“Didn’t your father teach you not to play with explosives?” Giordino joked, pumping Dirk’s hand with a crushing grip.
Dirk forced a smile, then hugged his dad before sitting down at the table. “Summer tells me you’ve found an Ottoman shipwreck,” he said. The tone in his voice made it clear his focus was elsewhere.
“One that’s caused us a lot of trouble,” Pitt replied. “She dates to around 1570, and came with some unusual Roman artifacts aboard.”
“Unfortunately, all that’s left of those artifacts is some photographs,” Gunn added ruefully.
“Of course, it all pales in comparison to Summer’s discovery,” Pitt said.
Dirk turned toward his sister. “What was that?” he asked.
“You mean she didn’t tell you?” Giordino said.
Summer gave Dirk a sheepish look. “We ran out of time, I guess.”
“Such modesty,” Gunn said, rifling through a stack of papers on the table. “Here, I made a copy from Summer’s original,” he said, handing a sheet of paper to Dirk
He held up the page and studied it carefully:
University of Cambridge
Department of Archaeology
Translation (Coptic Greek):
Imperial Vessel
Special Manifest for Delivery to Emperor Constantine
Byzantium
Manifest:
Personal items of Christ, including a small wardrobe with:
Cloak
Lock of hair
Letter to Peter
Personal effects
Large crypt stone
Altar — from Church of Nazarene
Contemporary painting of Jesus
Ossuary of J.
Assigned to 14th Legionaries, at Caesarea
Septarius, Governor of Judaea
“This is for real?” Dirk asked.
“The original is written on papyrus. I saw it briefly,” Summer replied with a shake of her head, “so I know it exists. This was a translation performed by a well-known Cambridge archaeologist and etymologist in 1915.”
“It’s incredible,” Dirk said, his attention fully grabbed by the document. “All of these items personally related to Jesus. They must have been collected by the Romans after his death and destroyed.”
“No, far from it,” Summer said. “They were obtained by Helena, mother of Constantine the Great, in 327 A.D. The items on the Manifest were sacred, and likely sent to Constantine to celebrate the Roman Empire’s conversion to Christianity.”
“I still can’t believe you found it in England, of all places,” Gunn said finally.
“All on account of our dive on HMS
“I guess you could understand their fears,” Giordino stated. “Finding an ossuary with Jesus’ bones in it would certainly kick over a few apple carts.”
“It’s an interesting connection to the Roman artifacts we found on the Ottoman wreck, which also date to the time of Constantine and Helena,” Gunn noted.
“So these Jesus artifacts were placed on a Roman ship leaving Caesarea?” Dirk asked.
Summer nodded. “Helena is known to have made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, where she claimed to have discovered the True Cross. Fragments of the cross reside in churches all over Europe today. A common tale relates how the nails from the cross were melted down and incorporated into a helmet and bridle for Constantine. So Helena and the cross apparently made it safely to Byzantium. There is no mention of these items, however,” she added, pointing to the list. “They must have been shipped separately and were apparently lost to history ages ago. Can you just imagine the impact if we could have seen a contemporary image of Jesus?”
The room fell silent as everyone’s imagination conjured up a visual image of Christianity’s namesake. Everyone, that is, except Dirk. His eyes remained focused on the bottom of the Manifest.
“Caesarea,” he said. “It indicates that the shipment left Caesarea under the guard of Roman legionaries.”
“That’s just where you were working, isn’t it?” his father asked.
Dirk nodded.
“They didn’t happen to leave a sailing plan lying around etched in stone, did they?” Giordino asked.
“No, but we were fortunate in uncovering a number of papyrus documents from that era. The most interesting of them described the capture and execution of some Cypriot pirates. What was interesting was that the pirates had apparently battled a legionary force at sea sometime before they were captured. Dr. Haasis, whom I worked with at Caesarea, said the Roman legionaries were part of some group called the
Gunn nearly fell out of his chair.
“What… what did you say his name was?” he stammered.
“Platus, or perhaps it was Platius.”
“Plautius?” Gunn asked.
“Yes, that was it. How did you know?”
“That was the name on my marker, er, the marker that was found on the wreck site. It was a memorial to Plautius, who apparently died in a sea battle.”
“But you don’t have any clue where the marker came from?” Dirk asked.
Gunn shook his head as Zeibig’s face suddenly brightened.
“Dirk, you said the pirates were from Cyprus?” he asked.
“That’s what the papyrus record indicated.”
Zeibig rifled through some papers, pulling out a page of research data.
“The Roman Senator inscribed on the gold crown, Artrius? Dr. Ruppe sent some historical research which indicated that he served as Governor of Cyprus for a short while.”
A thin smile crossed Pitt’s face. “Cyprus, that’s the clue we’ve been missing. If the Cypriot historical records are intact, I’ll bet you’ll find that Traianus, the name on the monolith, was also on Cyprus. Perhaps he even reported to Governor Artrius.”
“Sure,” Giordino agreed. “Traianus was probably ordered by the Governor to erect a memorial after the gold crown arrived in the mail.”
“But what was the Roman crown and marker doing on an Ottoman wreck?” Dirk asked.
“I think I have a theory about that,” Zeibig said. “As I recall, Cyprus historically remained under Venetian rule long after the fall of the Roman Empire. But the Ottomans came around and successfully invaded the island around 1570, which just happens to be the approximate date of our shipwreck. I’d speculate that the gold crown and stone tablet were simply antiquarian spoils of war that were being shipped back to the sitting Sultan in Constantinople.”
“We can assume from the Manifest that Plautius was assigned to transport the religious relics on behalf of
