A Covenant of Thieves

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A Covenant of Thieves Page 34

by Christian Velguth


  “Yeah, yeah. I’m just saying. Would’ve been easier.”

  Rick brought the drone back and set it in follow-mode so that they would have an eye in the sky, then gathered up his backpack. They entered Axum proper, Berhanu taking the lead.

  The city grew up around them, the surrounding fields sprouting orderly clusters of apartment blocks and cookie-cutter homes. Many of these had a dark, hollow feel to them -- sleeping or abandoned or simply without power. The main roads felt like the thoroughfares of a long-abandoned civilization, filled with the detritus of disuse and disrepair. Rail-thin dogs and yowling cats prowled these ruins, claiming them as their own.

  It was a stark reminder of what Estelle had always known intellectually, but never experienced without the safe barrier of a screen. The world was in chaos. Things were falling apart everywhere. Climate change was undeniably the catalyst, but Booker was right -- it was people exacerbating an already-difficult situation. If they did survive the extreme weather patterns and agricultural crises, Estelle wondered, would they even be able to return to a state of pre-shift peace?

  Rick kept his eye on the drone’s feed as they walked, occasionally rerouting them to avoid obstructions and what looked like active shantytowns.

  “How do we know if they’re with the rebels?” she asked in a whisper as they skirted around one of these communities.

  “We don’t,” Kai said. “Let’s not find out.” She noticed that both he and Rick were making a point of keeping their holstered pistols visible. “Even if they’re not rebels, they could be desperate enough to try and take our stuff.”

  After nearly another hour of walking, Berhanu suddenly pointed. “There!”

  Estelle followed his finger. Against the sky she could make out a large dome rising above the surrounding buildings and trees. A thin tower stood beside it, both bearing what looked like ornately wrought crosses.

  “The church grounds are only a few blocks away. We are nearly there.”

  They picked up the pace, eager to be so close to the end. Estelle was exhausted, her legs rubbery, her feet on fire, but she couldn’t stop thinking of her father, walking the same path she followed or one similar to it.

  They came to a walled compound that enclosed a low hill populated by trees. The front gate hung open in a way that wasn’t exactly invitational. Rick glanced at the drone feed. “Looks clear,” he said, and slipped through the gate.

  A long drive led into the compound. The domed structure came into view. It looked almost like a spaceship, Estelle thought, with a ring of tall windows set just below the dome and three arched porticos facing the drive.

  “More modern than I expected,” she admitted.

  “This is the new Church of Our Lady Mary of Zion,” Berhanu informed her. “Constructed by Emperor Haile Selassie.”

  “The Ark is in the old one,” Rick said, pointing off to the right. She could just make out the smaller, blocky building through the dark trees. Even at a distance, it did look much older. More like where she would expect the Ark of the Covenant to be kept.

  A sudden shiver ran through her. The Ark of the Covenant. It hadn’t really struck her until just now: a profound sense of myth and history coming to life, making her feel both small and awed at the same time. She’d never particularly cared about the past, not the way her father did, but she could no longer deny the significance of what she was doing. Estelle embraced that thrill, using it to push aside the unease that had persisted since they’d entered the city.

  The modern cathedral looked like one of the few structures in the city to have remained completely untouched by war. The only evidence of human activity were a number of flowers, votive candles, and other offerings that had been laid out on the front steps. Berhanu approached these silently, staring down at them with his hands in the pockets of his ragged, dust-covered suit.

  “What’s he doing?” Rick muttered irritably.

  Estelle raised a hand to the group, going to join Berhanu. His head was bowed, and he didn’t look up as she approached. She stood at his side for a silent moment, studying the photos and scraps of paper that covered the church steps. Some were animated captures, the people in them smiling and laughing at the camera. Many more, she could see, had been fixed to the front door.

  “Are we doing the right thing?” Berhanu asked quietly.

  Estelle stared at him. How was she supposed to answer that? “I don’t know. These are your people, Berhanu. Your heritage.”

  “Yes. But…is it right to take the Ark from them? To take away the center of their belief, when so much has already been stolen?”

