The Hall of the Mountain Kings

By Victoria Oldham, update 28 February 2008

     Blaine Vezick sat hunched over her desk, glasses perched on the end of her long, slim nose, her forehead creased in concentration. In red pen she circled yet another incorrect answer on a student mid-term. With a sigh of frustration, she sat back and stretched long, muscular arms above her head.

     Not for the first time, she thought she should have remained in the field. Her research from around the globe had been instrumental to current theories of lost civilizations and the interpretation of artifacts. Her work on the Incan Pyramids determined how they chose people for sacrifice, and when she had turned up with an ancient statue of the sun god Inti, it gave credence to the idea that the culture worshipped nature in a way similar to other South American cultures, tying them together in history.

     But then, when she had found herself caught between Guerillas and the para-military in Mozambique while searching for King Monomotapa’s gold, she had made the decision to get a desk job. Only luck and some sweet-talking had gotten her back to the states in one piece, even if she was a bit wealthier than when she had left. And, in her seven years as Department Head and Professor of Mythology and Classics at Bridgestone University in Boston, she enjoyed giving lectures on Homer and Ovid, Virgil, Sapho, and the sociological aspects of the their respective cultures. There was, though, a nagging part of her still yearning for the excitement of new discovery and the thrill of throwing herself into the unknown. Somehow, grading student midterms just didn’t fill the hole.

     “You shouldn’t frown like that. You know it gives you headaches.” Blaine’s assistant Sheila Baker swept in to the office with a steaming latte and blueberry scone. Setting them carefully on the desk, she plopped down in the over-stuffed chair and peeled a banana.

     “I don’t know how you can eat those things. They’re so slimy and mushy,” Blaine said, grimacing as her cute assistant slurped the disgusting yellow fruit.

     “And I say it’s no wonder you get leg cramps,” Sheila retorted, taking a large bite and smiling through the mush in her mouth, making Blaine shudder.

     “So, what’s on the plate today, Doc? Do you want me to finish grading the papers? Or make copies of the handouts for tomorrow’s class?” Sheila asked, and Blaine watched as she folded the peel neatly into a napkin, compulsive as always. It was one of the traits Blaine loved about her long time assistant. Without Sheila’s exactitude, Blaine would never make it anywhere on time, or be able to find any of the paperwork she tended to just throw in piles. Piles Sheila took the time to file.

     Sipping her latte, perfectly made with two shots of espresso and two packets of Splenda, Brenda shook her head.

     “No. Actually, I need you to do some research for me. I’ve been invited to Heidelberg University by Professor Linda Sykes to help out on a project in India. I need you to pull up information on Skeleton Lake in the Himalayas. Include all the historical information you can find, as well as weather conditions and possible routes to the lake itself.”

     Nodding, Sheila reached slowly across the professor’s desk, the low cut of her top dipping to reveal considerable cleavage. Blaine shook her head and grinned.

     “Stop that.”

     “Hey, a girl can try. Besides, I need to write this stuff down. Pen?” Shiela grinned while twisting her torso toward her boss, and Blaine sighed good naturedly while studiously avoiding looking at the smooth skin and lacy black bra showing over the top of her assistants v-neck.

     “As tempting as it is, Sheila, you know you couldn’t handle all this.” Blaine motioned at her own lithe physique with a grin. Her lifestyle was not conducive to relationships, and for the most part she was happy with that. Work entanglements were something she avoided at all costs. Enjoying the temporary company of women from an occasional night out at the local women’s bar, Pink, suited her just fine, even if, lately, she had begun to feel the lack of someone to share her adventures and interests with. She figured the feeling was kind of like the beginning of a tooth ache—she knew it was coming, but she could deal with it later, when it really started to fester.

     “Okay, anything else you need researched?” Sheila smiled sweetly, bluntly ignoring Blaine’s assertion, as she always did.

     “Hmm. Yeah. Find out what you can about Linda Sykes as well. I’ve met her twice, but both times it was while surrounded by other professors attending the Feminist Perspectives on Classical Literature Conference, and I didn’t really have a chance to get to know her. Although I certainly would have liked to.” Blaine grinned and raised her eyebrows, picturing the attractive German professor at last years conference in England wearing a low cut crimson blouse and tight black slacks and sitting properly in the Lesbianism in Mythology symposium, her back straight and legs crossed at the ankle. Blaine decided that it would take a stronger woman than herself to forget that kind of body and poise.

