St Paul's Labyrinth

by Jeroen Windmeijer

  ‘It’s … well, I’ve given it a lot of thought,’ Peter said. He hadn’t expected any resistance. ‘It’s a long story, but I’ve reached a new phase in my life. A fresh start, you could say. I don’t want to give you my whole life story, but—’

  ‘You should hear some of the secrets people tell me while they’re sitting in that chair. You could make a whole TV series out of them.’

  ‘Cut!’ Peter joked.

  ‘Yes, that would be a good name for it. But anyway … A new spring, a new hairstyle,’ the barber said, relenting.

  ‘And a shave please.’ As far as Peter knew, this was the only place in Leiden where you could get a shave.

  ‘As you wish.’

  The barber helped Peter into a cape, draped a long, white cloth around his neck, then clicked an attachment onto some hair clippers. ‘This is a centimetre,’ he said, ‘and I won’t go any shorter. Any less than that and you’d be practically bald.’

  Peter nodded.

  Ten minutes later, he was finished.

  ‘It’s not really much of a challenge, this sort of hairstyle,’ the man said, sounding disappointed. ‘But I can at least take pride in being able to give you a good shave. It’s a disappearing art.’ He wet Peter’s face and neck, and then covered them with a soapy lather.

  Peter closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm water and the way the barber’s fingers gently massaged his skin.

  He worked silently, taking more time than he had for the haircut.

  Peter had been so caught up in looking for Judith that he hadn’t had a chance to stop and think about how insane this whole thing was. He had been chosen, Raven had said. But who had chosen him? On what basis? And why did they have to kidnap Judith because of it? Was it some sort of initiation? You surely couldn’t initiate someone against their will. And why were there also people trying to murder him? But he couldn’t go back now. He had to try to find Judith as soon as possible.

  What was his next step supposed to be? According to the web search he’d done at the Observatory, the next clue would have something to do with the Sun-Runner. After that came the Father. But where would he find a Sun-Runner?

  The Sun-Runner was also called Heliodromus or Heliodromos, which, based on the small amount of Greek he knew, could mean ‘path of the sun’ … At high school, he’d made a solar motion demonstrator on an astronomy course. The little paper gadget modelled the sun’s path across the sky, demonstrating how it changed according to the location and time of year. The path the sun took across the sky was actually dependent on your position as well as the season.

  Sun-Runner, Heliodromus, path of the sun …

  The most obvious place to look would be the Boerhaavemuseum, the Dutch National Museum for the History of Science and Medicine. It held a vast collection of objects from the history of science, including Willem Blaeu’s giant quadrant, Antoni van Leeuwenhoek’s famous microscopes, and Christiaan Huygens’ pendulum clocks. It also housed scale models of the solar system. And solar motion demonstrators.

  Peter looked in the mirror. His exhaustion was written all over his face. The wrinkles on his forehead looked deeper than ever.

  Freshly shorn and shaved, he hardly resembled the man who had walked into the barbershop just twenty minutes earlier. He was finished even sooner than the customer who was already being served when he arrived. He gave the barber a satisfied smile as he brushed the tiny hairs from his neck and unfastened the cape.

  He paid with cash. The barber said goodbye, then grabbed a broom to sweep up the hair on the floor.

  Peter reached for his coat on the hat stand, then stopped. He looked around. The barber was concentrating on sweeping the floor. His colleague was still cutting the hair of the customer who had arrived before him. In one fluid movement, Peter swept both the trench coat and the baseball cap off the hat stand and made his way outside with them.

  As he walked down the alley, he put on the long coat, jammed the cap down low over his eyes, and kept his head down. His disguise was so good that he felt brave enough to head towards the busy Breestraat. All Clark Kent had needed to do to hide his identity from Lois Lane was put on a pair of glasses. Compared to that, this was a complete metamorphosis.

