by Adam Palmer
Daniel had seen many large and impressive buildings in his time. But nothing could have prepared him for the magnificence of the Vatican Library. The richly veined marble and high vaulted ceilings were everything he expected to see in such a library and more.
He and Ted had entered through the Porta di St. Anna in the via di Porta Angelica, adjacent to the Vatican Library. They were escorted by Swiss guards, in navy blue uniforms, thorough brass doors and up a claustrophobic staircase, that belied the overall scale and grandeur of the place.
Finally they were led into an office where they were greeted by Pierre-Philippe Dubois the Archivist of the Vatican Secret Archives who was also the Librarian of the Vatican Library – the two posts having been held as one since 1957. As he rose to greet them, Daniel and Ted realized that neither of them had won outright the bet that they had made on the aeroplane. They had never seen Dubois before, but Daniel had speculated that he would be of patrician bearing.
Ted, in contrast, who was somewhat older and thus less in awe of senior academicians, suggested that he would look like more of a bespectacled scholar and that the broad shoulders of Daniel’s vision would be replaced by the hunched shoulders of one who spends long hours poring over leather bound codices.
In the event, they exchanged a brief eye-contact and muted smile that acknowledged that the truth lay somewhere in the middle. After the introductions and minted tea all round – consumed well away from any valuable books or manuscripts – the hard questions began.
“So… I understand that you have some things to show me that you feel might be of interest to the Vatican secret archives.”
He was looking at Ted when he said this, assuming that the senior man would speak for both of them. But Ted nodded in Daniel’s direction and it was Daniel who led off, explaining about the manuscript that Martin Costa had found. He didn’t actually mention Costa or the fire or anything to do with the police or being on the run, but he explained that the manuscript was not currently available in its original form.
To make the abstract more concrete, he showed Dubois a glossy laminated colour printout that they had prepared earlier at an internet café and explained precisely what the document was, where it was found, the possible identities of the persons named in it and the fact that surviving fibres established that it was indeed an old Jewish-style parchment.
When he finished speaking, he could tell that Dubois was far from convinced.
“Forgive me for my perhaps unfair scepticism, but a picture of a manuscript that is no longer extant is hardly best evidence. I am well aware of your credentials Professor Klein, and you Professor Hynds, but it would be hard for me to commit to anything more than the mildest of curiosity in the absence of the actual manuscript – or at least a more detailed explanation of why it is no longer available.
Watching him now, Daniel wondered how much he actually knew. They had only phoned when they arrived in Rome, but Monsignor Dubois would surely have checked them out through their academic institutions, even if he remembered Daniel from his recent adventures in Egypt.
Had he also Googled them and found out about Daniel’s brush with the law? Did he know that Daniel was technically a fugitive from British justice? Was there in fact a European or international arrest warrant out for Daniel? And were the Carabinieri closing in on them even as they spoke?
Daniel shifted awkwardly as these doubts and fears enveloped him.
“I’m sorry,” Dubois followed up. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I am simply pointing out that the Vatican would have to study these documents very carefully before coming out with any statement about their authenticity. And in the absence of the original document, there isn’t really much to study.”
Daniel was about to say more, when Ted leaned forward. He didn’t immediately speak or interrupt, but the Archivist picked up on his body language and invited him to join the conversation.
“Professor Hynds.”
“Yes, er well I let my colleague lead off because I’m a firm believer in starting with the hors d’oeuvre rather than the main course.”
Ted paused to give Dubois the chance to acknowledge the humour with a smile. The Archivist was happy to oblige. Ted then spoke in a slow, deliberate tone, explaining about the map, whilst periodically lifting the cardboard cylinder into the air to make Dubois aware that unlike Daniel’s missing ketuba, this was something concrete, real and truly a “bird in the hand.”
The only point at which Ted departed from the pre-arranged script – making Daniel uncomfortable yet again – was when he told the Archivist that he was sure the language was proto-Brythonic, the original language of the Celtic Britons and that he was one of the few who could translate it. This was something he was supposed to hold back, for better leverage. As it was, the Vatican could always seek out other experts, now that Ted’s disclosure had set them in the right direction. But they would have known of Ted’s strengths and specializations anyway.
Finally, Ted opened the cylinder and carefully withdrew the plastic envelope containing the parchment map. It was only when he had carefully unfurled the map and allowed Dubois to inspect it, with watering eyes, that Ted made his move to reel in the catch of the day.
“I understand that you hold in this archive a Jewish-type of parchment containing Hebrew lettering but in an unspecified language. I am going to stick my neck out here and speculate that – like this map – the parchment that was found at Domus Aurea also contained proto-Brythonic text written in the Hebrew alphabet.”
Dubois looked stunned. Ted realized that he had to strike while the iron was hot. So he spoke again, before the Archivist could gather his wits
“Daniel is one of the finest scholars of Semitic alphabets and pronunciation,” he said, subtly shifting the centre of gravity on Daniel’s vocation, to strengthen his point. “And I am one of the few people specializing in the old Brythonic languages, The important thing is that between us we have the skills that few others have. If my conjecture is right and the Domus Aurea parchment contains proto-Brythonic text in the Hebrew alphabet then Daniel can provide the best possible transliteration, which I can then translate. Between us we can reveal a secret that others – and I suspect you also – thought was locked away forever.”
