Galata Tower
North of the Golden Horn
Istanbul, Turkey
19 March 2010
‘You’d better be worth all this trouble.’
Lourds looked up from his notebook at Cleena. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you started all this.’
They were sitting in the café near the top of the Galata Tower. Several European and Asian tourists occupied the tables near the windows overlooking the Golden Horn and other historic parts of the city. Lourds couldn’t help but think about the microcosm of East and West meeting inside the café being a reflection of what went on in the city on the other side of the three-foot thick walls. And those meetings had been going on for generations. Some things never changed. Well, didn’t change much, actually. The Galata Tower had also been known as the Christea Turris by the Genoese, which translated into the Tower of Christ. The Byzantines had named it Megalos Pyrgos, the Great Tower, because the cone-shaped stone capping had been – and remained – one of the most recognizable landmarks in the city.
The Genoese had built the tower in 1348 when they’d been expanding their holdings within the city. It had been originally planned as a defensive enhancement, then served as housing for the Janissaries, the elite Turkish Army corps, and later as a jail for war prisoners. Over the years the tower had needed reconstruction a number of times. Partially destroyed by fires and storms, it had lost its cone-shaped top in 1875 and that hadn’t been replaced until a restoration in 1967.
Hezarfen Ahmet Celebi, an early aviator, had glided from the tower over the Bosphorus to the Uskudar foothills in the Anatolian half of the city. That had happened some time around 1632.
Lourds couldn’t imagine launching himself with a pair of wings from the tower. Of course, he couldn’t imagine himself running from gun thugs, either. But throwing oneself from the tower was a conscious decision. Running in the face of death was more of an instinct. As always, he thought about the ancient aviator and respected the man’s drive to discover flight.
The view was wonderful, overlooking the harbour as well as most of the historic old city and several of the most worshipped – literally – sites. Lourds had enjoyed it on several occasions. At the moment, he was more concerned about police intervention. Given a second running gunbattle, he felt certain the Turkish authorities would kick him out of the country as an undesirable. Politely, of course.
Until everything got sorted.
Lourds hoped to have the mystery of the book – Books, he amended, feeling the time crunch of others working on the transcription as well – in hand before the authorities caught up with him. Olympia was on the phone to someone she thought could hide them for a few days but hadn’t seen fit to mention who it was. Matters weren’t helped by the fact that Professor Olympia Adnan was also being sought by the police at present. Several enterprising students at the university had caught the raid on the university on their phones and PDAs. Many of those clips had shown up on YouTube and the local television networks were broadcasting the story.
Cleena sat on the other side of the table and gazed up at the television behind the bar. ‘It’s you everyone is after.’
Lourds tried to turn his attention back to his work, but Cleena sat across from him and he was too aware of her gender to ignore her. He looked back at her and watched as she calmly ate a piece of kabak mucveri, Turkish zucchini fritters, and sipped her bottled water.
‘All right.’ Turning his attention back to the manuscript, Lourds focused on his transcription once more. Sulking he could deal with. Sulking meant silence. Silence meant-
‘I can’t see how you don’t want to talk about this.’ Exasperation tightened Cleena’s voice.
Lourds glanced at her in bewilderment.
‘You said you didn’t want to talk about this,’ he pointed out.
‘I don’t.’
‘All right.’
‘But we have to. That doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy it.’
Sighing, knowing he wasn’t going to be allowed any peace if he didn’t listen to her and take whatever misery she wished to dole out, Lourds leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his beer. He’d opted for Elfes Pilsen, a local lager brewed in Izmir that he’d found particularly pleasing.
‘Do you realize the trouble you’re in?’ she asked.
‘You mean with the local police?’ Lourds countered. ‘Or the United States State Department, who I suspect is working with the local CIA? Or Qayin and his troops? Or the paramilitary unit that tried to kill us at the university a few minutes ago. I can’t guess at who they might be working for. That trouble?’
Cleena hesitated. ‘Yes. That trouble.’
Lourds studied her. ‘You’ve already known about this trouble. There’s something you’re not telling me.’
Cleena leaned back and broke eye contact. ‘No there’s not.’
‘Why were you at the university today?’
‘I told you. I was tailing you.’
‘For whom?’
‘No one.’
