Saturday morning following the football game, Schuyler hobbles down the street to Ayana’s driveway. He powers through the pain of slightly bruised ribs, a stiff ankle, and a fresh turf burn on his left elbow. “Just keep moving, your body will loosen up,” he says to himself. She immediately comes out of the house, grabs his arm to turn him around, and starts walking him back to his pickup truck. She promptly gets in the driver’s seat. “Let me get this straight, it’s ok to use my truck but not your car, and you’ll drive either way?” Schuyler asks.
“Yeah, I’m kind of embarrassed to drive my car. Besides, this way it’s easier to go commando!”
Schuyler starts laughing. “I don’t know if you know this, but commando also means without underwear.”
She looks him up and down. “Ok, TMI… but whatever floats your boat.”
“I didn’t mean me…” He decides to let it go. They have arranged to meet Tate at the intersection of Spur Cross Road, and Cave Creek Boulevard for the trek toward the cave. As Ayana veers the pickup down the street on this glorious sunny morning, Schuyler whistles a little song. He’s feeling grateful. The football game was glorious. He scored two early touchdowns, and the sense of acrimony with Mack seemed to fade away.
They reach the appointed intersection and Tate hops into the cab instead of piling into the bed. It’s a stick shift, which makes it a little embarrassing for Ayana as she continually bangs into Schuyler’s left leg. From there, the three head toward a small knoll just south of Elephant Butte, right alongside the ancient Cave Creek stream bed. Off road now, they park when the terrain gets too rough for motorized vehicles.
After a short hike, they approach the knoll just south of Elephant Butte. Tate stops. “There are a couple of things you should know about this area.” Schuyler and Ayana look at each other expectantly. “One, we’re on private property. The landowner doesn’t seem to care, as long as we don’t disrupt anything. Two, the HoHoKams and Tonto Apache’s viewed this as sacred ground, given the soul-prints they’ve left behind. We need to be respectful.” The other two look at each other without saying a word.
The mid-October morning sun crests over the eastern mountain range as they navigate the slightly damp and murky creek bed. “Some creek we have here,” Ayana comments. “And to think this little stream once was the water source for 20,000 HoHoKams.” After clearing the creek bed with now muddy shoes, they pause near some large boulders on the far end of the bank. Schuyler starts getting a feeling. He wanders around the bank.
“Hey, Schuy!” Ayana startles him. “Can you hand me the photocopy of the message? It’s in the outside pocket of my backpack over there.”
“I guess I’m a Sherpa now,” he mutters under his breath. Schuyler does as she asks, then makes his way toward the mouth of the cave where Tate and Ayana are waiting.
“Hang on a minute guys,” Tate interjects. “It doesn’t look like much of a cave anymore, but we need to respect the residents here,” he says pointing to some coyote scat. He kneels down at the mouth of the cave, peers in, and murmurs something. Ayana shoots a smirk at Schuyler who answers with a shoulder shrug. “I want to make sure they know we mean them no harm, but we do need to borrow their home for a little while,” Tate explains.
He continues his rhythmic chant and nods, and then outstretches his hands as if to hug someone. Something scurries around in the shadows inside the mouth of the cave. Ayana and Schuyler slide behind him, just in time as a coyote makes its way cautiously toward the entrance. Schuyler instinctively moves to grab something for protection. “Halt! Follow my lead,” Tate smiles to the coyote maintaining eye contact as he whispers back to Schuyler. Schuyler freezes.
Together, they begin to move slowly in unison over to the right side of the cave entrance so that the coyote can slip out comfortably. Tate lowers his right hand to his side, and gestures toward the sun with his left hand. Bowing its head, the coyote creeps out of the cave, then scampers up into the hills.
“Whoa, what just happened there?” Schuyler asks, with the adrenaline still pumping in his veins.
“I simply asked him if we could take a look around,” he replies. “I had to make it clear that we mean no harm.”