There was an awkward moment, when the archivist seemed lost in the deepest of contemplation, before a smile graced Monsignor Dubois’s lips.
Chapter 57
“We’re going to throw the garbage away,” said May.
“What both you?” asked Bernie, their grandfather.
“Yes, why not? There Mai’s throwing the ordinary garbage and I’m taking the plastic bottles to the recycling bin.”
“Okay but stay on the pavement and watch out for cars.”
Although only eight, in the twenty four hours that they had been here, the twins had shown that since the last time they had come to visit, they had become very grown-up and helpful. It was clear from the beginning that they liked to show how they were not only self-sufficient and capable of doing things for themselves, but also ready to help around the house. They knew that grandpa Bernie and Grandma Helen were no longer as young as they used to be, and so they wanted to show their gratitude towards them by helping them and showing them that they were considerate and eager to help.
So now they were climbing the stairs chattering to each other and listening with curiosity to the sirens in the distance that seemed to be getting closer. At the top of the stairs, they closed the gate and turned right in the sheltered overhang of the buildings, past the end of the row of attached houses and into the bright sunlight.
The long street was not a bus route and in some ways could easily have been mistaken for a cul-de-sac, except that it was in fact open at both ends. But they had no intention of going to the end of the street. After the attached row of houses on the left ran out the street continued towards the green dumpster or “frog” as Israelis called it, with the wire mesh cage for the plastic bottles a few yards before it.
/> All this was perhaps thirty yards away from where they were. To their left was the valley and to their right the street, in which many cars were parked but few in motion. This was not a through road to anywhere else. The only cars that used it were the ones owned by those who lived there or were visiting others who lived there. Everyone else used the high road above the blocks of flats on the right than ran parallel to this street.
So there was nothing to disturb the tranquillity of the twins as they walked at a leisurely pace towards the “frog” laughing, joking and larking about. They didn’t notice the windowless workman’s van that had started just after they closed the gate and was almost coasting along in neutral behind them. But just as they reached the wire cage for the plastic bottle recycling, the vehicle came up next to them and the side door slid open.
They looked round startled as two men reached out and yanked them in. They screamed in terror, or at least tried to. But the men who had grabbed them, clamped large hands over their mouths to stifle their screams. A second later a third man slammed the door shut while the driver, gunned the engine, engaged the gears and lurched forward down the street.
While the sirens entered the street from one end, they were speeding up towards the exit, the roundabout and the road that passed Kiryat Moriah that would take them to the promenade and the heart of the city.
The driver smiled. Because it was a winding road, the police could not even see them. And by the time they had figured out had happened, they would have gone through to Derech Beit Lehem, and become lost in the city traffic.
So swift had they been, that no one had seen what had happened to give a description of their vehicle. By the time, the police figured it out, they would be long gone and they would have the children safely locked away.
Chapter 58
“ My mother… something… the people…. Then there’s a negative… in other words not or no… then there’s a word… how did you pronounce that?”
The threesome were huddled in front of a 30 inch screen displaying a digital copy of the parchment. Dubois had explained that the original had been so badly water damaged that they were lucky to be able to get a clear image of the text. So instead they worked from this image on the large screen at an oak desk in a private room. Despite the Vatican’s venerable age and centuries of tradition, they had some of the most modern technology.
They sat in something that was more than a row but less than a semicircle. Daniel was in the middle with Monsignor Dubois to his left and Ted to his right. Ted had a notebook in front of him and a pen in his hand, so that he could transcribe Daniel’s phonetic transliterations and then work from them.
Staring long and hard at the text, Daniel transliterated again and then gave several alternative pronunciations. Ted scribbled hastily as Daniel spoke. When he had finished transcribing, he pondered the pronunciation for a few moments before trying again.
“My mother… something… the people… not to fear… for we had… and that word you pronounced Undressed-ah.”
“That was just a rough guess, Ted. I don’t really know how it’s pronounced. It could be Endarasheda for all I know.
“I think that’s Andraste… a local pagan goddess. The missing word could be some alternative word for told – not any of the words I know – or it could be a stronger word like urged or exhorted.”
“Can we put it all together in a sentence?” suggested Dubois.
“Yes. Then it would be: ‘My mother exhorted the people not to fear, for we had Andraste on our side.’ And I think I can translate the next sentence. Can you just remind me of the transliteration of the next bit.”
Again Daniel transliterated the Hebrew lettering, imputing vowels according to the placeholder letters and his best guesses. Ted smiled and spoke quickly.
“That ones a lot easier. ‘And they did listen to her words and their courage was strengthened.’” Ted looked up with tears in his eyes. “It’s incredible. It’s all here.”
“It is incredible,” Dubois seconded.