‘I don’t believe you were there on your own.’
‘Why?’ Fire glinted in Cleena’s eyes. ‘Don’t you think I’m smart enough to figure out there’s a pay out involved in this?’ She flicked her gaze at the book. ‘I’m just here for a share in the profits.’
Lourds placed a hand on the book. ‘You haven’t tried to take it.’
Cleena looked sullen but didn’t say anything.
‘My guess is that you haven’t a clue about whom to take this to in order to sell it. Or even what it’s worth.’
‘I could sell it to Qayin.’
Lourds smiled. ‘And he proved so trustworthy the first time.’
She said a particularly bad word only loud enough for Lourds to hear her.
‘And I don’t think the men back at the university are looking for more partners,’ Lourds said. ‘Not to mention the fact that you’ve pretty much burned that bridge by shooting a few of them.’
‘There are other collectors.’
‘A collector wouldn’t be interested in this manuscript unless he-’
‘Or she.’
Lourds acknowledged the response with a nod, but he knew she only delivered it to be more annoying. ‘Or she knew the story behind the book. Which you also don’t know.’
Cleena grimaced at him. ‘Enjoying your little secrets, Professor?’
‘I think we all are.’ He took another sip of his beer and leaned across the table. ‘And then there is the matter of the little friend in your ear. Want to tell me about him? Or her?’
She drained her water bottle and stood. ‘I’m going to get a refill. Want one?’
‘Please. If you think you can refrain from spitting in it.’
‘Actually, I hadn’t thought about it. Until now.’ She headed for the bar.
Lourds watched her go and admired the twitch of her lean hips. The motion was definitely hypnotic and intriguing.
Olympia slid into the chair next to him and shook her head. ‘My God, Thomas. You haven’t changed a whit. Here we are running for our lives, not to mention that you’ve been keeping me company in bed the last few days, and you’re ogling that young girl as though this was your last day on earth.’
‘Sorry.’ Lourds felt his face flush with heat. ‘Ogling is one of those male traits that I’m afraid is hardwired into every cell of my being. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.’
She smiled at him. ‘No disrespect taken. I’ve known what you were from the day I met you. That’s been part of the attraction, actually.’
Lourds lifted an enquiring eyebrow.
‘A red-blooded male who doesn’t feel the need to take over or change your life is the dream of many professional women,’ Olympia explained. ‘The fact that you’re a tender and caring lover is a bonus.’
‘Well, I’m glad you feel that way.’
‘What I don’t understand is how you can let some lovely little girl twist your head round when you should be concentrating on keeping it firmly on your shoulders. After all, there seems to be no shortage of people willing to remove it for you.’
‘Not all of my interest is in ogling,’ Lourds said. ‘I’m concentrating fully – well, almost fully – on the task of surviving this debacle. That young lady presents mysteries – and perhaps dangers – of her own.’
Olympia sipped her wine and gazed at Cleena. ‘Like for whom she works?’
‘Exactly.’
‘She was working for Qayin. But that’s obviously over, isn’t it?’
‘Qayin didn’t want to see her survive their first joint venture,’ Lourds replied. ‘I don’t see a future version of that partnership in the offing.’
‘Then do you suspect she’s here on her own at this juncture?’
Lourds shook his head. ‘She’s working with someone, but I don’t think it’s who she’s working for. She’s a professional. A professional wouldn’t have an investment in this. There’s too much she doesn’t know.’
‘She’d be better off getting clear of the city. And us.’
‘I agree.’
‘Then why isn’t she?’
‘Because,’ Lourds said, ‘for whatever reason, she doesn’t have a choice. An investment is there and she’s not happy about it.’ He smiled at Olympia. ‘I really think that’s one of the reasons she doesn’t like me.’
Olympia chuckled. ‘Why, Professor Lourds, I do think that you’re upset by that.’
‘No. She’s already made it quite clear that she isn’t interested.’
Tsking with feigned sympathy, Olympia trailed her fingers through his hair. ‘Oh, you poor dear. That must have hurt deeply.’
‘I’ll live. But the question remains, what do we do with her?’
Olympia drew her hand back and raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘You’re actually thinking of letting her accompany us?’
‘Unless I can figure out everything involved with this book, us isn’t going to be going anywhere.’