     Sheila rolled her eyes and nodded, bouncing out of the room with her little blonde ponytail swinging in time to her nicely shaped hips, which she gave an extra wiggle before she passed out of sight, knowing full well her bosses eyes were glued to her posterior. Even though they played like this often, neither would ever want to risk the friendship they had developed over the years, one they both valued more than any roll in the sack.

     With a long suffering sigh, Blaine ran a hand through her short cropped brown hair, rubbed her midnight blue eyes with the back of her hand, and then picked up the red pen once more, determined to finish grading the papers.

***

     Blaine stretched tight back muscles while waiting for her baggage. Damn, she hated flying. It wasn’t a fear of heights, or a loss of control that frightened her. It was a fear of falling for a long, long time with only one possible result at the end. Strangely, she didn’t feel that way about helicopters or skydiving, or any of the other ways she had previously soared through the air. She hated being trapped, and found that even elevators made her sweat occasionally, especially if they were crowded. One of her recurring nightmares was being trapped in a falling elevator, one that fell any which way but straight down.

     During the long flight from New York to Düsseldorf, she had read all the research Sheila had grudgingly provided for her on Skeleton Lake, as well as a large portion of the book by Dr. Sykes. Her assistant was clearly a bit put out by her boss once again taking off on some adventure, even though she seemed quite happy with the thought of Claire Thompson, lesbian-with-a-reputation, taking over a few of Blaine’s classes while she was gone. It wasn’t that Blaine was bothered if Sheila hooked up with Claire, it was more that Claire was a bigger player than even Blaine, and she didn’t want her assistant hurt. She and Claire had been out on the prowl together often enough for Blaine to have watched her in action, and to have witnessed more than one slighted lover throwing her expensive drink on Claire’s worn leather jacket.

     Snorting quietly to herself at the absurdity of her rebellious assistant being the one who needed saving, Blaine flipped the book over to look at Linda Sykes once more. Her picture on the back cover reminded her of the professor’s sultry good looks, and of just how long it had been since Blaine had been with a woman for longer than a night.

     In the taxi on the way to her hotel, she decided to have dinner first, and then give the good Doctor a call to determine when she wanted to meet. Blaine was intrigued by Sykes’ assertions about the link between the Indian skeletons and Colossus of Rhodes, the enormous statue erected by the ancient citizens of the island to their Sun god, Helios. According to Sykes, the globe, or orb, the statue had held in his uplifted hand was made of solid gold, and had never been found.

     This kind of relic mystery was what Blaine lived for. It got her blood flowing, her heart thumping, and her legs twitching. She was ready to get running up some mountain or down some ravine, wherever the treasure might lie, just waiting for her. 

     Traveling the world, Blaine had found, and been paid for, enough artifacts of historical significance to lead a very comfortable life, further enhanced by the books she wrote about the cultures they came from. Now she took every opportunity to find ever more obscure artifacts, chasing down little known myths to find the secrets they concealed in real life. Deep down, she hoped the globe of the Colossus of Rhodes might be one of those.

     She checked in to her hotel, and took a long hot shower, washing away the re-circulated air from her flight and letting the water flow over her trim, muscular body. She took the time three days a week to work out, and the other two she jogged, even though she hated every moment of the tedium. Weekends were spent dancing in the clubs or doing yard work. She knew that the effects of her hard work showed, and no woman she had brought home for night of fun had ever had reason to complain about the strong, naked body on top of her.

     Momentarily, she thought of the last woman she had been with in the shower, and how long it had taken for the water to go cold as they soaped one another all over, only to end up wetter and messier than they had started. The woman’s body (Blaine couldn’t remember her name, just the perfectly soft light pink nipples) had been the perfect softness to Blaine’s hard body, and the combination steamed up the bathroom to a dizzying degree.She began to let her hands roam over her lithe 32-year-old body, remembering, only to be jerked from her reverie by the phone.

     Jumping out of the shower, she ran across the room to stop the shrill ringing.

