The Five-Day Dig (16 page)

“Well, let me know if you hear from him.” Frowning, he turned back to the wall, using a trowel to scrape away more soil from the bricks and mortar.

“Thanks for asking.” She stooped back down and went back to her own digging. To change the subject she asked, “How do you suppose Dr. Farber is enjoying working with Father Giampiero?”

“Hard to say. If he thinks Giampiero has potential as a patron of Growden, I’m sure they’ll get along well.” He paused and looked more closely at the stretch of wall he’d just uncovered. “Oi, look at this mold spot.”

Winnie inched closer to him and observed a whitish triangular blob with varying densities of shading. The vertical and diagonal streaks in it almost looked like draped fabric, as if the mold depicted a figure wearing a hooded robe. “That’s not good. If these buildings have mold like that inside, the frescoes are in danger.”

Chaz looked at her with a funny expression on his face. “But doesn’t it kind of look like the Virgin Mary?”

She looked back at the spot. Could it be the remnants of an ancient painting? Leaning closer, she couldn’t detect any fragments of color or signs of brushstrokes.

Behind her, Chaz smothered a laugh.

Turning around, she found him grinning at her. She swatted him on the arm with the back of her hand. “Very funny.”

She rolled her eyes and went back to work.

The ease of digging and the abundant, if minor, finds made the day pass quickly. Whenever a good-sized shard of pottery came to light, they paused to muse over the style and estimate the century of origin. They also turned up a dozen fragments of glass and two well-preserved first-century coins.

Not long after lunch, the sound of fast-approaching footsteps and voices made them look up. Dunk ran up to the side of the trench with Enza in tow and Hank’s camera pointing in Winnie’s direction. The host of the show held out a small metal sheet of Latin text to her. “Dr. Price, we need your help with a translation. We found this inside the entrance to the temple.”

She felt a jolt of nervousness, then realized that the item looked familiar. Searching her mind, she remembered seeing similar sheets in a museum in
England
. She moistened her lips. “It looks like a
defixio
– a curse tablet. I’ll take a crack at it.”

“A curse tablet?” Dunk gave the camera an exaggerated look of alarm, his prominent eyes growing round, then handed the artifact to her.

Despite her nerves, the translation proved easy, being basically what she expected. “It reads, ‘To the Great Mother, I give he who defiles her temple. I give his mind, his liver, his lungs, his life.’ ”

Dunk gaped at her. “So anyone who defiles the temple here is cursed?”

Presumably, he meant the comment to be funny, but she just found it cheesy. She chose to respond seriously. “That may have been the intention, or the writer may have had a particular defiler in mind.”

He turned to address the camera. “I hope we’re not in trouble.”

“Not unless we defile the temple,” Chaz said, tossing a sardonic glance Dunk’s way. He then pointed to the tablet. “Winnie, there’s more on the back.”

She turned it over and examined the writing on the reverse side. “It says, ‘May the Great Mother favor those who sacrifice properly to her at her temple.’ ” She smiled at Dunk. “See: It’s not all bad.”

Ignoring her, he stepped away from the trench and spoke into the camera as Hank followed him toward the third building on the site. “How about that, folks? Our first curse tablet ever on ‘The Five Day Dig.’ Now, let’s see what’s up in Trench 3.”

Chaz held his hand out toward Winnie. “Can I see the defixio?”

She handed it to him, but Enza snatched it out of his grasp. “No time now. Sorry, Charles.”

She ran after Dunk and Hank.

Chaz watched her, his lips bunched together.

His look of annoyance with the beauty gave Winnie a spurt of pleasure. She subdued the unworthy feeling and tried to sound neutral. “She’s just excited. And so is Dunk, apparently. That curse nonsense really seemed to stoke his imagination.”

After another moment of brooding, Chaz turned back to his work. “He often talks up finds to try to get even the casual viewers interested. After fifteen seasons, it must be difficult at times.”

She sat down in the dirt and picked up her trowel. “Fifteen seasons. It’s hard to believe they’ve done that many shows.”

“True, although the seasons are shorter than American ones tend to be, and the early shows had a simplistic format. I suppose over the years, they’ve had increasing pressure to outdo themselves. Now it sort of feels like they’re trying too hard. In a setting like this, there’s no need.” He looked over at her. “When we took our break this morning, I got my first peek at the frescoes in the temple.”

She smiled. “Those images are spine-tingling, and I’m sure our five days here will be packed with fascinating finds. I only hope that our experience with the cast of ‘The Dig’ doesn’t ruin the show for you.”

“If it does, it will be a small price to pay in return for the chance to take part in the excavation.”

At dinner that evening, the wines, sauces and pastas varied from the previous night, and so did the atmosphere. After a successful first day, the group seemed more confident in themselves as a team and chatted with each other more openly. Everyone looked tired, sunburned and happy.