‘Nonsense. You’ll figure this out. I have faith in you. That’s why I asked you to come.’
Lourds gestured at the television hanging over the bar. Scenes from the university played again, followed by still photographs of Olympia and Lourds.
‘We’re running out of clock,’ he said.
‘Personally, I think we need to ditch her. I know the kind of woman she is. She’ll only bring you – us – trouble.’
Lourds pierced her with his gaze and he spoke in a low, friendly tone. ‘I suppose it doesn’t strike you that the same could be said about you? You brought me here and immersed me in this whole fiasco, and very nearly got me killed without giving me a choice in the matter.’
Olympia’s features softened and she looked guilty. She smoothed a stray lock of hair from Lourds’ forehead. ‘I really didn’t intend for this to happen, Thomas. I thought your part in this would already be done. I had no idea anyone else knew you were coming.’
Lourds captured her hand and tenderly kissed her palm. ‘I don’t doubt that for a moment, Olympia. And I have to admit, I find this quite exhilarating. This is the kind of work I’m meant to do.’
‘Like with the Atlantis search?’
Lourds smiled. ‘I rather hope this doesn’t turn out to be that dangerous.’
‘The fate of the world,’ she reminded him.
‘I cling to the belief the case is rather overstated. After all, nearly two thousand years have passed. Surely the stakes have been exaggerated by the passage of time.’
Olympia glanced back at the bar. ‘Either way, that young woman’s going to complicate matters if she stays around.’
At the bar, Lourds saw Cleena watching their reflections in the mirror. She was talking, but he knew she wasn’t talking to herself.
‘She stays,’ he declared.
‘That may not be your decision to make,’ Olympia replied.
Lourds waited a beat. ‘If you want me working with you, Olympia, this is how we’ll do it.’
His sudden resoluteness about the subject caused her to cock her head in surprise. ‘And if I say no?’
‘Then I’ll take what I already know and continue working on my own. I’m quite hooked on this project – as you doubtless counted on.’
‘What if I turn you over to the authorities and you get deported?’
‘Then,’ Lourds said, ‘I’ll find out if news agencies are interested in this book and the story behind it. The fate of the world, and all that.’
‘You wouldn’t.’ Olympia looked shocked and pulled her hand free of his.
‘You know me. You know I would. If I talk loudly enough long enough, especially about an artefact written by John of Patmos, the Turkish government may see fit to invite me back in and give me whatever resources I need to see this project through to completion.’
‘You’ve never been a blackmailer.’
‘With you, no. And I do hope it doesn’t come to that. But there is the matter of me getting shot at and taken captive. And all the curiosity you’ve built up without quite ever telling me everything you know.’ Lourds paused. ‘At this point, I’ll do what I have to.’
‘You can’t.’
‘Because the fate of the world depends on finding the Joy Scroll?’
Olympia didn’t answer.
‘You can’t have it both ways, love. Either this document needs to be found quickly, and I’m the right man to do the job, or neither of those things is true. Which is it?’
Obviously angry, Olympia folded her arms. ‘Bringing her along is going to be dangerous.’
‘Having her dogging our trail would be dangerous as well. For her and for us. If she’s with us, we can at least keep an eye on her, and maybe find out who she’s working for. That could prove important to know while we put the rest of this puzzle together. This isn’t just you and the people you represent, or Qayin. Someone else knows about the Joy Scroll and we need to know who that is.’ He paused to sip his beer. ‘Besides that, she’s handy with weapons in a fight.’
At the bar, Cleena paid for the drinks, then turned and came back to the table. As she sat down, she looked at Lourds and Olympia. The tension between them was palpable and showed in the woman’s tense posture. Evidently things hadn’t gone as the lady professor had planned. That pleased Cleena no end.
‘Lover’s quarrel while I was gone?’ Cleena asked.
‘Not hardly.’ Lourds accepted his new beer and surreptitiously examined the surface for any signs of foreign materials.
‘Please.’ Cleena rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not that juvenile.’
‘You have acknowledged that you’re incredibly young,’ Lourds pointed out.
‘We were discussing the possibility of you coming with us,’ Olympia stated bluntly.
‘That isn’t a possibility,’ Cleena replied. ‘That’s a fact.’
