning to stay? A decade or two?”

Ulster laughed. “If that’s how long it takes, then so be it. I wanted to be prepared for all contingencies, including pedestrian meal service. That is why I asked my personal chef to pack a few of our favorite things, including those chocolate Swiss rolls that you love so much.”

“The ones that look and taste like fancy Ho Hos?”

“Those are the ones,” Ulster said with grin.

“I love those! Which bag are they in?”

“Truth be told, I don’t know. My staff did all the packing.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jones said as he patted his friend on the arm. “I was going to carry your bags anyway. Not in one trip, though. I’m not a freakin’ pachyderm.”

“Excellent Scrabble word, David. Remember it for later!”

Marissa stood back until their conversation was finished before she stepped forward. Although she had communicated with Ulster via text the day before, she hadn’t seen him in quite some time. “Petr, it’s so good to see you!”

Ulster did a double take. “Marissa, is that you? Oh my heavens, how you’ve changed! The last time I saw you, you were hiding yourself in an oversized sweater and baggy jeans. Now you’re tan, and leggy, and breathtakingly beautiful. You have blossomed like a flower, my dear, and I couldn’t be happier for you.”

Marissa put her hands to her heart and nearly started to cry. She had always wanted her father to say something like that to her, but since she knew that was never going to happen, it was nearly as good coming from a mentor like Ulster. She quickly gathered her composure and greeted him with a kiss on each cheek. “It appears I’m not the only one who has shaken up their wardrobe. You look like an explorer searching for El Dorado.”

Dressed in a white, vented shirt, beige capri pants, and a matching African safari hat, Ulster went through a series of action poses to show off his outfit. “I have to admit, I’ve been waiting to wear this ensemble for quite some time now, but somehow it didn’t feel right in the Alps.”

“Well, it certainly looks right in the Mediterranean.”

“Truth be told, I never knew men could wear capri pants until I saw them in a catalog. They looked so comfortable on the model that I decided to give them a try. And do you know what? I love them! The breeze on my calves travels straight to my toes!”

“I’m glad to hear it!”

“And look at your dress! I love that shade of red on you. Unfortunately, I can no longer wear red because it makes me look like Father Christmas, but on you, it looks enchanting.”

“Stop it!” she said as she touched his cheek. “You look great, and your beard makes you look distinguished. Just like the world’s best historian should.”

“Well, thank you for saying so, my dear. It’s been quite a while since a beautiful woman complimented a part of me besides my brain, so feel free to keep the flattery coming!”

She laughed and took his arm in hers. “Are you ready to come aboard?”

“I certainly am,” Ulster said as he glanced around. “But where’s Jonathon?”

Jones heard the question as he walked past Ulster on his way back to grab more of Ulster’s luggage. “Jon’s on watch and Jarkko’s at the helm until we’re back at sea. We don’t want to take any chances with such precious cargo.”

Ulster laughed. “My luggage isn’t that expensive. Granted, the collection did set me back several Swiss francs on my last trip to Zurich. Or should I say Winston’s last trip to Zurich, because as both of you know, I’m not the type to go on shopping sprees. Instead, I look in catalogs or go online from the comfort of my office, and then I send Winston in the helicopter to fetch whatever I desire. In my opinion, everyone should be doing that. It saves so much time.”

“Great tip,” Jones said with a grin. “Now that I’m rich, I may have to hire a white guy to do all of my chores. Just like you do.”

Ulster nodded. “I highly recommend it.”

“But just so you know, when I mentioned ‘precious cargo’, I wasn’t referring to your luggage. I was talking about you and Marissa. On our way back to shore, Jon lectured my ass on the importance of keeping you two safe. I’m not quite sure what you said to him, Petr, but it sure riled him up. The last time I saw him like this was…well, it was last night with Marissa.”

“Oh dear,” Ulster groaned. “I was afraid of that. I think I was a tad too aggressive during my plea to join the team. It had started off as a humble request to help you on your journey, but when I heard about the incident at the library, I’m afraid my parental instincts kicked in and I became so worried about you—” He glanced at Marissa and held her arm tighter. “That I might have issued an ultimatum. I told him if he didn’t let me keep an eye on you—whether on the yacht or on the shore—then I would no longer accept his calls.”

“Wow,” Jones said, completely shocked by Ulster’s atypical behavior. “Now I know why Jon was so cranky. He doesn’t do well with demands or threats. Obviously you mean the world to us, and you’ve built up a lot of goodwill with Jon over the years, so I think you’re in the clear. But if you had been a stranger, that gambit of yours would have blown up in your face—followed, quite possibly, by a fist.”

“Petr,” Marissa said as she stared at her mentor. “I appreciate your instinct to take care of me, but I’m a grown woman now who can make her own decisions. For you to risk your friendship with Jonathon over my wellbeing was incredibly shortsighted and foolhardy. However, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, I do appreciate the gesture.”

Ulster smiled. “You’re welcome, my dear.”

Jones stared at the luggage that remained on the pier. “And since you’re a grown woman, I think it’s only fair to treat you as my equal. So stop yapping with Petr and help me with his bags, or else we’re going to be here until sundown.”

“Sorry, DJ, I can’t,” she said with a laugh. “You heard Jon. I’m ‘precious cargo’. The last thing he would want is for me to break a nail.”

“The same with moi,” Ulster said with a chuckle. “Besides, I need to speak to Jonathon to make amends before he sends a fist in my direction. Although my beard and chins would certainly soften the blow, I get the sense I would fall quicker than the Knights to Napoleon.”

“Ha!” Jones said. “Some expert you are. They threw that fight on purpose.”

Ulster frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Long story,” Marissa said as they turned to board the yacht. “I’ll fill you in on everything. Needless to say, it’s been an interesting twenty-four hours.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jones shouted. “I’m used to doing shit like this. Just another brother carrying bags for the man. The least you could do is give me a tip.”

Ulster stopped and turned back toward Jones. “Oh my goodness! How foolish of me! I can’t believe myself sometimes!”

Jones quickly changed his tune. “Petr, I was joking. I’m happy to grab your stuff. And the only tip I need are those chocolate Swiss rolls of yours.”

Ulster shook his head as he walked closer. “Relax, David. I know how you like to tease. That’s not why I came back. The gentleman who brought my bags to the dock asked me to give you a message before we departed, and I nearly forgot to pass it along.”

“What kind of message?” Jones asked.

“I’m assuming it’s some kind of code, so I wrote it down just to be safe.” He reached into his shirt pocket and fished out his reading glasses. “Nice fellow, but rather intense. Maybe even a bit star struck. I’ve been called numerous things during my life—historian, archivist, professor, humanitarian, even philanthropist—but this was the first time someone called me an oracle.”

“Oh crap,” Jones muttered. “That’s bad.”

“Not at all!” Ulster assured him. “In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Although most people think of oracles as priests or priestesses who acted as mediums for the gods in classical antiquity, the modern definition of the word is someone who is regarded as an infallible authority of a particular subject. Obviously this gentleman is a fan of my work as a historian and was merely bestowing upon me the respect that he felt I deserved. As hard as this is to believe, did you know that the word ‘oracle’ actually derives from the Latin word—”

Jones cut him off. “What’s the message?”

“Ah, yes! The message! I almost did it again, chatting on and on about ancient things when my attention should be focused on the world in front of—”

“Petr!” Jones said, growing concerned. “The message!”

“My apologies!” he said as he pulled out the slip of paper and read it to Jones. “Here’s what he wanted me to say: We have the tiger. Dead or alive?”

“On the boat!” Jones shouted. “Everyone on the boat now!”