The Dumnonian Hoard: Rosenberg Twins Adventure #1 Read online

THE DUMNONIAN HOARD

  Rosenberg Twins Adventure #1

  Version Two

 

 

 

 

  (Leduc, Adrien 1987- )

  Cover Art by Lily Ruiz

 

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form than that in which it is published.

 

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 

  For my grandmother, A.M.A. Rest in peace. Love you forever.

  Prologue

  A packed lecture hall at the University of London. It’s a fancy sort of lecture hall, with rows of comfy chairs filling its centre and buffet tables laden with gourmet finger food lining the back wall. Dr. Martin Rosenberg, mid-way through his presentation, stands at the podium. The projector screen behind him serves as a visual aid for his presentation.

  “And so, to summarize, the Dumnonii lived a life of humble extravagance.”

  Dr. Rosenberg clicks the remote in his hand and the image on the screen changes to show an assortment of gold jewellery spread out on a black canvas.

  “Men and women would adorn themselves with rings and amulets and necklaces for special occasions, but otherwise seldom wore it. Boys were given silver amulets on their twelfth birthday and girls were given silver bracelets once they reached puberty.”

  Dr. Rosenberg clicks the remote once more.

  “Their precious metal reserves,” he motions at the screen where the audience is now treated to an image of bars of gold and silver on black canvas, “were held in common, by a clan treasurer. This was, in part, because it was simply impractical for each individual family to carry the stuff around. But more importantly, the Dumnonii, as many of you are surely aware, were heavily involved in overseas trade, (he pauses to take a sip of water), “and it was the treasurer, under the direction of a clan’s chieftain, who was responsible for coordinating transactions and making payments.”

  Dr. Rosenberg takes another sip of water and clicks the remote in his hand once more. This time the image shows a map of medieval Europe.

  “Their heavy involvement in trade meant that by the seventh century the Dumnonii had amassed a sizeable collection of precious metals, silver and gold coins, and treasures from across the known world. Susan Maccari’s latest essay, published in the January edition of Archaeologist Today, provides an excellent overview of the trading relationships they established. As many of you will know, the Dumnonii were exporting tin to Spain and the Mediterranean region. They traded with the Romans. They traded with the Gauls. They traded with the Irish.”

  The University of Toronto professor pauses and takes another sip of water. “The Dumnonii’s extensive trade network therefore brought them into contact with a number of diverse civilizations and the wares they accrued reflect that. Artifacts of Asian and Middle Eastern origin have been found at Dumnonii sites throughout Devon and Cornwall and in nineteen seventy three, a French team uncovered a gold crown at Saint Brieuc. The crown was believed to have belonged to Artogenos, head chief of the the Dumnonii of that part of France, and carbon dating revealed it to be more than fifteen hundred years old. As we know, gold at that time was only mined and manufactured in Greece and Egypt. Such a discovery thus not only serves to further illustrate the vastness of the Dumnonii’s trade network, it also brings me to my next point.”

  He pauses again to clear his throat and take another sip of water. “As Dr. Henderson explained in his presentation yesterday - ”

  He throws a nod to the Harvard professor seated in the front row.

  “ - as early as the fifth century, the Dumnonii began migrating across the English Channel and settling in northwestern France. This migration continued well into the tenth century, increasing exponentially whenever their communities faced threats from the West Saxons who for centuries had been eyeing their lands. The consequence of this was that there came to be two Dumnonii communities – the original one, the one in southern England, and the secondary one in northern France. The Dumnonii inhabitants of these two communities – culturally, linguistically, and genetically related – maintained a close relationship, engaging in commerce and arranging marriages between their sons and daughters.”

  Dr. Rosenberg pauses to take another sip of water and change the image on the screen. This time the image is of a warrior dressed in Saxon garb. The man has a braided beard of coarse blonde hair and a sword hanging from his side.

  “West Saxon incursions into Dumnonian territory became more frequent beginning in the eighth century. Ine of Wessex was their leader then - and a brutal one at that – and he was well aware of the wealth the Dumnonii possessed.”

  The professor pauses and takes another sip of water.

  “The Dumnonii, tragically, were no match for the West Saxons who, with their superior numbers and superior weaponry, quickly overwhelmed the Dumnonii. They seized their farm land, seized their mines, enslaved their women and children, and slaughtered many of their men.”

  Dr. Rosenberg clicks the remote and the image on the screen changes once more. This time we see a battlefield. The battlefield is littered with the corpses of mortally wounded warriors. Some of these are Saxon, though the vast majority are Dumnonii, recognizable by their leather armour and white tunics.