Olympia smiled sweetly, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. ‘We weren’t sure if you still wanted to go after everything that’s happened.’
Calmly, Cleena met the older woman’s gaze full measure. ‘Are you thinking about dropping out of this little treasure hunt?’
‘It’s not,’ Olympia insisted through gritted teeth, ‘a treasure hunt.’
‘Whatever.’ Cleena flicked her gaze to the book in front of Lourds. ‘But I’m betting you didn’t invite the professor over for a little slap and tickle and a wild goose chase.’
Crimson briefly coloured Olympia’s cheeks before she regained her composure. ‘What Thomas and I have between us isn’t so cavalier as you propose.’
‘Please,’ Cleena protested. ‘I’m trying to keep my drink down. What you and the professor do in the sanctity of your borrowed hotel room isn’t any business of mine.’
‘Yet you were a peeping Tom.’
She has you there, Sevki said into Cleena’s ear. Cleena’s face burned for just a moment.
‘Learn anything?’ Olympia taunted.
‘Only that wine and cheese are probably the only things that get better with age.’
Oh, that’s cold, Sevki said.
Looking both irritated and discomforted, Lourds cleared his throat. ‘Ladies, perhaps we should stick to the agenda.’
Olympia crossed her arms and glared at Cleena. ‘If you’re looking for some sort of profit, you’re going to be sadly mistaken.’
Cleena sipped her water. ‘I know you and I don’t hang out in the same social circles, but I can tell you one thing I’ve learnt, and that is that people don’t kill each other for nothing. Whatever this thing is you’re looking for, somebody plans to profit from it. Money will be involved. Eventually.’
That, she knew, was inarguable.
Lourds followed Olympia through the narrow streets. Many of the older buildings were in their original unaltered state and dated back several centuries despite the times the city had been conquered. Street vendors occupied corners and hawked their wares.
Galata had been colonized by the Republic of Genoa in 1273. According to legend, the name had been taken from Calata, which roughly translated as ‘downward slope’. The city had also been called Pera, taken from an old Greek name that meant ‘the fig field on the other side’, referring to the Bosphorus between the two halves of the city. Most of the walls of the medieval city had been torn down first during the Fourth Crusade, when Christians fought Christians and the line had been drawn between the Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church. The remaining walls had nearly all been destroyed under Muslim rule in the nineteenth century to allow further urban expansion.
Glancing over his shoulder, he checked on Cleena. The young woman trailed him by a couple of strides and looked alert. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
‘Have you been to Istanbul before?’ he asked.
She glanced at him. ‘Making conversation?’
Lourds shrugged.
‘Yes, I have,’ she acknowledged after a moment. ‘A few times.’
‘I love the older parts. This city has a lot of history written into it.’
‘Is that what this hunt is all about? History?’
‘Yes.’
Cleena smiled at him. ‘But you’re not saying which history. The Greeks, the Romans or the Ottoman Empire.’
‘Many other cultures have lived here,’ Lourds replied.
‘But those are the big three.’
‘So they are.’
They paused at the ruins of the Palace of the Genoese, which was called the Palazzo del Commune, the Palace of the Municipality behind Bankalar Caddesi on Banks Street, which featured several Ottoman-era finance structures.
‘What have you learned from the book?’
Lourds stepped round a small group of children playing at the curb. ‘Maybe this isn’t the time to talk about it.’
‘Really? I was thinking this was the perfect time. You know, before we get to wherever we’re going?’
Lourds resettled his hat on his head and shifted his backpack over his shoulders. He didn’t say anything.
‘You do know where we’re going, don’t you?’ Cleena asked. ‘Your girlfriend did tell you, didn’t she?’
‘Somewhere safe,’ Lourds replied. ‘I’m also quite sure that Professor Adnan wouldn’t appreciate being referred to as my girlfriend.’
‘I think main squeeze would be less appreciated, don’t you?’ Cleena smiled sweetly.
Lourds chose not to respond.
‘This place we’re heading, is it somewhere you think is safe? Or somewhere she thinks is safe?’ Cleena asked.
Lourds was certain that no matter what he answered, it was going to lead to an argument.
At that moment, six men gathered round a cart of melons turned towards the trio. Lourds caught sight of them from the corner of his eye. Cleena spotted the men as well and reached under the lightweight shirt she had hanging outside her jeans.