     “I’m sorry, Doctor Vezick. Have I interrupted you?” The deep, sultry German accent sounded amused.

     “No, not at all. I was just…. How can I help you?” Blaine blushed, not wanting to admit she was standing there butt naked, dripping wet and slightly aroused.

     “This is Doctor Linda Sykes. I hope your flight was alright? You made it to the hotel okay?”

     “The flight was fine, thank you, except for the poor old man next to me who seemed to have a bad case of gas. And the hotel is lovely, thank you for recommending it.”

     “My pleasure. I’m glad you like it. It is a particular favorite of mine. I dislike those hotels that all look exactly like one another. They’re so sterile. Why visit a country with so much history only to stay in a place that has none? Anyway, I was wondering if we could have dinner this evening. I am excited to meet you and discuss this project.”

     “Absolutely. I’ll admit I’m intrigued. And starving,” Blaine hugged her arm around herself, trying not to freeze to death while on the phone.

     “Then I will meet you at the InterContinental at eight o’clock, yes? Your concierge can give you directions.”

     “Excellent. See you there.”

     Blaine sighed and jumped back into the shower, finishing quickly and figuring she could always find someone to take the edge off while she was in Germany.

***

     Blaine appreciated the silver candleholders with animal cutouts on the tables in the restaurant, which gave the illusion that animals were dancing across the table. Recognizing Dr. Sykes from her picture, Blaine saw her sitting in a dark corner of the exclusive restaurant. She navigated through the dim room, her stomach growling embarrassingly loudly as she passed tables covered with an array of delicious food.

     As she approached, Linda Sykes stood to shake her hand, and Blaine quickly took in a tall, voluptuous woman with sharp, angular features in an equally angular, tight black dress. Her eyes and hair were the same midnight black as her dress, and Blaine shivered at the seductive and dangerous effect. The yellow gold on her wrists and fingers glittered in the candlelight and the deer image from the candle flickered erotically across her exposed skin. Blaine fleetingly thought of the goddess Diana who ran with deer through the forests, and killed any man who hunted in her territory. Surreptitiously glancing over the woman’s body, she thought the goddess image appropriate.

     Blaine was glad she had chosen to wear something other than the usual jeans and sweatshirt. Her black slacks hugged her slim hips and her white button down shirt was pressed and starched. Black leather boots reflected the candlelight as she moved. Her only jewelry was a thin palm-rope necklace an old medicine woman had given her deep in the Amazon years ago. At six feet tall, she was accustomed to being substantially taller than the women around her, and yet she found herself looking almost eye to eye with Linda Sykes. Who was, at the same moment, slowly appraising Blaine in a less than circumspect way. When their eyes met again, Blaine said quietly, “Lovely restaurant.”

     Linda’s cheeks turned slightly pink, but she said evenly, “Yes. It is one of my favorites, and I find that it has a variety of foods that appeal to foreigners.”

     They sat down and perused the menu in awkward silence for a moment, neither knowing how to begin.

     Breaking the silence, Blaine said, “It’s nice to see you again. I’m sorry we didn’t have the chance to get to know one another at last years Classical Literature conference.” If Linda heard the double entendre in Blaine’s comment, she didn’t acknowledge it.

     “Indeed. It would have been instructive for both of us, I’m sure.”

     Laughing, Blaine settled back in her chair, ready for a lovely evening. Linda too, relaxed in her seat and gave Blaine a genuine smile.

     After ordering their meals, they turned to small talk. When asked, Blaine told Linda about her childhood fascination with mythology, and how she would lay awake at night reading about Hercules and his adventures. As she got older, she would pick up books about mythology in other parts of the world and bore her parents to death over dinner about the things she had learned.

     “When I had to declare my major in college, it was an easy decision. The only things I had ever been passionate about were mythology and culture. So I became an anthropologist with a specialty in cultural mythologies. It’s still my passion.”

     Linda smiled and said, “I somehow doubt that those are your only passions.” Blaine stared intently at Linda’s face, with its confluence of angles and softness but did not see any hint of hidden meaning. She swallowed hard as she watched full red lips sipping equally red wine.

