"I don't know," he answered after a moment.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know. I honestly don't know how I'll feel when I see you and can't be with you, or when you come in one day and announce there's another man in your life. It's easy to say we'll be friends, but I don't want to lie to you-I don't know if I'll be able to. And if I can't, I'll leave before I start hating you."
Sofia was moved by Pietro's candor. His eyes were filled with tears. She had never dreamed that he cared so much. Or maybe it was just injured pride. Marco was so right-it was deadly to mix work and private life. But what was done was done. Now they had to get past it.
'No, I'll go," she told him. "I just want to see our work on the shroud through to the end. Then I'll ask for a transfer, or a leave."
"No, that wouldn't be fair. I know that you'll be able to treat me as a friend, just one of the guys. I'm the problem, not you-I know myself. I'll ask for the transfer."
"No, Pietro. You like Art Crimes, it's been a move up for you, and you're not going to lose it because of me. Marco says I should be looking for something new, and the truth is, I feel like taking on other things-teaching at the university, doing archaeology, maybe even opening an art gallery. I feel like one phase of my life is ending and another one is beginning to open up. Marco has seen that, and he's been encouraging me to find something else-and deep down I know he's right. I just want to ask you one favor: Do everything you can to stick it out for a few more months, until we wrap up this investigation. Please, let's make these months as good as they can be."
19
Izaz and Obodas devoured the cheese and figs that Timaeus had set before them. They were weary from the long days of travel, which had been shadowed by the constant fear of capture by the soldiers of Maanu.
But now they were here, in Sidon, at the house of Timaeus. Harran, the leader of the caravan, had promised them he would send a messenger to Senin in Edessa, to report that their journey had ended safely.
Timaeus's gaze was penetrating, despite his advanced years. He had greeted them warmly and insisted that they rest before they recounted the incidents of their journey, knowing they were weary in body and soul. He had been expecting them for months, ever since he had received a letter from Thaddeus telling him of his concern over Abgar's health and explaining the difficult situation the Christians would face when the king died, despite the queen's support for them. The queen herself had sent messages as well.
He had arranged that Izaz and Obodas would stay with him in his home, sharing a small room, the only one he had besides his own. His was a modest residence, in keeping with a follower of the true teachings of the Christ.
As they ate, Timaeus told his guests about Sidon's small community of Christians. The group met every evening at dusk to pray and share the news; there was always some traveler who brought word of Jerusalem, or a family member who sent letters from Rome.
Izaz listened to the old fellow attentively, and when he and Obodas had finished their meal, he asked to speak with Timaeus alone.
Obodas frowned. Senin's instructions had been clear: He was not to let Josar's nephew out of his sight, and he was to defend him with his own life.
Old Timaeus, seeing the cloud of uncertainty in the giant's eyes, spoke to him soothingly. "Be not troubled, Obodas. We have spies always watching, and we will know if Maanu's men should reach Sidon. Rest while I speak with Izaz. We will be just outside, and you will be able to see us from the window of the room you are to sleep in."
Obodas dared not contradict the old man, but when he reached his chamber he sat beside the little window, where he could observe Izaz every moment. He watched as the young man spoke softly with Timaeus. His words were lost on the soft morning breeze, but Obodas could see a multitude of emotions cross the old man's face. Amazement, grief, concern-these and other emotions came as he listened to Izaz's story.
When Izaz finished speaking, Timaeus embraced him warmly and blessed him with the sign of the cross, in memory of Jesus. Then they came back into the house, where Izaz and Obodas would rest until that evening, when they would join the small community of Christians in Sidon, their new home. They knew that they would never be able to return to the land of their forebears.
When the two had drifted off to sleep, Timaeus entered the small temple next to the house. There, he knelt and prayed to Jesus, asking the Lord to help him know what to do with the secret that Izaz had confided to him and for which Josar, Thaddeus, Marcius, and other Christians had by now almost certainly been martyred.