‘Don’t!’ Olympia ordered. She walked back towards Lourds and Cleena.
Adrenaline cascaded through Lourds’ bloodstream at the men’s approach. He sought the quickest avenue of escape, but the street was packed.
Cleena had her pistol in hand out of sight beside her thigh.
‘They’re friends.’ Olympia stepped between the men and Cleena.
Personally, Lourds thought that an extremely foolish move. Cleena probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Olympia first. Before he could stop himself, Lourds stepped between Olympia and Cleena. Now this – this is stupid.
‘Perhaps,’ he suggested while mentally chastising himself, ‘you could introduce us to your friends…’ His voice trailed off as he recognized one of the young men in front of them from the catacombs. It was the man who had been dressed in monk’s robes and who had led him to safety. Today there was no robe. Instead, he wore khaki cargo pants, white and navy Chuck Taylors and a Coldplay concert T-shirt.
‘Thomas,’ Olympia said almost brightly, ‘I suppose you’ve already met Joachim.’
‘Not formally, no.’ Lourds didn’t know whether to extend a hand in greeting or take a step back. Only that would have made him an even bigger target for Cleena.
Joachim kept his face sombre and nodded. ‘Good afternoon, Professor Lourds. You have been highly spoken of.’
‘Thank you. I wish I could say the same of you.’
Olympia took the young man by the arm and smiled. For a brief instant, something close to jealousy flared through Lourds.
‘I know you’ve never met,’ Olympia said. ‘But I’m glad the two of you do have this chance. I just wish it had been under better circumstances.’
‘What does he have to do with this?’ Lourds asked.
‘Joachim is going to help us,’ Olympia explained.
‘How do you know that you can trust him?’ Cleena asked.
‘Because Joachim is my brother.’
Now that he was given more time and wasn’t as stressed out, Lourds could see the family resemblance between Olympia and Joachim. Her brother was younger than she was, although older than Lourds had first thought in the catacombs, but surely no more than late thirties.
After meeting them in the street, Joachim had guided them to an apartment building. He had rooms set up on the third floor. In addition to sleeping quarters for Lourds, Olympia, Cleena and the men, there was a sizeable kitchen and dining room, as well as a large room equipped with a conference table and computer hardware, including a satellite uplink.
‘Have you eaten, Professor Lourds?’ Joachim asked politely.
‘Not since breakfast with your sister,’ Lourds answered. ‘I had planned to take her to dinner before we were interrupted at the university.’ He put his backpack on the floor next to one of the chairs at the conference table.
‘The gunmen,’ Joachim said.
‘That would be the reason.’ Lourds sat at the table and took out the book from his backpack.
Joachim sat across from Lourds. ‘Olympia said you had no idea who the men were.’
Lourds shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Nor for whom they might be working?’
‘They were Americans. Is there any reason why the American government would be interested in this manuscript?’
‘If they knew what it represented, perhaps. If someone there ascribed to the same beliefs you and Olympia have.’ When no further explanation was forthcoming, Lourds said, ‘Because the fate of the world depends on what’s in these pages.’ He raked the ball of his thumb along the book’s pages.
Olympia sat across the table next to her brother. She frowned a little. ‘Thomas is having a little trouble believing that.’
Cleena sat with a chair between herself and Lourds. She sipped from a bottle of water, remaining quiet and watchful.
Joachim rubbed his hands together, and for the first time Lourds realized how heavily calloused they were. ‘Let me assure you, Professor, you don’t need to be a believer to help us. If you can translate that manuscript that’s all the assistance we need.’
‘You expect this to tell you where the Joy Scroll is?’
‘It will.’ Joachim’s voice carried conviction. ‘You will see.’ He took a minute to ask one of the men to prepare a meal, then turned back to Lourds. ‘We can’t very well work on empty stomachs.’
Within minutes, the smell of spices and cooking lamb filled the rooms. Lourds’ stomach growled in anticipation. He nursed a cold beer as the conversation continued.
Joachim was attentive, like a student preparing for a final.
‘You can’t read this?’ Lourds asked.
‘No,’ Joachim answered.
‘Can any of your people decipher it?’