     “Well, my only academic passions, anyway,” Blaine admitted, not wanting to seem overly forward, but intensely interested in the soft skin across from her.

     “Why Skeleton Lake?” asked Blaine, attempting to get the conversation back on track before she just grabbed the professor and pushed out the door and into the back seat of the little red Renault rental car. Listening to the smooth, German inflected English made her shiver and she began to fuss with her silverware in an attempt to focus. 

     “It has been a passion of mine for years, since I read about it when I was a little girl. When I got to a point in my career, as I believe you have, to be able to run my own large scale research projects, I decided to start with Skeleton Lake, since I received enough funding for an expedition from the University. One of the many things we do not know with scientific certainty, is exactly who these people were. We do not know where they came from, or why. We know only that they were killed en masse by a horrific hailstorm, shown by the massive injuries sustained by nearly all of the skeletons. Large, round fractures suggest the manner of death. We know also that they were related to the villagers who live nearby today.”

     “I imagine your work with DNA in that regard was well received?” Blaine sipped her wine, focusing once again on soft cherry lips. She glanced up when Linda didn’t reply right away, and grinned when the German slowly licked a drop of wine from her bottom lip.

     Grinning back, Linda said, “Yes, it was. However, my interest now lies primarily in the link I believe exists between the Skeleton Lake tribe and the Greek god Helios.”

     Linda broke off and looked down at her meal, pushing the food around in small circles on her plate. Blaine watched as the German woman pushed her plate away and ran the tip of her finger around the top of the wineglass. Blaine shifted, suddenly too warm.

     “So, Linda, flesh out your theory for me. I got a glimpse of it on the plane, but fill in the gaps, if you will, from the beginning.”

     Linda shifted in her chair and took a deep breath. Getting a view of deep cleavage, Blaine cleared her throat softly and crossed her legs tightly under the table. She wondered what Linda would do if she suddenly dove under the expensive white table cloth and came up under her tight black dress. Shaking her head, Blaine forced herself to pay attention to the conversation at hand.

     “Very well,” Linda said.  “Once upon a time, if you will indulge me, the philosopher Strabo wrote in his Geographica about the Colossus of Rhodes, the statue of the Greek god Helios. The people on the Island of Rhodes, removed from Greek and Turkish rule because of their geographic distance, erected the statue to the god they worshipped above all others. According to the writing, the Colossus straddled the strait that led into their harbor, but with research it seems impossible for it to have done so. More likely, it was built on the edge of the water, as a sort of beacon to incoming ships, much like the Statue of Liberty, which, of course, is based on the statue of Rhodes. Only fifty-four years after it was erected, a massive earthquake destroyed it. According to a few Greek historians, like Strabo and Pliny the Elder, much of the statue was white marble, with bits of iron and bronze, as well as a few bits made of gold, including a golden orb Helios held in his upraised hand, representing the earth over which he ruled. The statue lay on the banks of the river where it fell for almost eight hundred years, and then pieces of it were pillaged here and there for other building projects. The orb, however, was never found.  I’m sure you know all of this.

     “It is this, though, which leads to the next section of my theory. In Greece during the time of the Colossus, Greek philosophers and the wealthy traveled to India in search of the exotic, returning with food, silks and spices to show to their prosperous friends. Some even returned with Indian brides.” Linda wiggled her eyebrows and they laughed. “There was a particular Indian tribe, however, called the Vatachari, who paid close attention to the Greeks, welcoming them in every way. They shared religious information, societal ideas, and even philosophies. Their location on the coast allowed them to greet the Greeks as soon as they arrived in port.”

     Blaine nodded to show she was listening, forcing herself to concentrate on what Linda was actually saying instead of staring and drooling like a teenager over the German’s exotic eyes and shadowed cleavage.

     “Here is where my contention comes into play. You see, the Vatachari tribe disappeared quite suddenly, coinciding with the destruction of the Colossus.” Sykes leaned forward, fire in her dark eyes that had nothing to do with the candlelight. “I believe that a group of Rhodes philosophers brought the orb to the Vatachari tribe in order to keep it sacred, which couldn’t be done with the Greeks as well as the Turks and the Romans rampaging through the area to claim land. The only way for the tribe to keep it safe was to relocate, deep into the Himalayas. At Skeleton Lake, there are nearly six hundred bodies littering the lakeside and water, all killed at exactly the same time. We know this because we have carbon dated the skeletons, and all show the same degree of degeneration.