Catching her breath, Ayana quickly shifts gears. She begins to explain an idea about the meaning of the note found in the diary. “ ‘Starting where ye stand, where it all begins’ means starting at the Cave, where the creek bed begins. So I think we should stand here, and read the rest of the clues. The next part says: ‘Face the light and the darkness will be behind ye.’ So we face the sunrise and our shadows are cast into the darkness of the cave. So now we’re facing east. Then it says: ‘With mouth wide open, glance ye away from the slumbering beast.’ Since Elephant Butte is on our left, so north. We need to face south.”
“Impressive,” notes Schuyler. “How in the world did you figure all that out?”
“Tate did the hard part. He pinpointed the cave. It was consistent with what Mr. Potts said about the Dutchman’s last whereabouts. I also glimpsed a note in the diary.”
“Ok, what next?” asks Tate. “I just see rolling foothills to the south.”
“What was the word, gaze, gander, something like that?” Schuyler asks.
“It says glance,” Ayana replies. She reads on: ‘If ye pay attention, ye shall receive handsomely in whatever currency ye seek.’ If we glance, something should catch our attention. All I see are boulders stacked up here against this end of the cave entrance.
“Pay attention, well of course!” exclaims Tate. “That boulder there, it’s jagged, and has an copper tinge. Not round and smooth. It’s not river rock like the others.”
“You’re right, but it doesn’t look light either,” Schuyler exclaims.
Tate bends down and begins to move the boulders surrounding this rock. “Schuy, grab that end. Let’s see if we can roll it over,” he says. Bracing their feet against the base of the cave entrance, the two boys heave away as the rock slowly tears out of the dusty ground beneath it. They manage to roll it a quarter turn before it comes to a stop.
“Hang on, I wonder if this is some sort of ancient grave marker, like the ones Mr. Potts was talking about,” Ayana cautions them.
“I don’t think so,” Tate answers. “Most burial markers had an inscription on the rocks. This one doesn’t.”
“Whoa!” Schuyler exclaims. “Scorpions!” He quickly backs away.
“Oh yeah! There’s a whole nest here isn’t there!” Tate responds with surprising enthusiasm.
Two large scorpions exit the nest, followed by several smaller scorpions, their tails extended for attack, arraying themselves like tanks on a battlefield.
“Ayana, grab a branch from that mesquite tree over there,” Tate instructs. Taking great care, he brushes the scorpions away. “That should buy us a few minutes, but they’ll be back to defend their nest.”
Tate clears more dirt from the rock, but finds nothing. Schuyler walks around the back side of the rock instinctively stamping on the ground so as to flush out any further critters. “Thud.” Ayana and Tate both stop and look at Schuyler. After a quick pause, he thumps the ground again.
“Nice work, Sherlock,” Tate says as he quickly begins clearing away nearly three inches of sandy soil at Schuyler’s feet. Beneath it lays a wooden board. “Hey - there’s a label on it - Mining Powder!”
“Great!” says Ayana. “Dynamite. Don’t be foolish, Tate. There could still be live explosives in there.”
“Most of this wood is just rotted through,” he says. “You’ve got to love termites. Hey look. I think I can grab this plank.” With that, he latches on and pulls a large chunk of the old wooden lid to reveal its contents. They all position themselves to look inside. After clearing away a good layer of sand and dust, a dull metallic glimmer catches the sunlight. “I don’t think that’s explosive. In fact, I think we just found the next clue,” Tate says as he pulls an old canning jar from the wooden crate, and hand
s it to Schuyler.
“Probably vacuum-packed, so the contents should probably be in good shape,” says Ayana.
“Wow, this lid is on tight,” Schuyler groans. “Tate, hold the jar while I try to turn the lid. They wrestle with the jar for nearly a minute, nearly dropping it a couple of times, but it doesn’t budge. Exhausted, they place it on the ground.
“Ok, jocks,” says Ayana. “Let’s try a different approach. Schuy, hand me your belt.” He looks at her, shrugs, pulls his belt off and hands it to her. She takes the belt and deftly forms a makeshift tourniquet around the lid. “Both of you. Hold on tight!” Both boys hold the jar to the ground as she sits on the ground and plays tug of war with the belt.