Only he and Izaz now knew where the shroud of Jesus was hidden. Timaeus trembled to think that a secret of such magnitude lay with them alone. At some moment he in turn would confide the secret to another man, because he was old and would soon die. Izaz was young, but what would happen when he, too, became an old man? Maanu, of course, might well die before them, so that Christians could return to Edessa, but what if he did not? They must ensure that the secret of the place where Marcius had hidden the shroud was preserved until it could be reclaimed. Neither he nor Izaz could carry the secret to the tomb.
Hours passed without Timaeus's noticing. There, on his knees praying, Izaz and Obodas found him at sunset. By that point, the old man had made a decision.
Timaeus rose to his feet slowly. His knees were stiff and painful. He smiled at his guests and asked them to accompany him to the house of his grandson, which was just across a small garden from his own home.
"John! John!" the old man called outside a whitewashed house shaded from the sun by a grapevine. A young woman with a child in her arms emerged. "He has not yet returned, Grandfather. He will not be long; he always returns for the hour of prayer."
"This is Alaida, my grandson's wife. And this is her daughter, Myriam."
Alaida invited the strangers inside. "Come in. There is cool water with honey."
"No, my daughter, not now; our brothers and sisters will be arriving to pray to our Lord. I wanted only for you and John to meet these two young men, who will live with me now."
The three men made their way to the community's temple, where there was already a group of families talking amicably among themselves-country people and small artisans who had converted to faith in Jesus. Timaeus introduced them, one by one, to Izaz and Obodas and then asked the two young men to recount their flight from Edessa.
Timidly at first, Izaz began to relate the news of Edessa and to reply to the questions asked him by members of the community. When he finished speaking, Timaeus invited the group to pray to Jesus to help their brothers and sisters in Edessa. And so they all prayed and sang and shared among themselves the bread and wine that Alaida had brought.
John's skin was dark olive and his beard was black, as black as his hair; he was neither tall nor short. He had arrived late, in the company of Harran and several men from the caravan, bearing heavy sacks. Timaeus instructed them to bring them to his house.
"My lord Senin," Harran said to them there, "wishes to present you with these gifts, which will aid you in your support of Izaz, Josar's nephew, and his guardian, Obodas. He also bids me give you this bag of gold, which will be useful to you in times of hardship."
Izaz looked on in astonishment at the presentation of so many things. Senin was very, very generous; before Izaz had left Edessa Senin had given him, too, a bag of gold, enough to live comfortably for the rest of his life.
"Thank you, Harran, my good friend," Timaeus said, his voice filled with emotion as he grasped the caravan leader's hands. "I pray that you return to find Senin as you left him and that the wrath of Maanu has not fallen upon him. Tell your lord that these presents, like those you brought me from the queen several months ago, shall be dedicated to help the poor, as Jesus taught us, and to secure the well-being of our small community. Since you will not be leaving Sidon to return to Edessa for several more days, I will have time to write Senin myself."
Nightmares plagued Izaz's sleep. In his dream, he saw faces consumed by fire, a field running with blood. When he awoke, just at dawn, he was covered with sweat, the sweat of fear.
He stepped outside the house to the water basin next to the garden, and he found Timaeus there, cutting back a lemon tree. Timaeus bade him go for a walk with him, down to the seaside, to enjoy the coolness of the morning.
"Will Obodas not be alarmed when he awakes?"
"I will ask John to watch, so that when your guardian awakes he can tell him where we have gone."
After he had given the instructions to his grandson, who had already risen and was preparing to work in the garden he shared with his grandfather, Timaeus led Izaz down to the water.
The Mare Nostrum, as the Romans called it, was angry that morning. Waves beat against the pebbles of the shoreline and washed the sand from the beach. It was the first time Izaz had seen that immensity of water, which seemed to him a miracle, and he watched its turmoil in awe. There, on the shore of that ancient sea, Timaeus told Josar's nephew of the plan he had devised.