They had taken the same seats as before, with Farber joining them next to Father Giampiero and far enough away from Winnie for her satisfaction. Next to her, Jack’s seat stood waiting for him again.

Dunk looked around at the group with a wide grin. “Cheers to everyone for a fantastic Day 1. Tomorrow we’ll knock off earlier, so we have time for our mystery-religion ritual.”

An unexpected bang made Winnie jump. The ice in the water goblets tinkled.

She looked across the table to see Father Giampiero glowering at the TV host, his fist clenched next to his plate where it had landed. “I will not take part in such blasphemy.”

An awkward silence ensued. Most of the guests fidgeted and avoided looking at each other, studying their food with extra attention.

Dunk cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Father, it’s only a reenactment, not real.”

She ventured a peek at the head of the table. Domenico sipped a glass of wine, looking sedate but slightly stiffer than usual.

The priest glared at him. “Dom, you should not allow such a thing on your property.”

“But, Father,” Dunk broke in, “experimental archaeology brings life to the sites we explore. It’s an integral part of our program.”

Enza flashed one of her melting smiles at the clergyman. “It helps us acquire knowledge about the ancients,
Padre
.”

“There is no knowledge to be gained in false gods, Enza.”

Domenico set down his glass. “With all due respect,
Padre
, I am honored to have ‘The Dig’ here, and I don’t wish to impede the team. They must carry on as usual – though, of course, Enza and I won’t engage in the rites.”

His daughter’s face crumpled. “But, Papa, I want to take part.”

He gave her a stern look, and she shrunk in her chair, pouting.

The priest threw down his napkin and stood up, frowning at Domenico. “You and I will talk more when you come to confession.
Mi scusi
.” He stalked out of the room.

Domenico watched him go, his expression bland. He took a sip of wine, then he skimmed the room with a polite smile.

Winnie made an effort to smile back, holding his gaze.

His expression warmed a little. Standing, he said to the group, “Not to worry. I will reason with him. Of course, ‘The Dig’ will operate as always.
Anche mi scusi
.”

She watched him leave the room, taking his wine with him, his shoulders straight with dignity. His composure impressed her – and intimidated her a little.

Dunk turned to Enza. “So, you won’t participate in the experimental archaeology?

Her lower lip quivered. “Unfortunately, I must do as my father sees fit. As always.”

“Would he permit you to give me a tour of the grounds tomorrow at lunchtime?” he asked in the manner of one attempting to distract a child from a tantrum. “I’m sure I couldn’t ask for a better guide to point out traces of other ruins to me.”

Her gaze shot to meet his. “Of course. I know every corner of the estate.”

The blatant way he manipulated the teenager bothered Winnie, though she supposed he was just trying to console the girl.

She looked at Chaz, who was watching the scene with his lip curled in disapproval. Apparently, he wasn’t as immune to Enza’s charms as he claimed. Another pang of jealousy jabbed her.

Looking into her wine glass, she nursed her wound. What was her problem? Was Domenico too much of a man for her, scaring her into falling back on her attraction to a student? Not that Chaz couldn’t hold his own in his element, but he didn’t have the hard-as-nails but sleek-as-silk demeanor of his older rival.

She wouldn’t have wanted him to.

Stealing another peek at him, she took in his mussed hair, his milky complexion, his classic nose and lips. He had a cleft chin, she noticed – a masculine detail accentuated with a dense growth of stubble that showed he wasn’t so much of a kid after all.

She remembered how his biceps felt through the fabric of his shirt, how his arm felt around her. He was man enough, when she let herself acknowledge it. And, judging by the fluttering she felt in her stomach,
that
struck her with far more fear than whatever trepidation she felt around Domenico.

Chaz’s gaze slid to meet hers, and she looked away, embarrassed to be caught ogling him. She hoped that staring at his chin hadn’t looked like she’d been fixated on his mouth, longing to taste him.

That thought made her long to taste him.

Egads
.
She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her chin, hoping he would take it for a hint that a dribble of something on him had caught her eye. Since she couldn’t even bring herself to meet his gaze again, she doubted her act convinced him.

Think about how suave Domenico is
, she told herself. She glanced at the host’s empty chair, wishing he hadn’t left the room.

Absence did not make the heart grow fonder when the heart kept focusing elsewhere.

D
IECI

O
N
D
AY
T
WO
of “The Dig,” stiff muscles and waning energy slowed Winnie down physically, but her enthusiasm increased as the architectural details on their wall began to emerge. Four columns in relief decorated the stucco exterior, and the archway now appeared to be an entrance. They found no evidence for a door itself, so the building would likely be filled with lapilli.