  “Now, what’s puzzled us all for years is that, despite losing battle after battle to the Saxons, no significant treasure hoard was ever surrendered. In other words, the West Saxons never did manage to get their hands on Dumnonii treasure. The question then, for all of us, is: did the Dumnonii even have a hoard treasure stashed away somewhere and if so, where did they hide it?”

  Dr. Rosenberg clicks the remote in his hand once more and up pops an image of a very old looking cathedral.

  “The discovery of the Scroll of Isca beneath Exeter Cathedral in nineteen ninety three was an important milestone for our field. For it validated, quite concretely, the existence of the Dumnonii’s long lost treasure - the fabled Dumnonian Hoard.

  He pauses and takes another sip of water, smacking his lips ever so slightly as he turns the page in his speaking notes.

  “As many of you are likely aware, the Scroll’s third passage translates as follows: ‘protected by our beloved Saint, where Dumnonia meets the sea, lie the prizes of the Dumnonii’. The ‘prizes of the Dumnonii’ most certainly refers to their treasure. ‘Where Dumnonian meets the sea’ obviously indicates that the treasure is more than likely buried or hidden at some spot along the coast. Finally, the line: ‘protected by our beloved Saint’, would suggest that the treasure is buried or hidden in close proximity to some vestige of a celebrated saint.”

  Dr. Rosenberg pauses again and scans the crowd, hoping they’ll be receptive to what he’s about to say.

  “Most scholars seem to have arrived at a consensus: that the Dumnonian Hoard - if it does truly exist - is hidden somewhere in Cornwall or Devon. Cornwall and Devon, as most of you will know, are the two English counties which today comprise what was once Dumnonia.”

  He pauses and clicks the remote again.

  “The idea that the Dumnonian Hoard is hidden somewhere in present-day Cornwall and Devon is not unreasonable. Saint Petroc was arguably the most celebrated saint in Dumnonia and he preached and tended monasteries and churches throughout the region. Both Cornwall and Devon are on the sea. And there are plenty of sites along the coast where there were on
ce statues of Saint Petroc and monasteries where Saint Petroc was priest. In fact some of these remain today. However, in twenty years of searching up and down the English coast, from Penzance to Exmouth, digging around at old churches and monasteries and studying statues and combing beaches, we’ve found nothing. Not a trace.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not here!” blurts a man seated in the third row, his face as red as his bowtie.

  Dr. Rosenberg purses his lips. “No, it doesn’t. But it is also fair to surmise that the Dumnonian Hoard may in fact not be here at all.”

  “Just what exactly are you suggesting, Dr. Rosenberg?” asks a tall, spectacled man near the back.

  “I am suggesting, Dr. Baxter, that the Dumnonian Hoard may be elsewhere. Allow me to explain,” he says quickly, quelling the murmurs enough to continue, “over the course of the past twenty four months I have done some digging. That’s pun intended, by the way,” he adds with a wink, hoping to garner a few laughs; he gets none. Instead the multitudes of eyes seem to be examining him as though he was some curious form of insect. Dr. Rosenberg clears his throat and continues. “I’ve come up with a rather bold - yet entirely feasible - hypothesis.”

  “And just what is your hypothesis, Dr. Rosenberg?” interrupts a short, squat man in the front row.

  “My hypothesis, Dr…?”

  “Dr. Mueller.”

  Dr. Rosenberg nods. “Dr. Mueller, my hypothesis is that the Dumnonian Hoard is not in England, but in France.”

  “No…”

  “I don’t believe it…”

  “How can you imagine such a thing!?”

  “Absolutely preposterous…”

  The reaction - from all sides - comes fast and furious.

  “Please, dear colleagues,” says Dr. Rosenberg, his tone pleading, “if you’ll bear with me for just a moment - ”

  “I can’t even listen to this…”

  “The Dumnonian Hoard in France! I never!”

  Dr. Rosenberg raises a hand. “Friends, please. Just a moment and I will explain.”

  “Please do!” huffs a woman in the second row, her gaze, through her pince-nez, wholly scrutinizing.

  “How can you bring such poppycock to this conference!?” demands the man with the bowtie.

  “My hypothesis is not poppycock!” Dr. Rosenberg replies hotly. “And if you would just listen - for two minutes - you might actually agree!”

  “I hardly think so!” the man retorts with a small laugh.

  This was it. He’d had enough.

  Not one to lose his temper, Dr. Rosenberg takes a deep breath, gathers up his notes, and steps calmly back from the podium. “Thank you for your time.”

  The chair for this particular afternoon - a middle-aged woman by the name of Helga Olsen from the University of Oslo calls after him as he leaves the stage. “Dr. Rosenberg, you’ve not finished your presentation!”

  “Oh, I think I’ve quite finished, Dr. Olsen. Thank you.” And with that, he turns and exits the lecture hall.