of both Titus and Domitian. The land originally belonged to her. Like all of the forty other catacombs that came after it, this one was dug along one of the major roads.”
“How long will it take us to find the Catacomb of Domitilla?” asked Tibor.
“Not long,” said Albrecht. “The address is 282 Via delle Sette Chiese. It’s just west of the Via Ardeatina and the Appian Way.”
“You mean it’s that simple? It’s right there in the open?”
“Not exactly,” said Albrecht. “With Attila, nothing ever seems to be simple. The Catacomb of Domitilla held one hundred fifty thousand burials. It’s fifteen kilometers of underground passages on four levels. Each tunnel is about two meters wide and over two meters high, with shelves, or platform-shaped depressions, that hold the bodies of the dead. There are offshoots and rooms, each of which has more shelves dug into the rock. This kind of rock is called tufa, which is a soft volcanic stone that hardens after it’s exposed to air. It’s what is under all of Rome. If you wished to bury someone, you would find an unused spot or extend a tunnel to make one, then hollow out a shelf in the wall and put the deceased in it. Next, you would seal the space with a slab. Carved into the slab was the name of the deceased, his age, and the date of his death.”
“But why did Attila choose a catacomb?” asked Remi. “And how would he even know about them?”
Albrecht said, “I’m sure that elucidating and explaining what Attila did will take up most of the rest of my career. Rome was the most famous place in the world. People talked about it. Attila was probably taught to admire the Flavians, two of whom are included in the group historians call the five good emperors. Many of the Flavian family were buried in the oldest parts of this catacomb. He also knew that the desecration and looting of monarchs’ graves was a concern. We know he left instructions, going to great lengths, to hide his grave. We know Attila was very cunning. Because Rome was full of people from every country in the Empire, he probably knew it would be possible for a small burial party of Huns to look innocent long enough to enter a catacomb that was outside the city limits. To hide his grave among the graves of a hundred and fifty thousand, most of them Christians who owned little that could be left as burial goods, seems to be very much the sort of thing Attila might do. And of course we have his word that this is what he did.”
“The word of a twelve-year-old?”
“One of the things we know is that people who underestimated this man usually died. And there is another reason to have faith in the young Attila.”
“What’s that?”
“That year, Attila was the one chosen as hostage, not his older brother Bleda or anyone else. This was Ruga’s best chance to get a spy into the most important court on earth. It was also Rome’s chance to form a relationship with the youth whom they believed would one day be leading the Huns. Both sides agreed on who that would be—the twelve-year-old Attila.”
“All right,” said Sam. “We know where the tomb is, and all the members of the partnership are here. Let’s plan how we’re going to accomplish this.”
“I’d like to have all of us there for the finish,” Remi said. “Even if we’re fifteen hundred years late and the tomb has been looted, we all work to follow his instructions to the end.”
“Remi is right to mention the possible end,” said Albrecht. “Some of the catacombs were looted by Visigoths, Lombards, early medieval scavengers. It’s possible we’ll find nothing. But the Catacomb of Domitilla is the least compromised.”
Sam said, “What are the legalities?”
Selma said, “We’ve done some looking into it. The people of Rome abandoned the Catacomb of Domitilla by the ninth century, then forgot it existed. In 1873 it was rediscovered. Because most of the catacomb was an early Christian cemetery, it was placed under the ownership of the Catholic Church. In 2007 the Pope appointed the Divine Word Missionaries, an organization of priests and monks, to act as administrator. At the moment, about sixteen hundred meters are open to the public, but they’ve been cooperative about projects to explore, map, and photograph the rest of the catacomb for historical purposes. It’s by far the oldest and biggest, and the one that still contains the bones of its original dead. We’ve called Captain Boiardi of the Carabinieri Tutela Patrimonio Culturale. He has agreed not only to provide security but also to intercede for us with the Divine Word Missionaries. He’s telling them about the way you called in the authorities after the Mantua excavation.”
“Wonderful,” said Remi. “He’s somebody we want on our side.”
“He called a while ago and asked for you and Sam. I told him I worked for you, so he said to tell you he would be here as soon as he could. He has the Ministry of Culture approving this as a joint project. Anything that’s dated before the ninth century B.C. or after the fourth century A.D. will be granted a license for possible export to the U.S. Anything else will be negotiated case by case.”
“Those are generous terms,” said Sam.
“It will be good to have official backing,” Albrecht said. “Going into a catacomb is like a cave expedition. The floor is hard, smoothly finished, and reasonably level and dry. But beyond the areas open to the public, it’s not very different from the way it was in 300 C.E. There will be no electricity. None of the deceased will have been removed from their crypts and sepulchres. We’ll use what we bring and, when we go, we’ll leave nothing behind. This is a fifteen-kilometer archaeological site. We map and photograph, but, to the extent that we can avoid it, we touch nothing. We’ll have to be very deliberate, attentive, and patient because the tomb will be hidden somehow. What we’re after is one of the great treasures of the ancient world. Attila started thinking about this tomb when he was twelve and didn’t stop until he died thirty-five years later. All we can assume is that finding it will not be easy.”
Sam said, “I think we’d better all decide how we’d like to do this. I suggest that before we go down there, each of us think about our capabilities. If you don’t think you’re up to walking ten miles on a stone surface carrying a backpack, then you should remember that going there and back is twenty miles. If you have a hint of claustrophobia, it’s better to realize it now. There’s nobody in this room who hasn’t earned the right to be down there. But we’ll also need a team to remain on the surface to watch the vehicles, take charge of anything we bring up, deal with the authorities, and so on.”
The group all looked at one another appraisingly, but at first none of them spoke. Finally Selma said, “I’ll be worth more upstairs.”
“I’ll go down,” said Tibor.
“So will I,” said Janos.
“I think I need to be down also,” said Albrecht. “I know what we’re looking for.”
“I’m going down,” said Sam.
Remi said, “Me too.”
Wendy said, “I’ll stay with Selma.”
“Thank you,” said Selma. “I was beginning to wonder if I was going to be all alone.”
“I’ll stay up too,” Pete said.
Sam said, “Unless I have Boiardi wrong, I think he’ll supply a couple of Carabinieri to serve up on top too. If we find the treasure, the police will be the best ones to guard it. Next, let’s plan the equipment we bring down there. There will probably be Tibor, Janos, Remi, Albrecht, and me. I figure Boiardi and two Carabinieri will make it eight. We should each have a wheeled pushcart. The wheels should be large and inflated, like the tires of a small bicycle. That way, nobody has to carry a seventy-pound pack, and, if we find the tomb, we can begin removing objects on the first trip to the surface.”
“If carts like that aren’t available, I’ll have some fabricated,” said Selma.
“When do you think we’ll be ready?” asked Remi.
Selma said, “Today is Thursday. The catacomb is closed to visitors on Tuesdays. If we can complete the negotiations with the administrators by then, that would be the time to start.”
There was a knock on the door and then several waiters with carts brought in their dinner. The whole group adjourned to the large table and continued their planning over a feast. Selma had ordered a wide variety of dishes and the wine to go with them. There were seafood dishes, others of carved beef, lamb, chicken. There were pasta dishes and several kinds of salads. The next knock came about ten minutes into the feast. Sam went to the door.
In the open doorway stood Captain Boiardi, dressed in a dark civilian suit instead of a black uniform. Sam said, “Captain. I’m glad you could come so soon.”
“If you would save more policemen’s lives, I’m sure you would always have excellent service.” He embraced
