"But I assure you, Marvuz, that the city shall turn its eyes once more to Syn and destroy the temples that the queen has built to honor the Nazarene. The moment Abgar goes to his eternal rest, we will kill the queen and put an end to the life of Josar and his friend Thaddeus."
Marvuz trembled. He bore no affection for the queen; he considered her a hard woman, the true ruler of Edessa since Abgar had first fallen ill, despite the king's recovery of his health. And the queen distrusted Marvuz. He could feel her icy gaze upon him, following his every move, for she knew that he was a friend of Maanu. But even so, could he kill her? For he was certain that Maanu would ask him to do it.
He would have no problem killing Josar and Thaddeus. He would run them through with his sword. He was weary of their sermons, their words filled with rebuke because he fornicated with any woman who would go with him and because, in honor of Syn, he drank without moderation on nights of the full moon until he lost his senses, for he, Marvuz, still worshipped the gods of his fathers, the gods of his city. He did not accept the imposition of this effeminate and virtuous god that Josar and Thaddeus never ceased speaking of.
12
THE SUN WAS RISING ON THE BOSPHORUS AS the
Stella di Mare
cut through the waves near Istanbul and her crew rushed about in preparation for docking. The captain watched the dark-skinned young man silently swabbing the deck. In Genoa, one of his men had gotten sick and could not make the voyage, and his executive officer had brought him this fellow. The XO had assured him that although the new man was mute, he was an experienced sailor recommended by one of the regulars at the Green Falcon, the tavern on the docks they all frequented when they were in port. At the time, given their imminent sailing, the captain hadn't noticed that the man's hands were soft, with not a single callus-the hands of a man who had never done a seaman's work. But the mute followed every order he was given during the crossing, and his eyes showed no emotion, no matter what job he was given.
The XO had said that the man would depart the ship in Istanbul, but all he'd done was shrug his shoulders when the captain asked him why.
The captain was Genovese. He'd been a sailor for forty years, and he'd docked in a thousand ports and known every kind of person. But this young man was a strange one, with failure etched on his face and resignation in his every gesture, as though he knew he'd come to the end. But the end of what?
Istanbul was more beautiful to him than ever. He breathed deep as his eyes scanned the port. He knew that someone would be coming for him, perhaps the same man who had hidden him when he arrived from Urfa. He yearned to return to his own town, embrace his father, feel the arms of his wife about him again, hear the happy laughter of his daughter.
He feared his meeting with Addaio, feared the pastor's disappointment. But at this moment failure, his own failure, meant very little to him, for he was alive and almost home. It was more than his brother had been able to do two years earlier. They had heard nothing, nothing from him since that black evening when he'd been arrested like a common thief. Their contact in Turin had told him that Mendib was still in prison but should be free in a year.
He got off the boat without saying good-bye to anyone. The night before, the captain had paid him the wages they'd agreed upon and asked him if he didn't want to stay on with the crew. With signs, he had refused.
He left the dock area and began to walk, not knowing exactly where to go. If the man from Istanbul didn't appear, he would find some way to get to Urfa on his own. He had the money he'd earned as a sailor.
He heard quick footsteps behind him, and when he turned he saw the man who'd given him shelter a few months earlier.
"I've been following you for a while, watching, to be sure no one else was on your tail. You'll be sleeping tonight at my house; they'll come for you early tomorrow morning. It's best you not leave the house until then."
The mute nodded. He'd have liked to walk around Istanbul, wander through the narrow streets of the bazaar, find perfume for his wife, a gift for his daughter, but he wouldn't do that. Any further complication would anger Addaio even more.
13
A soft rapping on the woven-rush door of the house woke Josar from a troubled sleep. Dawn had not yet broken over Edessa, but the soldier at the door brought him orders directly from the queen. At dusk, Josar and Thaddeus were to come to the palace. The guard was unable to mask his uneasiness, and, his message delivered, He was clearly glad to be away.
On his knees, his eyes closed, Josar prayed that God might give him balm for the disquiet that filled his soul.
