The Land Across Read Online Free Page A

faded away. He straightened up and considered the meat rolls steaming on his plate. “I wish him well.”
    I remembered the canceled flights and the flight that had gone on to Ankara without landing here. “It seems just about hopeless.”
    “Fortunately”—Volitain pointed his fork at me—“there is the third way. You might grow rich here. If you wish to return to Amerika there is no difficulty. Our officials fear the rich. It is the same with you, eh?”
    I said it was.
    “Now let us turn the page. You may choose to remain with us. Much is here for the man of wealth. I offer a plan.”
    I probably looked like I did not believe him. That was the way I felt.
    “I will not deceive you, for I do not deceive. My plan will make me rich, too, if it succeeds. It may be it fails. Failure is at least as likely as success. Will you close your ears to me?”
    I shook my head.
    “That is well. You are Kleon’s prisoner. It is not a handicap, and may favor us.”
    “We together.” Martya squeezed my hand.
    “Exactly. There is a treasure, or there may be. The explanation will take some time.”
    I chewed and swallowed a mouthful of fadennudeln . “Then get going. I want to hear it.”
    “It require you to pay some money. Not much.”
    “Yeah, I figured. And?”
    Volitain cut a meat roll and studied it. “You think I take your money. I do not. I say first that if we find this treasure, together or separately, it is to be shared equally between us three. It is understood? If Martya finds it alone, she must share with us. If I find it, and nothing you know of my finding, I will share with you and Martya. If you find it, you must share with both of us.”
    I said, “Okay,” and the three of us clasped hands.
    “Now we are partners,” Martya said. “Tell him of the judge.”
    “Hear me. The year is eighteen sixty. A young man called Eion Demarates leaves home after a quarrel with his father. Twenty years pass, and he return a rich man. His father is dead. His mother likewise. There are brothers, sisters. All want his gold, but Eion Demarates give them nothing. There are old quarrels.”
    I nodded again to show I understood.
    “He builds a fine house for himself. He has servants, a carriage with four horses, and many other things. We go forward. The year is eighteen eighty-eight, eh? Hear me, for this you must understand. In eighteen eighty-eight, our money was not rubbish.” Volitain got out his wallet and scattered bills over his meat rolls. “Rotting garbage, this is. My dolmades are not so bad as this. In the year of which I speak, it was not so. Our money is silver and gold.”
    “Ours, too,” I said.
    “You were robbed in that case, just as we were.”
    Martya said, “If you don’t want those, I’d like one.”
    Volitain said, “You are my guest,” and she speared a bill and a meat roll with a single thrust of her fork. He stared for a moment, then laughed.
    Grinning, Martya licked a little grease from her punctured loot.
    “An ancestor of mine was the judge here at that time.” Volitain was wiping the rest of his bills with his napkin. “We have half a dozen judges in Puraustays now. In that year, the city was smaller and there was little crime. We had only one, the ancestor of whom I speak. Demarates went to bed, eh? His valet helps him to undress, warms the bed, builds up the fire, does all those things. When his master is in bed the valet wishes him a good rest, puts the little cap on the candle, and goes out. Death finds his master asleep and does not wake him. A physician is brought, an inquest is held, all that. Nothing bad is found.”
    I said, “And then?”
    “No gold either.” Volitain smiled and licked his thin lips. “There are banks, but Eion Demarates? No accounts he has. His servants stole it, so my ancestor believes. They are questioned under torture. This one has taken a silver cup, that one the razor with which he shaves his master. A maid takes clothing for her son, fine