  “We’re not here to steal it,” she said, gently touching his arm. “We’re trying to protect it. Right? Besides, it’s only temporary. It’ll be kept safe in Addis Ababa until you can bring it home.”

  He nodded. “Of course. And yet…” Berhanu trailed off, the light of the last few burning candles flickering in his eyes. He took a deep breath. “Yes. We are here now; we might as well do what we came for.”

  “So what’s the play?” Booker asked as they returned to the group. “Just walk in and get the Ark from this guardian? Can’t be that simple, can it?”

  “It will not be,” Berhanu said. “The Kohen have guarded the Ark for centuries, one after the other, an unbroken line. Only by his permission will we be able to enter.”

  “Assuming the guy’s even still around,” Kai noted.

  “He will be. The Kohen is chosen from a young age, and never leaves the sanctuary once selected. He was here when Martin and I first came. Hopefully he will remember our arrangement and allow us to complete our work.”

  Rick nodded. “Right. Berhanu, you’ll make the introductions, get us into the sanctuary. Kai, go find us a ride out of here, something that will be able to transport the Ark. Hopkins, you should go with him.”

  “I’ll stay here,” Booker said firmly.

  “No, you won’t. If we’re going to split up, we should still go in groups. Just go with Kai, ok? Your girlfriend will be fine. It’s safer in here than out there.”

  “She’s not --” Booker caught himself, glancing at Estelle. She felt her face growing warm and looked away. “Fine.”

  He headed back towards the front gate with Kai, the two of them quickly swallowed up by the shadows. Rick turned to Berhanu and Estelle. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

  Berhanu cleared his throat. “There, ah, may be a complication. Something I did not mention earlier.”

  Rick’s eyes immediately narrowed. “What.”

  Berhanu glanced at Estelle before speaking. “The Church of Our Lady Mary of Zion…It is a complicated thing, you see. It was built to house the Ark, but also to honor the Virgin Mary. In Ethiopian Christianity, the Ark is Mary, and vice versa. The two are connected symbolically, both the manifestation of God’s covenant with man on Earth. Because of this…well, no woman is allowed inside the sanctuary.”

  Estelle blinked. “Why not?”

  “Well, as the patron saint of femininity and virgin purity, it was always thought that any other woman might, ah --”

  “Bring down the class in the place,” Rick finished. “Right, so, Estelle, you’ll just have to stay outside.”

  “Hang on,” she said sharply. “I didn’t come all this way just to wait at the door. This is my father’s work. I’m finishing it, in person.”

  Berhanu raised his hands placatingly. “I will speak to the Kohen. I am certain that if I explain who you are…”

  His tone didn’t inspire confidence. Estelle sighed. “That’s fine. Let’s just see what happens, ok?”

  They crossed the cathedral grounds, towards the old Ark sanctuary. They passed a tall stone obelisk that seemed oddly out of place to Estelle. She hadn’t noticed it in the drone feed. It towered above the grounds, nearly as tall as the new cathedral itself. A chunky, square-sided thing with tiers of rectangular depressions that almost looked like the windows of a skyscraper. There were even false doors at the bottom that resembled
nothing so much as elevators.

  “It is one of several in Axum,” Berhanu said, noticing where her attention was focused. “They were created around 500 BCE.”

  “Same time the Ark disappeared,” Rick noted.

  “Well, yes. Actually, according to folklore, it was the power of the Ark itself that carved the obelisks from solid stone and raised them up into the air.”

  “Sounds like a handy tool,” Estelle said. “Why do they look like that? Like modern towers?”

  “They were built to mark royal burial chambers, and to represent the heavenly abode of the deceased. Although there is no such tomb here that I know of.”

  A wrought iron fence surrounded the sanctuary. The tops of the bars were spike-sharp and curved outward, warding off anyone who might try to climb over. On the other side, surrounded by a weedy garden, were two buildings: the old church of Our Lady Mary of Zion and, even smaller, the Ark sanctuary. It was almost perfectly square, with a domed roof bearing a cross and tall windows barred by portcullises. A thick, striped curtain hung over the front entrance.

  Rick unshouldered his backpack, setting it beside the fence. He put a hand on the front gate and pushed. It opened with a squeal. He looked to Berhanu. “This thing normally locked?”

