Barbarossa - David King's Treasure Quest. Short Story.

It was their sixth hour of arduous mountain hike and David’s legs started to feel like made of concrete, heavier and heavier with every step he has made. They had left small youth hostel before the first Summer Sun touched the ground and since then they have been climbing slopes of famous Untersberg on the Austrian – German border. They did not want to get to the highest peak. Today they have been walking on a slopy trail that run parallel to almost vertical ravine above their heads. They crossed Schellenberger Forst without seeing a single person, few deer crossed the path in a distance only to disappear like a dream seconds later. The silence was distorted only by whistling of the tree branches and countless leaves above their heads. His companion, Jack, looked like he has been walking in his garden, not even a droplet of sweat on his forehead, smile painted on his friendly face.

‘Shall we stay there for a moment?’ Asked David pointing to a bunch of wooden planks that imitated a shelter. Jack nodded and after another half an hour they entered a humble mountain retreat.

It was a tiny wooden hut with low ceilings and a massive lime mountain shooting into the sky just meters behind the back walls. The inside was very simple, almost Spartan, but tidy and evidently tenderly looked after. They were lucky as the farmer and his wife were inside and welcomed two visitors with smiles, glass of warm milk and a roughly cut slice of bread was soon served.

David and Jack sat at the front of the house and were admiring the breath-taking view that stretched in front of them. The sun brightened the green and brown colours of the mountains, but the early morning mist was still covering the valleys below.

‘Astounding view isn’t it?’ whispered David like he did not want to disturb the N`ature, painting this enchanted masterpiece for their eyes only.

‘A view to kill,’ agreed Jack, drinking water from his bottle, and eyeing a golden eagle sailing on the blue sky. ‘Nice place,’ he added after a moment, ‘and so peaceful.’

‘Where are you from?’ asked the farmer coming out of the narrow doors and sitting on the bench opposite his two guests in front of the house. His features seemed like carved from the mountain itself. Long face, with clearly cut high cheekbones and tanned skin contrasted with snowy white hair.

‘We are from Poland.’ Said Jack in his bass tone, ‘We love hiking, and this looked like a nice spot to spend a few days outside the office.’

‘Plenty of tourist come here,’ said old man, adding after a moment ‘Sometimes I think too many.’

‘Why would you say that?’ Asked David, his curiosity alerted for no apparent reason.

‘Because they scared so many birds…’ Said the man looking for a long moment through David’s eyes, deep into his inner soul. David shuffled his feet and changed his position. Turned his head towards the mountains below and something irrational made him return the question:

‘Why are you here? Do you live here permanently?’

‘We have to,’ was the short answer. Man was still drilling into David’s soul.

David did not want to listen to the man, but despite his effort to ignore him, his mouth asked: ‘Why?’

Old man did not answer it straight away. He turned to Jack, who was sitting, with his glass of milk half empty by now and for a long time was assessing this big man. He looked at his prominent jaw, blue eyes, bold head and massive arms. He must have liked the peace that was emanating from ex anti-terrorist as suddenly he dropped his voice by few decibels and whispered:

‘I will tell you a secret.’

David and Jack looked at each other in utter surprise. They came to this wilderness to escape from secretes and mysteries. It was meant to be the time of unity with the nature and cleansing for their souls, yet even here in Scheibenkaser, on the slopes of beautiful Untersberg, their fate has caught up with them. Old man did not wait for their approval but in his hush voice, that reminded David of the sound of the whistling forest they walked through all the morning, started his story.

‘Not many people ask us why we live here but there is more to this mountain than meets the eyes. Tourists usually come here to spend few hours in the mountains, but they do not understand the real meaning of this mountain. Do you know anything about it?’

There was a strange tone in this question. Like he expected them to know his secret.

Jack smiled and said:

‘He is history geek, and he chose this mountain. You need to ask him.’ Old man’s eyes turned back to David and started the drill for the second time. David exhaled loudly, looked at the remains of the fresh chunk of bread on the table and after a moment returned the stare saying:

‘I wanted to visit the place simply because it is connected to Barbarossa. I have always loved him.’

Man smiled. His carved in stone features, moved graciously despite his age written on the skin.

‘I thought so,’ he nodded ever so slightly.

‘Why?’

‘I was feeling that the mountain was calling somebody.’

‘What?’ Jack burst out. David looked at the old man in utter surprise, unable to say a word.

‘My secret is simple. Me and my wife, alongside a few other people, who are living around the perimeter of this mountain are the Guardians of Barbarossa.’

‘What do you want to say?’ David tried to comprehend the news.