Izaz arrived a few hours later, at almost the same time as Thaddeus. Josar's nephew had grown into a robust, intelligent young man. He brought news of the rumors that were circulating wildly in the palace. Abgar's strength was ebbing; he was failing almost before one's eyes. The physicians spoke in hushed voices, and rumor had it they had told the queen that there was little hope the king would emerge from what appeared to be death's last assault upon his life.
Knowing that he was dying, Abgar had asked the queen to call his closest friends and advisers to his bedside so he might impart the instructions to be followed after his death. That was why the queen had called Josar, then. To Izaz's surprise, he, too, had been called to the side of the king.
When they arrived at the palace they were escorted quickly into the presence of the king, who was lying on his couch, his pallor dramatically worse than in recent days. The queen, who was cooling Abgar's brow with a cloth moistened with rose water, sighed with relief when she saw them enter.
Two other men entered the king's chamber: Marcius, the royal architect, and Senin, the wealthiest merchant in Edessa and a blood relative of Abgar, to whom he maintained absolute allegiance.
The queen motioned them all toward the king's couch as she sent the servants away and ordered the guards to close the doors and allow no one else to enter.
"My friends, I wanted to take my earthly leave of you and instruct you in my last wishes."
Abgar's voice was weak. The king was dying and he knew it, and the respect and love the men bore him prevented them from speaking words of false hope. Thus they stood in silence at his bedside, to hear what he wished to say to them.
"My spies have told me that when I die, my son, Maanu, will unleash cruel persecution against all the Christians of the city and that some of you have been marked for death. Thaddeus, Josar, and you, Izaz, must leave Edessa before I die. You will not be safe here afterward. Maanu will not dare murder Marcius or Senin, even though he knows they are Christians, because they are of the noble families of Edessa, who would take vengeance against him.
"He will burn the temples to Jesus and destroy the houses of those of my subjects most faithful to the worship of the Christ. Many men, women, and children will be murdered as he terrorizes our Christian brothers and sisters and attempts to force them to return to the worship of the old gods.
"I fear for the shroud of Jesus; I fear that the grave cloth will be destroyed. Maanu has sworn to burn it in the marketplace before all the citizens of Edessa, and on the day of my death he will do just that. You, my friends, must save it."
The five men listened in silence to the king's words. Josar looked at the queen, and for the first time he realized that the beauty that had always graced her was now fading and that the stray hairs one could see among the folds of her veil were silver. His lady had aged, although the brightness of her eyes was unchanged and her presence was as majestic as always. What would happen to her? He was certain that Maanu, her son, hated her.
Abgar sensed Josar's concern. He knew of his friend's undying devotion to the queen.
"Josar, I have asked the queen to leave the city as well. There is still time, but she will not listen."
"My lady," said Josar, "your life is in more danger than ours."
"I am the queen of Edessa, Josar, and a queen does not flee. If I must die I will do so here with my people, those who believe in the Christ as I do. I will not abandon those who have placed their trust in us, the friends I have prayed with. I will remain beside Abgar; I could not bear to abandon him to his fate in this palace. So long as the king lives, Maanu will not dare act against me."
Abgar sat up on his couch, clutching the queen's arm. Over the last few days he and she had talked for hours, through the nights and until sunrise, devising the plan that the king was now about to explain to his most beloved friends.
"My last command to you, my friends, is that you save the shroud of Jesus. Upon me it worked the miracle of life, enabling me to live to this old age that is now upon me. The sacred cloth belongs not to me but to all Christians, and it is for them that you must save it-and yet I ask that it not leave Edessa but that the city preserve it for all time. Jesus sent it here, and here it shall remain. The last loyal members of my guard maintain it in the first temple we built to him. Thaddeus, Josar, you will retrieve the shroud and deliver it over to Marcius. You, Marcius, will find a hiding place for it, to save it from the wrath of Maanu. Senin, I ask that you organize the flight of Thaddeus, Josar, and young Izaz. My son will not dare attack your caravans. I place my faithful subjects under your protection."
"Where would you have me hide the shroud, Abgar?" asked Marcius.