     Linda took a long sip of wine, clearly organizing her thoughts. “In India, especially in the ninth century, a group this enormous would have been noticed migrating; and yet, there is no mention of it in any written records of the time, of which there are many. I believe the other nearby villages ostracized them for their willingness to believe in the Greek gods. As you know, the Hindu in the area were very protective of their gods and way of life. So, the Vatachari began a journey to the Hall of the Mountain Kings in the Himalayan Mountains to keep the orb of Helios safe. This was made easier, of course, by the ostracism they faced. No one paid any attention to the outcasts.”

     Blaine met Linda’s gaze directly, and said, “While the concept of cultural ostracism isn’t new, and I’ve felt it once or twice myself, I can see how the idea of an entire tribe migrating due to it would be difficult to prove, especially several hundred years on. Tell me about the Mountain Kings.”

     Linda inclined her head in acknowledgment of Blaine’s inference to the cultural ostracism lesbians still faced, regardless of the culture one lived in.

     “The Hall of the Mountain Kings is a long set of virtually undetectable caves located at the bottom of the valley, or hall, in the north east section of the Tapak region, carved deep into a mountain and barely passable even in good weather. It is said that when standing at the bottom of the canyon, a person can hear the voices of the gods. What better place for the tribe to take the orb than directly into the home of the gods? But, during their trek, the Vatachari were caught in a massive hail and snow storm, with hail stones the size of softballs, which, as I mentioned before, is indicated by the large, round fractures on the skulls and bones. There was nowhere to run, and nowhere to take any kind of shelter. Some of the bodies tumbled into the lake, where they froze. The ice water preserved them in a fantastic state. That, of course, is one of the ways we were able to get enough DNA to tie the villagers who still live in the area to the skeletons at the lake.”

     “And so you believe that the orb is still at Skeleton Lake? Or with the villagers?” Blaine tilted her head, her brow furrowed in concentration as she considered the implications of the Doctor’s supposition, while at the same time subconsciously contemplating the creamy skin stretched over Linda’s collarbone.

     “I am certain it is in the area, although I do know if it remained at the lake or if is with the villagers. I have researched this, and I have studied Skeleton Lake’s remains myself. I could not dig at the time because I was not prepared. But I want to go back, and I believe with your help, we can find the lost orb of Helios. Legend has it that it has the power to bring spiritual truth to any who possess it. Can you imagine? A way to say once and for all which religion is correct.” Linda sat back, staring intently at Blaine, who met the woman’s intense, dark gaze, contemplating.

     Blaine remained silent for a long moment, thinking of all the difficulties and pitfalls they might encounter. The look in Linda’s eyes when she mentioned the spiritual aspect made her slightly uneasy. That kind of obsession could lead to trouble. In the end, after a lot of trouble, they could come up empty. And, although she had seen some amazing things in her explorations, she had yet to come across anything that delivered on some esoteric promise.

     “Dr. Vezick—Blaine. Please. I know it is true. I know it as surely as I know my own name. Your background in mythology and anthropology will help interpret the tales the villagers tell, and therefore where at Skeleton Lake to begin the search. There are still stones, pottery, weapons and even a bit of clothing to help determine which member of the tribe would have been given the honor of carrying the sacred treasure. I have read your book on the ancient Indian pantheon. I speak Telugu, but I do not know all of the ancient mythologies as you do. Please.”

     Linda’s unflinching dusky eyes gazed into Blaine’s navy blue ones, pleading with her to make the leap of faith and undertake what would be a long, arduous trip. At least now Blaine understood exactly why Linda had chosen her instead of someone much closer, geographically. If they succeeded, it would prove not only the existence of the Colossus of Rhodes, but could also prove that Linda was right, and that this was the Vatachari tribe, long forgotten but incredibly important. Successfully finding the orb would also add to Blaine’s credentials as an expert in her field.

     “I suppose I’ve made more difficult journeys, and with less information,” Blair admitted, hesitantly. “How do you know, though, that someone didn’t survive and take the orb far away? I mean, we can’t even be certain the orb, or the Colossus itself, existed, can we?”