  “It was the last time I was here.” The curator sounded worried.

  “Well, let’s see if anyone’s home.” And before Berhanu could protest, Rick was marching up to the front entrance. Estelle and Berhanu hurried after him.

  “Wait,” Berhanu hissed. “I should be the one. The Kohen will know me.”

  Rick nodded, stepping graciously aside. Berhanu moved up towards the low steps, which were covered by a long carpet. At the threshold he paused, kicking off his shoes, and then stepped up to the curtain. He raised a hand, hesitated, and then knocked gently.

  “No one’s going to hear that,” Rick told him.

  Berhanu knocked again, harder, and moved his face closer to the door. He spoke quietly, saying something in Amharic. Estelle touched the frame of her glasses, opening the real-time translation app. Text appeared in small red letters as Berhanu spoke again.

  “Kohen. It is Berhanu Abraham. I have returned, as promised. Are you in there?”

  No voice came from within the sanctuary. Estelle crossed her arms, hugging herself as they waited. Beside her, Rick huffed, shifting anxiously in place. She glanced at his wristband and saw herself from the drone’s perspective, a small figure standing before the sanctuary.

  Berhanu glanced back at them, wiping his brow. “Perhaps he is asleep.”

  “Or gone,” Rick said, stepping forward. He pounded hard on the door with both fists. “Yooo! Anyone home? You in there, bud -- ah, shit.”

  He stepped back as the front door opened and the barrel of a rifle poked out. Berhanu retreated as well, and Estelle caught her breath. She could just make out a figure standing in the doorway, half-hidden behind the heavy curtain, aiming a rifle into the night.

  A voice like dried leaves whispered, and Estelle’s glasses provided a translation. “You must not be here.”

  Rick elbowed Berhanu in the side. The curator blinked, coming out of his shock, and cleared his throat. “Kohen. Do you remember me? Berhanu Abraham? I came not too long ago, with my friend Martin Kingston. You granted us audience with the Ark.”

  There came no answer. Estelle's heart was pounding. Then, slowly, the shadowed figure stepped forward. He was an old man wrapped in colorful but faded robes, the rifle held lightly in both arms. His face was raised slightly, eyes pointing just above their heads. Estelle realized he was blind.

  “Berhanu Abraham,” the Kohen said in his dry, whispering voice. “The man from Addis Ababa. Yes, I remember you. You have come back at last.”

  “I have,” Berhanu said eagerly, now that it was clear they weren’t going to be immediately shot. “The Ark. Is it still --?”

  The Kohen spoke over him, causing Estelle’s translation to miss his first couple words. “-- not alone. Who are the strangers with you? Where is Martin Kingston?”

  She glanced at Rick, whose eyes were narrowed on the Kohen. Berhanu seemed momentarily at a loss. “Martin has, unfortunately, passed into the kingdom of God. But…I have brought his daughter. Estelle Kingston.”

  Berhanu turned towards her. Estelle wondered if the Kohen would tell her to get off sanctuary grounds before she sullied it with her womanhood. But then he shuffled forward, coming down the steps. He set the rifle down as he went, leaning it against the side of the building. With a start Estelle realized he was coming towards her. She glanced again at Rick, who was watching with keen interest.

  The Kohen stopped less than a foot from her. His face was a spray of wrinkles and lines, dark skin mottled with lighter spots. His eyes were two milky-yellow orbs, like old ivory carvings. They stared up at her blindly.

  “The daughter of Martin Kingston?” he asked softly.

  Estelle nodded, then caught herself. “Yes.” The Amharic translation appeared on her glasses, and she repeated it. “Awo.”

  The Kohen raised two frail arms. His hands looked like they had been wrapped with threadbare fabric, the bones of his long fingers pressed taught against the skin. Estelle tried not to flinch back as those fingers brushed against her cheeks. She remained still as he traced the rest of her face, hands moving to her lips, her nose, her ears, the corners of her eyes. He smelled almost overwhelmingly of incense. His own eyes remained motionless.

  “You do have his face,” the Kohen said finally. Estelle was somewhat surprised to hear this -- she’d always resembled her mother more than her father -- but glad nonetheless. The Kohen dropped his hands, taking both of hers. “May God grant you peace in your loss.”