Polite impatience flickered across Joachim’s face. ‘I assure you, if anyone among us could read that book, Olympia would not have involved you in this matter.’
‘How long has the knowledge in the book been lost?’
‘Since the time of Constantine.’
‘How did it become lost?’
‘You’re familiar with the history of this city.’
Lourds nodded.
‘In addition to the wars that have been fought over and throughout Istanbul, there have also been many natural disasters. Earthquakes. Fires. Even the passage of time has served to hide the scroll as the city fell and was raised up again and again by succeeding generations.’
‘If the scroll was written on Patmos-’
‘It was. Our histories are very clear about that.’
‘Then how did the scroll come to be here?’
‘During Constantine’s reign, he sent out many search parties to locate and take into custody relics of Jesus Christ’s life as well as early Christianity. As you know, the Roman Empire tried to suppress our religion during its infancy. They failed, but many precious things were scattered or destroyed or lost to us.’
‘Those were turbulent times,’ Lourds agreed. ‘Emperor Constantine wanted to safeguard Christianity.’
‘One of the people searching for Christian artefacts was Helena, Constantine’s mother,’ Joachim said. ‘She also had a strong belief and a strong desire to protect holy things. During her travels, she discovered the Brotherhood of the Scroll and went to the island of Patmos to negotiate on behalf of her son. Constantine only wanted the documents protected.’
‘As strong as his rule looked, and as deeply entrenched as he was in Eastern Orthodox Christianity, it would’ve made sense.’ Lourds constructed a timeline on a page of his personal journal. ‘So the Joy Scroll remained on the Island of Patmos for almost four hundred years after it was authored.’
Joachim nodded.
Helena had been a powerful figure in Emperor Constantine I’s courts. Historians attributed the discovery of the relics of the True Cross to her and her efforts to find them. The Chapel of Saint Helen, constructed to identify the Burning Bush of Sinai, had been erected on her orders. During a dig under the temple to Venus built near Calvary over the site of Jesus Christ’s tomb, her people had found three crosses. One of them was supposed to be the cross Jesus was crucified on, while the others held the thieves. According to the stories, Helena had taken a diseased woman from Jerusalem to touch the crosses. Upon touching the third cross, the woman had recovered from her ailment. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre had been built on the site, and more churches on holy sites followed thereafter. Legend had it that Helena had discovered the nails from the cross as well. Back home, she had got a blacksmith to put one in Constantine’s helmet, and another in his horse’s bridle.
‘How did Helena persuade the Brotherhood to give up the scroll?’ Lourds asked.
‘Her presence there told them the scroll was no longer safe. In those days, the Brotherhood was trained only in the ways of peace. If they had tried to defend the scroll, they would have died.’
Lourds glanced at Joachim’s calloused hands. ‘Now the Brotherhood is different?’
Sadness flickered across the other man’s face. ‘Over the years, the Brotherhood has become forced to become more than it was ever intended to be. We hang onto our peaceful nature, but we’re unafraid of violence.’
‘So you’re killers?’ Cleena asked. ‘That doesn’t make you sound much better than Qayin and his people.’
‘No!’ Joachim slapped the tabletop with his open palm hard enough to jar their drinks. ‘We do not kill. The Brotherhood has never taken a human life.’
Lourds noticed the modifier but decided not to ask.
‘If you don’t kill,’ Cleena pointed out, ‘it’s going to be hard to put up a fight.’
Joachim looked at her. ‘An incapacitated foe can’t fight any better than a dead one. We have trained ourselves to incapacitate those who threaten the scroll. We don’t have to kill to achieve our goals.’
‘Altruism aside,’ Cleena said, ‘not killing the people who are after us is going to put you at a decided disadvantage.’
‘Don’t you mean “put us”?’ Olympia asked.
‘No, I don’t.’ Cleena’s voice was perfectly neutral, but the threat was naked in her words.
Lourds sought safer conversational ground. ‘Helena convinced the Brotherhood to move the scroll?’
‘It looked like a win-win situation for the Brotherhood and Constantine,’ Olympia stated. ‘At the time of the scroll’s arrival, along with the Brotherhood, Constantine was building the Megale Ekklesia.’
‘What’s that?’ Cleena asked.
‘The literal translation is Great Church,’ Lourds answered. ‘Constantine started building it during the fourth century. He didn’t live long enough to see it completed.’
