Kingdom of Darkness Read Free Page A

greatest leader in all of history.’ Kroll allowed himself a smug smile, pleased with his own irrefutable logic.
    Patras was unimpressed. ‘You may believe what you wish to believe. But the water is not for you. Andreas first thought to keep it for himself rather than share it with Alexander, and though he soon regretted that decision, by then it was too late.’
    ‘Then the water is the same as in the Romance , yes?’
    The old man nodded. ‘It is.’
    Kroll felt almost breathless with excitement. He had been right: the gold and silver treasures were nothing compared to the value of the water. ‘And . . . you know how to find its source?’
    A firm shake of the head. ‘No. This is a shrine to the memory and works of Andreas, marking his birthplace – but it is not his tomb. He is buried at the spring.’ Another shift in Patras’s attitude; now he seemed almost condescending, a schoolmaster looking down upon his pupils. ‘The path to the spring is hidden, but it begins here. If you truly think you are superior to Alexander, then perhaps you deserve to find it.’
    ‘Of course I deserve it,’ Kroll snapped. With that, he brought up his hand and sipped the water. The faint tingling was stronger upon his tongue. He gulped down the rest. For a moment he felt nothing. Then . . .
    ‘Are you all right, sir?’ Rasche again, shining his torch into his commanding officer’s face.
    Kroll blinked in annoyance. ‘Get that damn light off me. Yes, I’m fine. I’m . . .’ He paused as an odd feeling rose through him – almost elation , the tingle swirling through his veins to every part of his body.
    ‘The water – it could be stagnant. Or even poisoned.’
    ‘I’m fine,’ Kroll repeated. The sensation passed, but somehow he knew that something good – something remarkable – had just happened to him. And his knowledge of the Alexander Romance , a Greek recension of which he had read as a student, suggested what it might be.
    He made a decision. ‘Close the jar,’ he ordered Jaekel. ‘Put the stopper back in and find something to seal it with. I don’t want to lose a single drop of what’s inside.’
    ‘What is inside, sir?’ asked Schneider, who was holding Patras’s daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Even in the low light, Kroll noticed that he had wound his fingers into the woman’s long dark hair and was slowly stroking the strands.
    ‘Something that will make us very rich. All of us. Now listen. Gausmann, bring down the other men outside – I want the whole unit to hear this.’
    ‘What about the prisoners in the truck, sir?’ Gausmann asked.
    ‘Execute them. I know you have wanted to since we arrested them; now is your chance.’
    Gausmann was surprised, but pleased, a cold grin crossing his face as he saluted. ‘Yes, sir.’ He hurried up the stairs.
    ‘If I may ask, sir,’ said Rasche, barely hiding his impatience, ‘what is this about?’
    ‘It’s about a long and rewarding life, Rasche,’ Kroll told him. He stepped down from the plinth and waited. Muffled gunshots soon came from above.
    The prisoners flinched, the little girl beginning to cry. Schneider slid his fingers into her hair. ‘Hush now, little one,’ he said, giving her a snake-like smile. She buried her face against her mother’s neck.
    The other troopers clattered into the shrine, gazing at the treasures with awe. ‘Oster, come on,’ said Kroll, waiting for the last straggler to enter. Then he stepped forward to address his men. ‘Attention!’ All those not holding the Patras family snapped upright. ‘I want everyone to listen very closely. You’ve all seen what this room contains. It’s full of treasure . . . and we are going to take it.’ Eyes widened in avaricious delight. ‘But the gold and silver and jewels are not the most valuable things here. The water in that jar,’ he gestured towards it, ‘is worth the most of all. I will explain why this is later, but for now, I need to make it clear