“And it’s clearly from the point of view of her daughter. So it ties in very neatly with the ketuba.”
“But why,” asked Dubois, “would the ketuba be in England and this document here in Rome?”
Daniel and Ted looked at each other and shrugged. Neither of them had a clue. But both realized that the answer may lie in this document itself.
They continued for several hours, to their collective amazement, translating an account that described Boudicca’s final battle and defeat. It turned out that the scale of the battle was much smaller than Tacitus and Cassius Dio had implied. And the text made clear that many of the Iceni and other tribes had returned to their lands before that, driven by hunger and a shortage of food. It also made clear that there were many surviving family members who fled the scene and were not pursued by the Romans.
At one point Ted commented that Tacitus’s first account in the Agricola might have been the more factually accurate and his later writings in the Annals an embellishment. But then the translation took a strange turn. Daniel translated a pair of sentence, and noted – without Ted’s help – that it contained the name Israel. The three of them exchanged mutual glances as they sensed that something big was coming. Ted translated with enthusiasm.
“After our defeat Simon and Aristobulos… something… my mother…”
“Killed?” asked Daniel.
“No it can’t be. Because it goes on: Aristobulos and Simon something her that Andraste was a false God and that if she worshipped only the true God of… Israel…”
There was a break in his voice and he couldn’t continue.
“How does it go on?” asked Daniel.
Dubois leaned back and shook his head at Daniel, warning him to hold back and not to pressure Ted. It was obvious that this was an emotional moment for the Cambridge professor. This was an amazing document for him, He had devoted a huge chunk of his life to finding the site of Boudicca’s final battle and now not only was it clear that he had found it at Arbury Banks, but there was another document here in Rome, apparently written by Boudicca’s daughter and referring to Simon and Aristobulos – the groom and witness respectively from the marriage ketuba that had been found at Arbury Banks by Martin Costa.
Ted forced himself to continue.
“…and that if she worshipped the true God of Israel, he would be her rock of refuge.”
“She converted to Judaism?” asked Daniel.
“It doesn’t say that,” Dubois stepped in. “In those days the God of Israel – from a pagan frame of reference – would have been the Christian God too.”
“Also, we haven’t yet got to her reply Daniel. Can you transliterate the next bit for me.”
Daniel transliterated and Ted transcribed. But as he looked at the text, a sense of awe and amazement broke out over his face. He looked at Daniel and Dubois in silence, as if unable to trust his voice.
“What is it? asked Daniel.
Ted started to speak, coughed to clear his throat and then spoke… even more slowly and deliberately than his usual cautious academic style.
“And so we… received… their God. And Simon… thought or decided or resolved… to fight the Romans in their house.”
Daniel looked at Dubois, then at Ted, then at Dubois again.
“To fight the Romans in their house?”
The Catholic scholar explained.
“Taking the fight to the enemy. Not an unusual tactic in modern warfare. But almost unprecedented in those days.”
Ted stirred uneasily at this.
“Actually, as a tactic in war, it’s not quite as modern most people think. It may not go back to the first century, but in the American revolutionary war – over two hundred years ago – John Paul Jones attacked the port of Whitehaven.”
“It was a bit of a damp squib, if I remember rightly.”
“Technically yes. He had a problem with a mutinous – or at least avaricious crew. But it did undermine British morale.�
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“Does the manuscript give any indication of what they did specifically?” asked Dubois, his tone mildly impatient.
“Let’s see,” said Daniel.
Ted nodded and muttered a pale “Okay.”
Daniel transliterated another sentence or two, Ted struggling to keep up with his phonetic rendition and to distinguish between continuations and alternative pronunciations. After about half a minute, the Cambridge professor had another go at translation.
“And I was given to Simon in marriage and then we hid from the Romans. And after a time we went by the way of the sea to the heart of the enemy to cause pain in her. But Aristobulos said we must fight not with swords but with… the Holy Spirit.”
Again, Ted had to pause.
“ ‘So he went instead to Mona to tell the dru the word of one God so that they might be healed and made strong.”
“The dru?” echoed Dubois. It was for Ted to explain.
“I think that must be the druids.”
Again the three faces met.
“Preaching the Gospels!” said Dubois, excitedly.
“So what does this mean?” asked Daniel. “Putting it all together. Aristobulos, and possibly Simon also, convinced Boudicca and her daughter – or daughters – that the pagan religion of the druids had failed them.”
“The druids were a very powerful force in Romano-Britain until then,” said Ted. “But Boudicca’s defeat and the massacre of the druids at Mona may have led to a desperate reappraisal. And if some one came along offering a plausible alternative, that explained the defeats and setbacks, without giving too much credit to the victors, then the time and conditions were ripe for a religious conversion.”
Daniel had a question.
“This sentence about Aristobulos going to Mona…”
Ted let Daniel’s unfinished question hang in the air for a while before answering.
“There are several traditions associated with Aristobulos of Britannia. That he went somewhere in Wales is one of them.”
Daniel was cogitating.