"Izaz, it is God's will that you and I be repositories of a great secret-the place where the shroud of His son, who has performed so many miracles, is hidden. The place to which Marcius entrusted it should remain a secret with us for as long as needed, never to be revealed before Edessa is once again Christian and we are certain that the shroud is in no danger. You and I may never see that day, so when I die you must choose a man to keep the secret and transmit it in his turn to another, and so on until no cloud darkens the presence of Christians in Edessa. If Senin survives, he will send us word from time to time of all that is happening in the kingdom. But in any case, I shall keep the promise I made to Thaddeus, your uncle Josar, and the queen when they sent me missives explaining what the future would hold when Abgar died. They bade me, come what might, to see that the seeds planted by the Christ not die in Edessa and that, should the worst come to pass, after some years to send Christians once more to the city."
"But that would be to send them to their deaths." "Those who go will do so without revealing their beliefs. They will take up residence in the kingdom, work there, and try to seek out any Christians who still remain, in order to rebuild the community, in secret. They will seek not to provoke Maanu's wrath or unleash a persecution, but rather act in such a way that the seeds of Jesus' teachings may take root and grow again among the people there. That was the Lord's wish when he sent Josar with the shroud to Abgar. Jesus sanctified that land with his presence and his miracles, and we must obey the wishes of our Lord in this matter, regardless of the price we and those who follow us must pay or how long it might take.
"We will wait for Harran to return with a caravan, and then we will be able to decide what to do and when. But whatever happens, or has happened, the shroud of Jesus must never leave Edessa, and we must do all in our power to ensure that belief in Jesus never falters in the city. We will dedicate our lives to fulfilling these promises, made in the name of those who have sacrificed all for our faith."
20
ZAFARIN TREMBLED. ONLY THE PRESENCE OF his father kept him from turning and fleeing. His mother was holding his arm, and his wife, Ayat, with their litde daughter, walked at his side without a word-they were as frightened as he was. A thin, frail-looking little man, modestly dressed, had opened the door and greeted them quietly.
Now he led the women into another room. "Wait here," he told them, closing the door behind him as he turned back to Zafarin and his father. He led them through the foyer to the threshold of a richly carved double door, opened it, and ushered them inside. Shelves lined the walls of the room, overflowing with books and other objects that were impossible to discern in the flickering candlelight. Heavy curtains over the windows blocked every ray of sun, maintaining the effect of a perpetual twilight in which the shadows seemed alive.
The man at the head of the immense, elaborately carved wooden table should have been dwarfed by the enormous chair in which he sat, but it only made his imposing figure more intimidating. There was not a hair on his head, but the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth left no doubt as to his age, which was also apparent in his bony, large-knuckled hands, which were clasped before him on the table, veins seeming to pulse through almost transparent skin.
Along each side of the table were four high-backed chairs. Sitting in them were eight men, dressed in severe black. Their eyes remained lowered as Zafarin and his father entered the room.
"You failed."
Addaio's voice echoed through the oppressive chamber. Zafarin lowered his head, unable to hide the shame and terror that lay deep within his soul. His father took a step forward and fearlessly met the pastor's eyes.
"I have given you two sons. Both Zafarin and his brother Mendib before him have been selfless and brave; they have sacrificed for you; each has given his body, his voice, his future. Mendib languishes in a foreign prison. They will not speak until the Day of Judgment, when God raises them from the dead again. Our family does not deserve your recriminations. For centuries, the best of us have dedicated our lives to Jesus Christ and to this community. We are human, Addaio, only human, and we fail. Zafarin is intelligent, and you know it. You yourself insisted that he, like
Mendib, go to the university. My son believes that there is a traitor among us, someone who has access to your plans even as you are plotting them out and knows each move we intend to make before we even begin.
"The failure is here, Addaio, inside, and you must find the traitor who lives among us. Betrayal has lived in our community down through time. That is the only way to explain the fact that so far every attempt to rescue what is ours has failed."