Mildred said nothing for a moment. Barras fought for breath, exhausted by his efforts to tell his story, forcing it out while he was still lucid. She found it sad that he referred now to the islanders and the use of the treasure in the third person, as though it no longer had any direct meaning for him. It was, she supposed, an acknowledgment of impending chill.
“I still don’t get why you’re telling me and not your daughter about this,” Mildred said finally.
Barras allowed himself a small smile. “The timing is all wrong. She has no husband, no ally to watch her back. This is the perfect time for the treasure to be taken from the people for private gain, when the whitelands are reached. There are too many possibilities for it to be snatched away. No, it must not be revealed until the Pilatans are settled upon the mainland and there is order restored after the chaos of travel. Sineta will be established as baron by then, no matter what, and it will be harder to resist her status in taking the riches.
“I want you to take the treasure…you and your companions. You are outsiders and will be able to take the treasure and protect it until the whitelands are reached. And you, Mildred, will then be in the perfect position to reveal the secret to my daughter.”
“You would trust me…trust my friends, who are pale ones…you would trust us with the riches of Pilatu?”
“Perhaps I am a stupe old man whose mind is muddled by the long chilling, and you would take the riches and run, using them for yourselves. Perhaps. But I think that is not the case. I have seen you, have heard about you…and your friends. They have been misjudged by many in this ville because of their skin, but that is an attitude that will have to be changed when my people are out in the whitelands. Things are not as they were. On the whitelands, much has changed—although I grant you that much will always remain the same—whereas on this island we have been enclosed in a bubble of our making where almost all has always remained the same. Perhaps your way is better.”
“Perhaps,” Mildred said softly, “but if you knew my history—my real history—then you would know why this island has cut so deeply with me.”
“That is good for you, Mildred Wyeth, but I must look forward to the future for my people, even if I will not be there to see it. You must promise me that you will do this for me,” the old man said.
Mildred sighed. Things were getting more and more complicated at a time when she least needed it. But at least she would be able to discuss this with J.B. when she met with him later tonight. ,
“Very well, tell me where it is, and I promise you that it will be done.”
The old man squeezed her hand. “I knew that I could rely on you. You have a nobility that runs deep. In many ways, you remind me of the woman I married.” For a moment a twinkle lit his glazed eyes. “But that was all a long time ago. I must dismiss these thoughts from my mind so that I may tell you. Past the point where the trees are being felled for boat building, you will find a river—the river where one of your friends was wounded yesterday. Go upstream for half a mile and you will come to a rock cluster that has a cave entrance. Inside the cave is a fork. To the left, it becomes so narrow that only a slender man or woman may squeeze through. Once through, there is a simple lever system that lifts this shelf of rock so that many may enter, and move the treasures within freely.”
“It sounds simple enough—as long as we aren’t followed.”
“That is your province. It is simple, true, and has only remained undisturbed for so long because none except the barons have known of its existence.”
“We’ll do it. In the next day or two. I’ll tell you when it’s accomplished. And, believe me, I’m honored that you’ve trusted me with this. I’ll do my damnedest not to let you down.” With which, she leaned over and kissed the old man on the forehead, a gesture heavy with respect.