‘Me, my wife and about twenty or so people are the Guardians of this very mountain. It Is not a choice or punishment. It is a privilege. For almost 900 years there was a secret society maintaining the mountain. Our ancestors were Barbarossa’s knights and they pledged to be ready when he rises again. They swore to be at his side, and they built their houses on the slopes of the mountain. We are looking for this day to come. We will be ready to help him in the final battle…’

‘You must be joking, man?’ Jack was, as always in situations like that, skeptic to say the least, but David was already hooked.

‘Are you saying that this society of knights has survived undetected here around Untersberg for almost a millennium constantly watching for Frederick the First to come back?’ Man nodded without saying a word.

‘I will show you something,’ he got up and walked back to the hut. Travelers were looking at his back disappearing in a low wooden door, then they looked at each other with smiles on their faces. Jack smiled because he found the story hilarious, David smiled because he found it intriguing and captivating. There was something titillating in old man’s story and his behaviour, was it the tone of his voice, his eyes or the distinguish face, that touched his inner soul.

After five minutes the old man came out carrying a black tablet in his hands.

‘I know I look silly. Old man with a tablet, but maintaining all records is much easier on those shiny pieces. Our younger generation has set everything up for us, so we can just fill in the boxes and type the stories at out leisure,’ he said locating himself on his previous place.

For next three hours David and Jack were immersed in the stories of Frederick Barbarossa, King of Germany, King of Italy, King of Burgundy and above all, Emperor of Holy Roman Empire of German Nation. Considered by many historians the greatest Emperor of medieval time. Called by some of his opponents tyrannus teutonicus by others magnificus imperator or even hominum maximus, Barbarossa was the most prominent of the monarchs of twelfth century. Listening to the man, David and Jack have forgotten about their trail, about the magnificent views and the destination they were meant to reach that day. Only after their host said: ‘And therefore we have devoted our lives to serve him,’ they realised how late it had become.

‘What do you think about it?’ Asked Jack when they were climbing down the slopes. Untersberg behind their backs and visible in far distance a small hamlet with their destination for the night: Gasthoff Dürrlehen on the foot of the mount, still two hours away.

‘You saw the same pictures as me Jack. You heard the man say the stories. You cannot deny him.’

‘Yes, but they are just stories, David!’ Jack was having a fun, teasing his friend.

‘Fact is, there are not so many birds around here, are there?’

‘Yes, my apprentice,’ said Jack mimicking the voice of senator Palpatine from Star Wars.

‘Just stop it! Will you?’ David turned back to him and nudged him. Jack did not mind. It was part of their life, their ritual, small trick to relief the stress. They were really good team and they understood each other without saying many words or even despite some. Jack was more sensible and always took those stories with a pinch of salt, whilst David was always eager to dive in into any mystery.

‘I will stop if you admit that you don’t think he will rise again,’ proposed Jack.

David was walking quietly, did not say a word.

‘Come on, you are not serious, are you?’ Jack came closer, looked into David’s face and notice The Look. ‘I know this face. What are you thinking my friend?’ He asked, embracing David with his strong arm and manly pulling him closer.

 ‘I think that it would be great to find him. Don’t you think?’ David’s eyes were burning with fire, face was tense, but there was a childish, innocent and full of hope smile dancing on his lips.

‘You know me. I will do everything for you, my friend, even if it means staying here for few more days and checking every inch of that mountain to make you happy.’

The sun was already touching the horizon and the lime rocks were shining warm red when they entered the warm Gasthoff Dürrlehen. The meal was served in the garden with the magnificent view of the forest and the mountain.

‘I wonder where the entrance to the cave is?’ Said David looking at the impressive green forest covering the lower slopes and lime rocks of the peak. He barely touched his sausages and toasts, constantly thinking about the story he heard.

‘We will find it. No worries,’ Jack seemed untouched and fully confident.

‘How can you say that? I am sure that many others were looking for it and nobody have found it so far.’

‘Agree. It seems they were not like us.’ Jack smiled taking another bite of his grilled German sausage.

‘There are so many visitors to these mountains every year; somebody would have seen something.’ Rebuked David.

‘The mountain called you, not the others.’ Was Jack’s simple answer. He was slowly finishing his plate and took a long sip of his glass of orange juice.  It was nicely cold the glass was covered in droplets of cold water. He smiled, evidently pleased.

‘Hm…’ Pondered David for a second and then noticed: ‘So you do believe him.’

‘Will see, will see.’ Answered Jack and pointed to David’s plate: ‘Now eat. We have got plenty of hiking in front of us if you want to find it…’

*               *            *

Next day they started even earlier than the previous.

They were the first one to leave the Gasthaus. With lunches packed the previous evening, they just washed and left, walking back into the forest in the search for the Sleeping Emperor. Late last night they called Dorothy and asked her to dig some detailed information about birds in the Untersberg area and some strange stories about lonely children around here. First emails with some information came just as they were leaving the shelter and were in line with what the old man said the previous day.