  He walked along the Breestraat, staying close to the shop fronts, until he arrived at the town hall half way down the street. Then he crossed over to the V&D department store and the building site that was part of the Aalmarkt redevelopment project. He turned right into the Vrouwensteeg, and went over the canal at the end of it via the Kippenbrug. He passed the organic greengrocer’s where he bought a seasonal vegetable box every week, then went across the Haarlemmerstraat to the Vrouwenkerksteeg where the Kijkhuis cinema stood.

  This route brought him close to the courtyard where Judith and Mark lived. He had come full circle, in a way. Did this mean he was on the right track?

  He had thought from the very beginning that the solution to this puzzle would magically appear when he had found all the clues. But now that all he had was a growing string of meaningless numbers, he wasn’t sure of that any more. What would he do if his next clue was another number? Or a seventh number after that? He wasn’t a genius like Robert Langdon, who could instantly recognise the Fibonacci sequence in a seemingly random set of numbers, or crack a secret code that was known only to medieval philosophers. If the next clue wasn’t something obvious, he had no idea how he was supposed to solve the puzzle. And what would happen then?

  And what the hell had happened to Arnold? Who was behind that? He was amazed he hadn’t given any thought to the poor man until now, when he was the reason Peter had been arrested. He had never liked Arnold. Not so much because he was given the professorship that Peter had felt was his, but because he simply wasn’t the right man for the job. His interest in the subject left much to be desired, and he was far too busy with himself and his network.

  Peter’s thoughts had been so focused on Judith that he’d had no time to worry about Arnold. When would this end, he asked himself miserably. He desperately wanted to find Judith safe … The close friendship they had formed over the last twenty years was one of the most precious and valuable things in his life. He had often fantasised about what it would be like to spend his life with her, but he knew these were just daydreams. She was so happy with Mark, and he was the right age for her, not twenty years too old, like Peter.

  When he reached the door of the Boerhaavemuseum, he pushed down on the handle and leaned into it with his shoulder. Standing here out on the busy street left him exposed. He needed to get inside as soon as possible. But the door didn’t budge.

  The museum was still closed.

  34

  A day earlier, Friday 20 March, 10:15am

  ‘At two o’clock this afternoon,’ the Father said, ‘the light of the outside world will penetrate our world. Today, for the first time in more than twenty centuries, what was invisible will be made visible. We will reveal ourselves. The world will know that we are here.’

  Most of those present voiced their approval. But some of the men stayed silent. They stared straight ahead, avoiding the Father’s eyes.

  ‘After his initiation, Raven will wait in the place that our Lion Daniël has prepared for us. The lightest of touches will be all that is needed to cause the ceiling – or the bottom of the pit to them – to collapse.’

  He looked around the room again.

  ‘I expect Raven to be discovered at three o’clock. The ninth hour. And then, in more than one respect, we will be taking a leap in the dark.’

  The room was not only silent now, everyone in it was perfectly still, as though they were performing a tableau vivant.

  A Soldier raised his hand. The Father gave him permission to speak. ‘With the greatest respect, Pater, and I know I’ve asked this before, but how do you see our future after this? How will we recruit new members? Now we observe people for a year before inviting them to join … Will people soon be able to just fill in an application form on the internet?’
He asked the question in a mocking tone.

  ‘Listen, listen … This is all new, and I understand that you need time to get used to it. Our group will stay just as it is. It may mean that we will have to meet somewhere else, or we might be able to continue to hold our services here. But our meetings will continue to be private. Nothing will change about the way we recruit new members. The only change will be that the world will know we exist. We can tell people what we stand for, up to a point, without giving away our secrets. Think of the Freemasons. Everyone knows about them, but you can’t just become one of them.’

  The Father paused. ‘The important thing … The most important thing is that people will see that our beliefs lie at the heart of many of the ideas in other religions and belief systems. People will be amazed when they discover the origins of their own faiths. You should see it as an opportunity to introduce our ideas to a wider audience.’

