Authors: Clive Cussler
Interspersed with the sculptures were dozens of small lacquered cabinets and tables covered in dust. On a large teak table, Summer noticed an elaborate place setting that shone under her light. The plates, flatware, and goblets sitting atop a silk mat were all cast in gold. Adjacent to the table was an assortment of silver and gold ornaments, some adorned with Arabic lettering and literary Chinese script. Other tables held mirrors, boxes, and art objects glistening with decorative gemstones. Summer crept to a nearby cabinet covered with scenes of battle painted in bright colors and pulled open a drawer. Inside, trays of amber, sapphires, and rubies filled the silk-lined case.
The sculptures and jewels didn't interest Pitt. He stared past the artifacts toward the centerpiece of the entire chamber. On a raised stone platform in the middle of the room stood a long wooden box. It was painted bright yellow and featured detailed carvings on each panel. Pitt stepped closer and shined his light at the top of the box. A stuffed cheetah, its teeth bared and a clawed paw scratching the air, seemed to hiss back at Pitt. He lowered his light to the top surface of the box and smiled at the image. A large wolf, painted blue, was emblazoned across the surface.
“May I present the late emperor of the Yuan Empire, Kublai Khan,” he said.
“Kublai Khan,” Summer whispered in reverence, her eyes wide. “It can't be.”
“I thought he was buried somewhere near Genghis,” Dirk said.
“According to popular legend. But the tale just didn't seem to add up. Borjin was able to locate the grave of Genghis Khan with his seismic device, but he never found Kublai. They should have been buried in the same ballpark. Then your Dr. Tong appears here, sidestepping a mission to disrupt the Alaska Pipeline in order to visit a shipwreck? There was obviously a greater draw, something only the Borjins could appreciate. I suspect they may have found an empty tomb for Kublai in Mongolia, or discovered some other clue that he was buried elsewhere.”
“I still don't see how that leads here,” Summer said.
“The story is in the cheetah skin. It was discovered at Shang-tu, so it had an original link with Kublai. The emperor was known to possess trained cheetahs used for hunting, so the skin may have even come from one of his pets. More relevant was that the cheetah skin was unearthed together with a silk map that purportedly showed the location of Genghis Khan's tomb. Borjin's father acquired the silk map, and Borjin himself admitted that it helped lead to the grave site. For some reason, the significance of the cheetah skin paintings was overlooked when first found. The blue wolf was the trigger for me.”
“What blue wolf?” Summer asked.
“A design motif,” he said, pointing to the image painted on the elevated wooden coffin. “It was a known emblem for the imperial khans, originated by Genghis. If you look at the cheetah skin closely, you can see a banner of a blue wolf flying on the mast of the burning junk in the last painting. It wouldn't be flown except in the presence of a khan. Your wreck, which matched the depiction of a royal vessel departing China on the panels, was dated fifty years after the death of Genghis. Too late for him to be taking a cruise. No, the dates align with the era when Kublai ruled. And died. The secret of the cheetah skin is that it shows the final voyage of Kublai Khan.”
“But why was he brought to Hawaii?” Summer asked, passing her light across the length of the sarcophagus. She held the beam momentarily on a twisted wooden staff that leaned against one end of the tomb. She noted curiously that a shark-tooth necklace dangled from its worn grip.
“His last years were difficult ones. Perhaps his âvoyage to paradise' was a plan to spend eternity on a faraway shore.”
“Dad, how did you know his tomb survived the volcanic blast and that we could find it?” Dirk asked.
“Whoever painted the cheetah skin had seen the tomb and treasures and had known they survived the lava flows, otherwise they would have been depicted in flames as well. I took a gamble on the entrance. The sea levels are higher than they were eight hundred years ago, so I figured the entrance might now be underwater.”
“The treasures here must represent the riches accumulated during his lifetime of conquest,” Dirk said, stunned at the sheer volume around him. “Perhaps some of the items were amassed during the reign of Genghis as well. It must be worth an untold fortune.”
“The Mongolian people were cheated out of Genghis Khan's treasure. It would only be fitting if they secure the riches of Kublai Khan. I trust they will find a more appropriate burial spot, on Burkhan Khaldun, where Kublai can spend eternity.”
The wonder of the hidden tomb played heavily on their inner thoughts, and the trio found themselves whispering as they roamed through the ancient treasures. Illuminated by just the glow of their flashlights, the shadowy chamber teemed with the mystery and aura of the Middle Ages. As the beams of light played off the glistening walls, Pitt was reminded of the real Xanadu, and the haunting poem by Samuel Coleridge.
“âThe shadow of the dome of pleasure / Floated midway on the waves,'” he recited in a low voice. “âWhere was heard the mingled measure / From the fountain and the caves.'”
Summer approached her father and squeezed his hand. “Mom always told us you were a hopeless romantic,” she smiled.
Their lights running low, Pitt and Summer moved together toward the passageway. Dirk sidled up as they took a last look around the chamber.
“First you save the tomb of Genghis. Now you discover Kublai Khan and the treasures of his empire,” he said with awe. “That's one for the ages.”
Summer nodded in agreement. “Dad, sometimes you are just amazing.”
Pitt reached his arms out wide and gave both his kids an affectionate hug.
“No,” he replied with a broad grin. “Sometimes, I'm just lucky.”
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