“Ssssstttt!”
“What was that?” remarks Tate.
“That’s the sound of century-old air, leaving a jar,” she replies. “Oh, looky! Another scroll!”
Schuyler grabs the scroll, and begins to read:
“Congratulations, your quest has delivered you this far, and now the essence of the first Knight Quest will be revealed:
The starting point for all squires and knights is to tune into the perpetual counselor, the internal compass. The compass was the instrument used by explorers to chart their course and stay on the path, and so it is with the accomplished knight. In our knighthood, we endeavor to listen to the part of ourselves that never changes, the silent witness that is connected to the wisdom of the universe. In medieval times a knight would spend days and nights kneeling before an altar or holy shrine in quiet contemplation seeking direction.
We too must pursue our internal direction with equal vigilance, setting out to listen to our hearts, that unseen instrument. Deep within all is this internal navigator, an intuitive sense that permits us to see the wider world and ultimately pursue the path that is true to ourselves. If we sense a quiet harmony or relief, experience light, or come to know love, we’ve made contact with the perpetual counselor.
Scholars disagree as to the source of the internal navigator, but few dispute its existence or its effect. Some call it unconscious mind, others refer to it as an intelligent agent, Universal Mind or even God. This mystery is not for knights to unravel, but as squires we must develop a relationship with it in order to carry out our own missions.
Just as an internal calling brought you to this very scroll, so also must you listen to that inner voice to find your true mission. A holy man once wrote “Know ye not that ye are the temple of the living God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” Along these lines, we must listen to the voice that wells up inside us, and carry out its direction. A great secret has been endowed to us: As Source gave us the unique gift of free will, we must endeavor throughout our lives to constantly give it back to Source. With this paradox, will we achieve what has been intended for us here in knight school.
Different people believe different things about the divine. We welcome this. As knights of light we do not overly concern ourselves with a particular form of inner voice, but understand that it will always call upon us to pursue goodness and love for both ourselves and those around us. We embark upon our mission with absolute loyalty, honor and vigor.
Prosperity, light, and human fulfillment are not measured by external standards such as wealth, but through the guidance of the internal navigator. Budding squires learn to be independent of the fleeting opinions of others. They must employ effective techniques to listen to their own internal voice. It is suggested that they spend at least fifteen minutes each morning in quiet contemplation before the beginning of the day’s events, and the same amount of time before sleep reviewing their progress. Some squires listen to nature, others pray or use meditation techniques to enter into that higher level of consciousness.
We strive for fulfillment by serving others, making our unique contribution. Prosperity, light, and love comes back to us with abundance. The universe provides for us in ways that our own self will could never accomplish. Stay true to these instructions, and you will develop mastery of the first Knight Quest:
Listen to Your Heart
If you have successfully achieved mastery of Knight Quest One, then you will be guided toward Knight Quest Two.
Just short of MCM by half a score, MGM contained light that man was looking for. Yet the real treasure lay undisturbed, concealed by man’s pursuit of ore.
They all pause a moment and gaze at each other with wide eyes. Then Tate begins scouring the surrounding area for more clues, keeping a close eye out for scorpions. Ayana takes a turn, and inspects the scroll. Schuyler sits back on a rock and smiles. The memory of the eagle dream comes back into focus. Large strong talons clutching a scroll, then depositing it near the foundation of a stone structure.
“This is what we’re supposed to share with others – I’m sure of it,” he says to his friends.
“Cryptic as it is?” says Ayana. “Who’s going to listen to this? It’s rather old fashioned don’t you think? We’ll be thought fools, for sure.”
Tate grins at Ayana. “Who cares? Old school is in. It can actually be quite liberating. Besides, we found some pretty receptive kids at the Children’s Hospital? In my mind, we’ve already begun, haven’t we?”
Chapter 14: Sedona Shield
Man’s heart away from nature becomes hard. - Standing Bear