  He took a sip of wine, swilled it around in his mouth, then spat it on the ground. ‘Finally, after two thousand years, we will be able to give Paul, our Paul, the prominence that is rightfully his. Our theological genius, who has been venerated for the wrong reasons … He poured the old wine of Mithras into the new skin of Christianity. He ensured its survival through the centuries, like an animal that remains hidden because of its camouflage, or the chameleon that adapts its colour to its surroundings. Our titan of Tarsus …’

  ‘What about your own congregation?’ someone else protested.

  ‘Yes, that’s very … well, it will be difficult. I … We’ll see what happens. But … our ideas will appeal to many people. Doesn’t everyone give in to temptation sometimes? Don’t most people have the feeling that the mind is willing but the flesh is weak? The soul is bound by the flesh, and it is kept there by every bad choice we make, but we … We have found the means of escape. We can control those base desires. What a message that is! And the world is ready to hear it. Our story may be centuries old, but our message is as new as it was when it was first proclaimed.’

  As he spoke, the Father’s normal voice transformed into the one he usually used to deliver his sermons. Even the men who had just spoken their objections listened as though entranced.

  ‘The rituals will not be spoken of. Knowing our secrets would be more than some people could cope with.’

  Tiny took a piece of bread and held it up for them all to see. Then he did the same with the chalice. ‘People will see that the bread, the body, and the wine, the blood, are universal … That they are not exclusive to this religion or that, but relevant to everyone, regardless of where they were born, or the faith they were raised in. When our Paul wrote in his second letter to the Corinthians that he was cunning, that he “got the better of you by guile”, it was with good reason. If he hadn’t—’

  ‘That’s enough!’ one of the Lions shouted, leaping to his feet. ‘How much longer do we have to listen to this? We’ve been in the shadows for centuries. That’s why we’ve endured. I see no good reason for us to—’

  ‘Silence!’ the Father shouted with such ferocity that the man who had dared to criticise him dropped dumbly back onto his seat. ‘Do not speak about things of which you have no understanding. Put your trust in those above you. There have been signs, and I do not need to repeat them, there have been clear, unmistakable signs. That is why …’

  Tiny slammed his palm down so hard on the altar that the chalice of wine almost fell over. ‘That is why I have decided, as your leader … as your Father …’ He said the word with great tenderness. ‘… to take us into a new era. I have chosen a man who will bring our message to the world, if he succeeds in the task I have set him. I have been watching him for many years … He knows things, as does the woman who is also part of this plan. If he completes his quest, then I will know that the signs have not deceived me. He will be the face of our organisation.’

  He looked at the Sun-Runner who was sitting next to him. ‘I still intend for you to take over from me. You mustn’t concern yourself about that. But this Peter is a gifted speaker and he has a brilliant mind. He has already—’

  ‘But what if he fails?’ someone asked.

  ‘Then nothing will have been lost. Then we retreat back into the shadows, and I will step down. The Sun-Runner will take my place, and you will find a new place to meet. But it will not come to that, I give you my word.’

  The room was quiet.

  Another man got to his feet, a Soldier. ‘The, um … new members,’ he began hesitantly, ‘will they have to follow all of our rules?’

  ‘Brothers,’ the Father said, full of fire, ‘I believe that in the early days our Lord chose me from among you to spread the good news and bring people to him. Our Lord, who knows the human heart, will show his trust in them by giving them his strength, just as he did to us. And in cleansing their hearts by faith, he will make no distinction between them and us. So why are you putting God to the test by wishing to burden these new people with a yoke which neither our ancestors nor we have been able to bear? On the contrary, I believe that we will be saved through the grace of our Lord, just as they will be.’

  At that, they were all silent.

  Jakob, a Bridegroom, spoke up. He said: ‘Brothers, listen to me. The Father has told us how our Lord himself has devised a plan to form a group from the unbelievers that will honour his name. It echoes the words which have been passed down to us: “After this I will return and I will rebuild my house which has fallen; from its ruins I will rebuild it. I will set it up, so that all other peoples may seek the Lord – even all the unbelievers over whom my name has been called. So says the Lord, who has been making these things known from long ago.” In my opinion, we shouldn’t overburden those who are newly converted. But we should let them know that they should abstain from what is strictly forbidden: lewdness and fornication, theft, malice and lies, and eating meat that has blood in it.’