"That is for you to determine, my good friend. Neither the queen nor I must know, though you must choose one person to share the secret and put that person, too, under the protection of Senin. I feel my life ebbing away. I know not how many days remain to me, but I hope I may be given enough to allow you to carry out those things I have asked of you."
Then, as dusk deepened into night, knowing it might be the last time, the king took his leave of them.
The sun was just rising as Marcius reached the western wall. Workers were already there, awaiting his instructions. As the king's architect, Marcius was charged not only with constructing the buildings that gave glory to Edessa but also with overseeing all the public works in the city, such as this construction at the western wall, which was being broadened so that a grand ornamental gateway might be made in it.
He was surprised to see Marvuz, on horseback, speaking with Jeremin, the overseer of the work.
"Greetings, Marcius."
"What brings the head of the king's guards to the wall? Has Abgar sent for me?"
"I am sent by Maanu, who soon enough will be king."
"He will be king if God wills it."
The loud laugh that came from Marvuz echoed in the silence of the dawn.
"He will be king, Marcius, he will be king, and you know that, for you were with Abgar last evening. You saw that his death is upon him."
"What is it you want here? Speak quickly, for I have work to do."
"Maanu' wishes to know what orders Abgar has given. He knows that not only you but also Senin, Thaddeus, Josar, and even Izaz the scribe were at the king's bedside well into the night. The prince wishes you to know that if you vow loyalty to him, no harm will befall you; if you do not, he cannot be responsible for the fate you encounter."
"You come here to threaten me? Has the prince so little respect for himself that he would stoop to threats of violence? I am too old to fear anything men might do to me, Marvuz. Maanu can only take my life, and it has already run its course. Now go, and let me work."
"Will you tell me what Abgar has told you?"
Marcius turned on his heel without replying and began to inspect the mortar that one of the workers was removing.
"You will be sorry for this, Marcius, you will be sorry!" shouted Marvuz as he swung his mount about and galloped off to the palace.
For the next few hours Marcius seemed absorbed in his work. The overseer watched him out of the corner of his eye; Marvuz had paid him well to spy on the royal architect. He regretted that he was forced to betray the old man, who had always been kind to him, but Marcius's time had passed, and Marvuz had assured the overseer that Maanu would repay his services most generously.
The sun stood at its zenith when Marcius told the overseer that it was time for a break. Sweat poured from the bodies of the workers, and even the overseer was weary from the labors and ready to sit and rest awhile.
Two young servants from the house of Marcius came just then with two baskets. The overseer saw that they brought fruit and water, which the architect began to share among the workers.
For an hour they all rested, although Marcius, as so many times before, remained absorbed in the study of his plans. Indeed, he was so dedicated to his work that at one point he broke off his examination of the plans to climb up a ladder and mount a high scaffolding, examining the wall to ensure that it was being built firm and solid. The overseer closed his eyes, weary with the heat and the labors, while the workmen barely had the strength to talk.
It was not until the sun was sinking in the west that Marcius allowed the workmen to cease their labors. He wished them all a good evening and, accompanied by his servants, made his way home.
There was little for the overseer to report on Marcius's activities, but he repaired to the tavern at the sign of the cloverleaf, to meet there with Marvuz.
Marcius, childless and widowed, for his wife had died years ago, loved his two servants as though they were his own sons. They were Christians, as he was, and he knew that they would not betray him.
The night before, Marcius had made a promise to Thaddeus and Josar before leaving the palace of Abgar: When he had determined where to hide the shroud of Jesus, he would send them word. Josar would devise a plan to deliver the shroud to Marcius without arousing Maanu's suspicions, since they knew, as Abgar had warned them, that Maanu would send spies to watch them. They also decided that Marcius would tell Izaz alone where the shroud was hidden, and this meant that the moment Izaz received the information, it was imperative that he go to Senin and flee the city. Thaddeus had made arrangements for him to journey to Sidon, where there was a small but prosperous community of Christians. Timaeus, the spiritual leader of the community, had been sent there by Peter to preach. Izaz would find refuge with Timaeus, who would safeguard the secret of the shroud's location.