     Linda’s face fell and her shoulders slumped slightly. She sipped her wine while staring at the flickering candle.

     “No, we have no direct evidence,” she said. “However, artifacts thought to be absolute myth have been found with less evidence. Noah’s Ark, for instance, is believed to be encapsulated in a glacier in upper Siberia. The Ark of the Covenant is housed in a tiny village in Egypt. These are artifacts with nothing but a biblical reference, and yet they exist. You yourself have found the sun god statue of Inti and the fabled bronze statue belonging to the Temple at Ephesus, items that were nothing more than parts of stories told around village fires. I read your book” she said at Blaine’s questioning look, “and like your books, the Colossus was written about by philosophers who saw it, or at least the remains of it, with their own eyes. There is no reason to doubt its existence, and my research indicates that the orb, and the Vatachari, are more than possibilities. They are facts.”

     Blaine was impressed with Linda’s calm, determined speech. Clearly she believed what her research indicated, and as she pointed out, other items with less evidence had been found. As she said, Blaine herself had found more than one item long thought to be imaginary.

     Nodding slowly, Blaine took a drink of good German beer and said, “Okay. I’m in, if you’ll take care of the travel arrangements. I hate all the red tape stuff.”

     The professor’s face spread in a gigantic smile, her full cherry red lips parting over even white teeth, and she grasped Blaine’s hand tightly.

     “Thank you. I know you won’t be disappointed. And I will handle all of the travel arrangements, as well as the guides and climbing gear. Do you have anyone particular you wish to work with? I’ve already spoken with John Stanton and Kris O’Shea about joining us, and they will bring small teams as well.”

     Blaine flinched slightly at the mention of Kris O’Shea. After the last time they had parted company, with some kind of unflattering epithet following Blaine out the door in the morning, she didn’t think Kris would be happy to see her.

     “I’ve worked with John a few times, mostly on small archeological digs that have a large amount of artifacts with inscriptions. He’s a great guy. Kris, well, Kris and I…”

     With a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes, Linda said, “Yes, Kris O’Shea is aware that I was going to request that you join us. She said you had been invaluable when she was deciphering Celtic hieroglyphs in the Orkney Islands last year, and that you had some personal history as well, although that wouldn’t effect this trip.”

     “Oh. Good. Well then, it shouldn’t be a problem. Could you recommend someone to come along as an assistant for me? Someone to take notes and keep me organized. I tend to need a bit of watching after.” Blaine smiled sheepishly, and Linda gave an open throated laugh. “Plus,” Blaine continued, “I’ll need to call my University and get my classes covered until the end of the term and not just for the ones I’ve already covered. Even if we make it back before the term ends, I have a feeling I’m going to be tired when this is over.”

     Linda’s smile made it to her eyes this time, and Blaine wondered just what Kris had told her about their time together. “Yes, you very well might be exhausted. But please, come to my office in the morning. You can call from there at no charge to yourself, and then we can meet up with the rest of the team.”

     Nodding in agreement, Blaine finished her beer, contemplating the trip. With Chris along, this could be a very interesting adventure. Chris was hot—hot in bed, hot in emotions, hot in passions, hot in anger. Blaine wondered if she would stand any chance of slipping into Linda’s sleeping bag with Chris nearby. The chances of her having cooled enough toward Blaine to make this trip what could be an exceptionally pleasant threesome were slim, if not non-existent. But, she thought, just maybe…Glancing up, she met Linda’s smile with one of her own, and continued speaking with her about the details of the trip, pondering her own motivations for agreeing to join the expedition.

     It had been too long since she had shared an adventure with an attractive, single woman. She simply hadn’t planned on sharing one with two single women, one of whom she had already enjoyed. Things could get complicated when too many women played in the same arena. At the very least, though, this trip offered good eye candy and perhaps the chance for a warm bed for more than a night. Not to mention the possibility of finding a piece of a long forgotten sun god and the tribe that worshipped him. Stretching her back muscles and relaxing further into her chair, Blaine looked at the gorgeous woman across from her and couldn’t wait to get started. It could be a very good journey indeed.  

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