  Murmurs of consent filled the room, although there was also quiet tutting from those who disagreed. The Father looked approvingly at Jakob.

  ‘Good,’ the Father said, ‘then we’ll move on to the reason we have gathered today. And whatever happens tomorrow, we will meet again tomorrow evening.’ He stood up, untied the lamb, and led it to the pit.

  The wooden planks were removed again. Raven disappeared into a passage at the rear of the temple, led by the Sun-Runner. In a corridor at the bottom of a flight of stairs, a door stood open.

  The Sun-Runner ushered him through it. Raven stood in the middle of the room and the door was closed behind him.

  Light from above made its way into the cell. He had been here before. A few months earlier when he was proving his worthiness, they had locked him in this room in total darkness, without telling him when he would be freed.

  Or if he would be freed.

  Afterwards he had found out that they had left him there for three days and three nights. He had been tormented by a thirst so terrible that he had tried to drink his own urine. But it was no easy task to catch your own piss in your hands in pitch darkness. Despite almost vomiting – it was the idea of it more than the taste – he had been able to moisten his mouth and throat. Later his thirst had made him so desperate that he had tried again. The acrid stink of ammonia that rose from the pathetic puddle he’d caught turned his stomach so much that he threw it away, flapping his fingers in disgust. But the smell stayed on his hands.

  When they had eventually come to free him, he was almost convinced that he had passed over into the land of the dead. The light from their torches looked like the light at the end of the tunnel that people described after near-death experiences.

  The word ‘thirst’ wasn’t anywhere near adequate to describe how much he had longed for water. They had found him hallucinating, completely disoriented, and unable to stand without help. But he was a true soldier of Mithras and he had not given up.

  Now he was here again, ready to become a member of the brotherhood.

  The Father had positioned himself in the middle of the
grate above the pit in which Raven stood. The lamb lay on its side at his feet.

  A Lion handed him a knife. The flickering torchlight glinted on the blade.

  The Father raised his arm above his head.

  ‘You have saved us by the shedding of the eternal blood!’ he cried.

  Raven looked up. ‘You have saved us by the shedding of the eternal blood!’ he echoed.

  The Father expertly drew the knife across the lamb’s neck, slicing its artery with a single cut. A few seconds later, it was limp and still.

  Warm blood gushed from its neck in a pulsating stream, falling like a consecrating rain into the pit below. Clothed only in a loincloth, Raven smeared the life-giving blood into his body. He tipped his head back and opened his mouth wide to take in as much blood as he could. As spatters of blood sprayed from his lips, he uttered the hopeful formula that had been incanted by thousands before him. ‘His blood be on us and on our children!’

  With one voice, the men above him repeated the wish that others might be cleansed by the blood of their Lord. ‘His blood be on us and on our children!’

  When the lamb had been drained of blood, Raven stood still like a bloody pillar and softly murmured a prayer.

  The others sat on the benches with their eyes closed, bowed their heads and held up their hands, palms facing upwards, each lost in his own thoughts.

  After a time, the Father got to his feet. He turned to face them, raised his arms in a gesture of benediction and said, ‘Go in peace.’

  ‘Peace be with you,’ the men mumbled.

  ‘The peace of our Lord be with you always.’

  ‘And with your spirit.’

  ‘Et lux in tenebris lucet.’ And the light shines in the darkness.

  ‘Amen.’

  Tiny Strauss left the temple, leaving behind him a thin trail of the blood that still dripped from his fingers.

  35

  Saturday 21 March, 10:15am

  Judith stood on top of what was left of her bed. She knew she was only delaying the inevitable, but did it anyway. She had put the mattress and the blanket on top of it to make a little mound, like an island in a swollen river.