by M. B. Lewis
In the middle of the page was a circle of red wax holding the parchment closed. Embedded in the wax was something she recognized right away. She’d seen dozens of photographs of it during her studies, but never a real one. A smile crept across her face.
“Kadie?” Duke said. She didn’t respond. She only stared at the parchment in her hands.
She whirled to face the rest of them.
Patricia edged toward her, interested, yet concerned. “What is it?”
She took a deep breath and turned to Duke.
“It’s the official seal of the Emperor Constantine.”
51
“The seal of Constantine? Are you sure?” Duke said.
Kadie nodded enthusiastically. Duke realized she was convinced that the seal was authentic. His thought shifted from elated discovery to strategic concern. How would this impact their situation? Curt was a loose cannon. No telling what would set him off next. His eyes darted to their captors, but they remained transfixed on the paper Kadie held in her hand.
She shuffled to the coffee table and let the paper balance on one hand as she moved items on the table with the other. With care, she set the discovery on the coffee table, then sat on the floor to examine it closer. The seal still had amazing adhesive qualities, and she tugged carefully at the paper.
“Will that seal damage the paper?” Duke said.
“Parchment.”
“Huh?”
“It’s not paper. It’s parchment. And no, other than a small stain on the other side. I’m trying to remove the seal to keep it intact. There are not many authentic wax seals around from Constantine’s time. I’ve never seen one in person—only pictures from before my parents were born.”
Kadie glanced up and around the room before her eyes settled back on Duke. “Do you have a pocketknife?”
He gave her the kind of look that said, really? Kadie’s eyes drooped, aware of what she had done. Curt approached Duke and held his hand out. Duke reluctantly removed the Gerber from his pocket and handed it to Curt.
Kadie turned to Curt. “I know you have one. Give me your pocketknife, or you can give me his.”
Curt looked at Patricia, who nodded.
The phony Delta soldier fished his pocketknife out of his pocket and handed it to her. She opened the blade and probed the edges of the wax seal gently. The blade slipped under the wax a little further each time.
Duke sat patiently as Kadie took her time. She was in her element and knew the importance of being careful. After nearly two minutes, she made a final push, and the wax popped free, fully intact. She slid the seal to the side, careful not to damage it. Folding the pocketknife, she handed it back to Curt. Brian knelt at the other end of the coffee table and anxiously watched his sister work. Kadie smiled at him, then opened the parchment. The writing was still legible, as far as he could tell from this distance. The room was silent, while Kadie’s eyes seemed to dance across the page.
Kadie took a deep breath as she unfolded the parchment. Her biggest fear now was the letter falling apart at the folds. She was surprised, however, at the strength of the parchment. The document was in fantastic shape, her fear unfounded. Perhaps it was because there was no oxygen in the tablet. How was that even possible back then? It didn’t matter. She needed to translate the contents of the letter and do it fast.
Her eyes scanned the parchment. With every word, a smile crept across her face.
“Well?” Patricia grew more impatient with each moment.
“Give me a minute,” Kadie re-read the handwritten letter. The Latin text flowed effortlessly; her eyes started to water as she realized the historical significance of what she had in her hands. It was a unique find, and there was nothing in existence to compare it to.
“It’s a short letter from Constantine to his one of his sons, Constantius. He was the middle child from Constantine’s wife, Fausta.”
“Why write to the second child?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he wrote to them all, and this is the only one we’ve found. Perhaps he thought Constantius would be the one he thought would succeed him as emperor.”
“I thought his oldest was expected to be his successor?” Patricia said. She’s done her homework, Kadie thought.
“Originally, yes. Crispus was the oldest child of Constantine’s first wife. That is, until Fausta, his stepmother, seduced him. She wasn’t much older than he was—one of the great scandals over the centuries. When Constantine found out, he was more heartbroken than angry, with his son, anyway. He had them both put to death, although not publicly. It was a well-hidden scandal.
“Helena, Constantine’s mother, was devastated. The first-born grandchild was her favorite. Crispus’ execution was the trigger for her journey to the Holy Land and her quest for the artifacts surrounding the life and death of Christ.”
Across the coffee table, Brian’s eyes sparkled as she weaved the tale of Constantine’s mother scouring Israel for Holy artifacts.
“Enough,” Curt said, cutting her story short. “What does the letter say?”
Kadie breathed deep, then read the letter aloud in English.
* * *
“Constantius, Naissus is your goal. There you will find the Cathedral of Helena.
In her home and shrine of honor. To locate the vase, you must find its final resting place.
As man emerges from stone, the sun radiates from his head.
The rivers weave between subtle mountains of granite and stone.
The wedge in the valley leads to the entrance of the city of channels.
What was once here is now gone.
It stands among his mother’s treasures.
Χ. Ρ.