  “I -- thank you.” The Amharic translation appeared on her glasses, but before she could repeat it, she felt something small and cool slip into her right hand. She blinked, taken aback, and tried to pull away. The Kohen held onto her hands, his grip surprisingly firm.

  “Rejoice in your father’s passing,” he went on, rheumy eyes fixed on her brow. “And know that you will be reunited in the Lord’s Kingdom, in the eternal glory of God.”

  Very deliberately, he folded her fingers, curling her hands into fists and enclosing the small object he’d slipped her. Then he stepped back, a small smile touching his withered lips.

  Estelle stared at him, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. She wanted to open her hand and see what he’d given her, but she was quite aware of both Rick and Berhanu watching her. Something about the Kohen’s behavior told her that the object, whatever it was, had been meant only for her. She put both hands in her pockets, surreptitiously depositing the small object. “Thank you,” she said. “A-ameseginalehu.”

  The Kohen nodded.

  An awkward silence passed. Then Rick cleared his throat. “So, uh. The Ark?”

  “Yes.” Berhanu stepped forward. “Yes. Kohen, are you still willing to allow us to safeguard the Ark? Has it been prepared?”

  “It has,” the Kohen answered.

  “Excellent! May we -- may we see it?”

  “You cannot.”

  Estelle’s heart sank, in the same instant that Berhanu’s face fell. Rick frowned. “What? Why the hell not?”

  Berhanu, more diplomatically, asked, “Can you tell us why?”

  “The Ark is no longer in the sanctuary. It has been moved to a safe location, as you suggested.”

  Estelle’s stomach filled with lead and plopped down somewhere near her feet. She took a step back, suddenly wanting nothing more than to sit down and bury her head in her hands. Gone. After all she had been through to get here, the Ark wasn’t even in Axum anymore. It didn’t seem possible.

  “Fuck,” Rick spat. “Ask him where it is.”

  Berhanu relayed the question, in more polite terms. The Kohen was silent for a moment, then said, “That is not for you to know. It has returned to a sanctuary greater than this one, consecrated to keep it safe until the danger has pass
ed. After that, it will return here.”

  “Greater than this one,” Estelle repeated. “What does that mean?”

  Berhanu repeated the question. The Kohen merely shook his head. “That is not for you to know.”

  “But -- but Kohen,” Berhanu pressed. “You must have misunderstood. When Martin and I were here last, we --”

  “Warned me that the Ark was in danger,” the Kohen said serenely. “From thieves and destruction. I took your warning to heart. The Ark is now safe. There was no need to take it all the way to Addis Ababa.”

  “But Addis is safe,” Berhanu insisted. “Safer than anywhere near Axum.”

  The Kohen blinked slowly. “The Ark is no longer in danger.”

  Rick turned away, muttering under his breath and kicking at the ground. Part of Estelle felt like joining in. “So,” Berhanu said hopelessly, “you will not tell us where it has been hidden?”

  “There is no need. The Lord has provided all.” He inclined his head slightly towards Estelle -- almost as if he could see her. Had that been directed at her?

  “Great,” Rick spat. “That’s just brilliant. What a waste of fucking time. Berhanu, tell this guy to let us into the sanctuary. I’m not leaving until I’m sure the Ark isn’t here.”

  “I will not allow you to ransack this temple,” Berhanu shot back angrily. “Perhaps…perhaps this is for the best. Perhaps the Ark never should have --”

  He cut off as a sound reached them: the grumble of an engine. As one, they turned. Lights were moving up the drive, headed towards the cathedral. Kai and Booker, Estelle thought as a truck pulled into view.

  Then another one followed it. And another.

  “Ah, hell.” Rick glanced down at his wristband, to where the drone feed showed a line of vehicles entering the church grounds. Estelle’s heart skipped a beat as she saw that he had his pistol drawn.

  “What’s happening?”

  “The locals have come to say hello.”

  Figures were stepping out of the trucks, five, ten, fifteen -- a whole crowd of silhouettes, speaking with loud, barking voices. Someone shouted and the group began approaching, moving quickly. Estelle heard the clatter of gear.

 

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