‘But he did live long enough to hide the scroll,’ Joachim said.
‘In the church?’ Distress filled Lourds. ‘The original church was destroyed a little over forty years later.’
‘Forty-four years. The church was built in 360 AD and destroyed in 404 AD.’
Lourds waved a hand in acknowledgement. If he had known where he was supposed to be looking, he would have known the dates too. Scholars didn’t have to know everything. All they had to know was where to find everything.
‘John Chrysostom was appointed archbishop of the Church of the Holy Wisdom, as the Great Church was named in those days by Constantine-’
‘In 398 AD,’ Joachim interrupted.
Lourds sipped his beer. ‘I suppose there’s a lot of rote work in the Brotherhood.’
Joachim smiled.
‘While holding his office,’ Lourds went on, ‘John Chrysostom ran foul of Theophilus, who was Patriarch of Alexandria at the time, and Emperor Arcadius’s wife-’
‘Aelia Eudoxia,’ Joachim supplied.
‘Thank you. With the patriarch, John Chrysostom refused to bow down, and with the empress, John Chrysostom took to task women who chose to flaunt their wealth in clothing. The patriarch and the empress arranged the Synod of the Oak in 403 AD and banished John Chrysostom. The people became enraged and demanded that he be returned to his position.’
‘There was more to it than that,’ Joachim said. ‘On the very night that John Chrysostom was arrested, an earthquake occurred. Many people, including the empress, believed it was a sign from God.’
Lourds thought he remembered something like that, but wasn’t certain. ‘During that confrontation, the first Church of the Holy Wisdom was destroyed.’ He studied Joachim. ‘How are you sure that the Joy Scroll wasn’t incinerated in the fire that claimed the church?’
‘Because the Joy Scroll was hidden in the maze of tunnels beneath the church.’
‘Beneath the church?’ Lourds rubbed at the stubble that covered his jaw. ‘Not in the church?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Then why haven’t you found the Joy Scroll before now? Your Brotherhood has had sixteen hundred years to accomplish that.’
‘Because for many years we weren’t supposed to find it. Emperor Constantine and a few members of the Brotherhood knew the hiding place where the scroll was kept. Despite being in a land where everyone felt the scroll was protected, the emperor and the elder brothers knew that many enemies remained outside the city walls. The choice was made to keep the number of people who knew where the scroll was to a handful. Each generation in turn handed down the knowledge of the scroll to only a few people. That number was cut further after the Nika Riots.’
‘The war between the Blue and the Green,’ Lourds said.
‘Yes.’
‘What is the War between the Blue and the Green?’ Cleena asked.
‘During this time, the early 530s, I believe,’ Lourds said.
‘532,’ Joachim supplied, then smiled. ‘It is as you say. A lot of rote work.’
‘There were a lot of social associations called demes. They supported the different teams that competed in chariot racing and other contests.’
‘You mean like bookies?’ Cleena asked.
‘Nothing so small,’ Olympia said. ‘Think of the demes like long lines of political parties and street gangs. It wasn’t just about the sporting events. They actively pursued social issues of the times and fought against those they didn’t like. Battles often broke out in the streets between the different groups and the emperor’s soldiers.’
‘To make matters worse,’ Lourds said, ‘many of those demes were patronized by Roman aristocrats. Several of them believed they deserved the throne more than Emperor Justinian, who currently held the throne. There was a riot in 531 that resulted in murder. Members of the Blues and Greens were arrested and held accountable. Most of them were hanged. However, early in 532…’ He looked at Joachim.
‘On the tenth of January, to be exact,’ Joachim said.
‘One of the Blues and one of the Greens managed to thwart their guards and flee into the crowd that had already formed to protest against the hangings. Already stretched thin between internal strife and negotiations with Persia, Justinian elected to rescind the death sentences and give the men life sentences.’
‘I assume they didn’t take it,’ Cleena said.
‘No,’ Lourds agreed. ‘The chariot races took place at the Hippodrome next to the palace and the Church of the Holy Wisdom. During the course of the day, violence broke out and swelled into a riot that lasted five days and left the second church burned to the ground.’
‘And still the Joy Scroll remained hidden,’ Joachim said.