‘She is amazing…’ Noticed David, scrolling through some pictures and maps sent by Dorothy.

For another four days they were walking the mountain in every possible direction. Some trails were covered twice or even three times. When they were on the edge of losing any hope, Jack noticed something. It was a narrow gap between the rocks high on the face of the cliff. It took them almost two hours to safely climb the rocks on their ropes and then they had to pushed themselves through the narrow entrance and into confined corridor leading deep into the belly of the Untersberg massif. Dark corridor split few times. Standing in the crossings they took chances and made marks on the walls to make sure that they would be able to leave this labyrinth of passages alive. They mobile’s torches were barely able to light the space in front of their feet, not to mention the walls or ceilings of the Untersberg long and intertwined intestines.

‘Are you sure we aren’t lost?’ Asked David for the third time.

‘No idea, brother. If we are lost, I am happy to die here with you.’

‘Don’t make it spookier than it already is,’ David’s voice sounded compressed in the small corridor.

 ‘Oh, shit…’ Jack suddenly stopped, and David almost walked into his backpack.

‘What?’

‘Look at this,’ Jack said in a hush voice, like he was afraid that he might wake up a bear or a pack of wolves.

David passed him and looked around. Faint light of his tiny flashlight barely lit few meters in front of him, but he noticed what had stopped his friend in his track.

It was not just a cave anymore.

It was like a small hall.

They walked slowly. Eyes wide opened in absolute surprise, mouths gaped, hands shaking with expectation. There were knights in full armour, standing in attention on both sides of this hall. Carved in stone with every possible detail. Focused, proud to be his guards, ready to be called to final action. The end side was still covered in dark, but with every step they made, the awe and admiration were growing exponentially.

And finally, they stopped in front of an amazing white marble throne occupied by the man himself. Long face, eyes looking forward to the future, crown on his head and sword by his side. Moustache above his thin lips and a long beard were hard to miss. And so was the crown on his head.

‘I cannot believe it,’ whispered Jack. ‘I was happy to help but I have never thought that we would actually find him.’

‘Neither did I.’ David whispered as well. ‘My God. It is magnificent. Simply beyond belief.’

They looked around the cave.

‘How did they accomplish something like that in the middle of twelfth century?’ asked David in hush voice.

‘You are the expert,’ softly said Jack, adding: ‘Why are we actually whispering?’

‘I don’t know. It just seems appropriate,’ answered David and added after a second: ‘Strange though, if you think about it.’

‘Let us go. We need get back to the world of the living,’ quietly said Jack, walking slowly towards the entrance of the hall.

It took them good twenty minutes before they re-emerged from the cave and another two hours before they were safely on the ground, about thirty meters below the tiny gap in the rocks.

‘How did you actually notice it?’ Asked David, looking up and barely seeing the entrance.

‘I suppose the mountain called me as well,’ Jack smiled, showing his white teeth.

Before they left the place, they had shaken cave’s dirt off their clothes, collected all the ropes, hooks and other equipment, making sure there was no sign after their visit.

It was late evening when they crossed the German – Austrian border and walked into St. Leonard, small town on the West side of the Untersberg massif. It took them another thirty minutes to locate Pension Bergfried to check in for the night.

When young black-haired man at the counter saw them entering, he smiled and greeted them in broken Polish: ‘Dzen dobry.’

‘How do you know we are Polish?’ Asked Jack, who suddenly was on high alert.

‘Jürgen, my grandfather told me.’

‘Who?’ This time it was David.

‘So, he did not introduce himself. It is so typical of him.’ The man, who was maybe twenty-five years old smiled warmly. ‘Few days back. The man in the wooden hut?’

‘Oh. Him.’ Realised Jack. ‘So, it was Jürgen, and he is your grandfather?’

‘Yhm,’ agreed the receptionist, taking their ID, passing back the documents and indicating the place for their signatures.   

‘If he is your grandfather then you must be …’ David’s voice hang in the space as he was even afraid to finish his sentence.

‘Guardian?’ Man smiled. ‘Yes. I am,’ he said, not hiding a sound of pride.

David and Jack signed the papers, got the key to their room and were about to turn to walk to the stairs when the receptionist asked:

‘Jürgen said that you would find him. Did you?’

‘No. Not a trace,’ said David picking up his backpack and walking towards the stairs, Jack followed silently. When they entered their room, it was Jack who first noted:

‘You are such a liar, David.’

‘I know,’ said David and fell on the couch exhausted. As soon as he closed his eyes he was back in the cave facing the man who was rising popes to their glory and turning mighty Italian towns to ashes, magnificent emperor Frederick Barbarossa, the mightiest of all Emperors of the Roman Empire of German Nation.

Smile appeared on his face as he drifted to sleep.