‘Hidden or lost?’ Lourds countered.
‘Hidden only. But, as I said, the Brotherhood decided to limit the number of people who knew the Joy Scroll’s hiding place.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the city seemed to be in chaos. There were enemies outside the gates and unrest throughout the streets. It was feared that if anyone knew the power of the scroll and its whereabouts, there would be no stopping those who came after it. The Elders locked themselves away in the underground tunnels. Those that were chosen never again saw the light of day.’
‘That’s insane,’ Cleena whispered.
Lourds didn’t disagree, but he knew that the practice wasn’t unique.
‘Ultimately that proved their undoing, didn’t it?’ Lourds asked. ‘Too few people with the knowledge, and all of them grouped in one place.’
‘They did the best they were able,’ Joachim said. ‘They thought what they were doing was the best and safest thing to do.’
‘The Brotherhood just hadn’t counted on the Fourth Crusade,’ Lourds said.
‘Maybe I’m misunderstanding here,’ Cleena said, ‘but weren’t the Crusades fought between the Muslims and the Christians?’
‘Yes,’ Lourds said, ‘and no. At the outset, the Fourth Crusade was supposed to be an invasion of Muslim Jerusalem by way of Egypt. Instead, The Roman Catholic Church chose to invade and sack Constantinople. The siege and battles lasted five years. At the end of that time, much of Constantinople lay in ruins. Thousands of citizens were dead in the street or displaced from their homes. Everything of value that the crusaders could find was taken.’
‘But they didn’t get the scroll,’ Joachim said quietly.
Lourds looked at the man. ‘You’re sure about that?’
‘The world still stands and spins in her orbit, Professor Lourds. That’s how I know. Once that scroll reaches the wrong hands, all we know will be lost. I promise you that.’
‘What happened to the Elder brothers?’
‘They stayed in the tunnels below the church. Their guards were slain, but they managed to lock themselves into a small sanctuary. They starved or thirsted to death before anyone could reach them. Much treasure was found, or I should say lost in those tunnels where the king’s soldiers tried to hide it, but the Joy Scroll remains.’
For a moment, Lourds thought about everything Joachim had revealed. Then he tapped the book in front of him with a forefinger.
‘Where’d you get this?’ he asked.
‘Most of the documents in that book were written after the Elders were known to be dead. Some of the papers were copied from notes they had managed to write and leave in a crack in the ceiling of the room where they died.’
Images of the abandoned monks filled Lourds’ mind. What must it have been like to be closed up in a tomb while thirsting and starving to death?
And all you had to do to be free was share one secret.
Lourds didn’t think he could have done it. Then again, he hadn’t thought he would be able to steal the book from Qayin and his followers either.
Yet he had.
‘I’ve been patient so far, Professor Lourds, out of respect for what you have done and gone through, and because my sister believes in you,’ Joachim said.
‘I told you if anyone can do this, Thomas would be the one,’ Olympia said in Turkish.
‘English,’ Cleena stated. ‘Speak English for the slow kids.’
Olympia repeated her comment in English, which only drew a snort from Cleena.
‘I need you to prove to me that you can help us.’ Joachim’s dark gaze held Lourds. ‘Can you do that?’
Lourds nodded. ‘I can, but first I need you to do one more thing for me.’
Joachim leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, obviously displeased.
Ignoring the man, Lourds opened the book to the page with the rubbing. He indicated the image.
‘This. I need to know where you got this.’
Joachim shook his head. ‘There’s nothing there.’
‘You’ve found nothing there.’ Lourds leaned back in his own chair. ‘I will.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
‘This rubbing was taken from a stone in the room where the older monks gave their lives to protect the secret of the Joy Scroll.’
Olympia turned to her brother. ‘Is that true?’
Holding his gaze steadily on Lourds, Joachim didn’t answer.
‘Joachim?’
Finally, Joachim nodded. ‘That was where it was found. But you could only be guessing that.’
Lourds turned back a few pages and tapped again. ‘This is one of the pages that were also found in that room. Or am I still just guessing?’
Joachim stared at the page, then back at Lourds. ‘How do you know this?’
‘Because I can read this page now.’ Lourds couldn’t help smiling at his obvious success, especially when Joachim’s eyes widened still further. ‘Would you like to know what it says?’