The Fourth Nail: An Historical Novel

by Paul Argentini

  “You are a good friend. That would be Captain Morgana, Teresa’s father. I’m sure he’s not overjoyed I took his daughter away. Should he get his hands on me, even if he knew I was going to be the father of his first grandchild he would strip me of my skin. I would not put such a burden on you to conceal us. I believe they will go north of Rome first.”

  “Burden? Bah! Enjoying all this I would not be if not for you. My life I owe you. Ask what you will.”

  “Augustus, my friend, my first and major chore is to get to Sicilia where I will have as safe a haven there as you offer me here. There, I will have the peace to write my diary in time for me to deliver them to you so you may take them with you on the Silk Route. I need a plan.”

  Augustus nodded. He was thinking. He came up with what he believed was a workable plan.

  That evening Marius, Teresa, and Antonius were brought to a ship away from the main harbor. It was sailed by Augustus’s nephew. The destination was Sicilia.

  At about the same time, openly performed, another young couple that resembled Marius and Teresa somewhat, and a boy, boarded a ship at the harbor. Before it sailed, the captain seemed to carelessly reveal that he would not return for quite a while because he was taking his passengers to the Starvros Islands, far to the east.

  A day later, Marius, Teresa, and Antonius landed on the beach just below the home of Claudio and Clemina.

  Marius was in awe at the warm, welcoming reception they received. The elderly couple, alone, and lonely, was anxious for company and could not do enough for their guests.

  Marius explained their situation, and the need for security and secrecy. They were assured this would be their safe haven inasmuch as all their relatives and neighbors were a tight-knit clan who would protect them.

  Marius found this to be so. The days and months passed in idyllic fashion. Teresa and Antonius would go out with Claudio in his boat while Marius applied himself to the scrolls. Late in the afternoons they would go for short hikes, or sit under the grape arbor drinking wine and making plans for the day the scrolls were completed.

  Then, Augustus summoned Marius to the mainland.

  Marius found his friend in his toga seated in the shade of the garden grape arbor before a cup of wine and a dish filled with an assortment of fresh fruits. He rose and moved quickly toward Marius.

  “Hallo! My dear Marius! My message! Soon enough you could not come!”

  They embraced, rapping each other solidly on the back.

  “Thank you. Did your cousin say it was Captain Morgana who was pursuing us?”

  They sat at the table where Augustus poured a cup of wine for his friend. “Marius of Rome is being sought by a small troop of Praetorian Guardsmen. Perhaps Sicilia is not as secluded as it should be. The scrolls will be completed how soon?”

  “A bit more to do. My concern is to avoid being taken back to Rome to face my father-in-law. How close could the soldiers be?”

  “Closer than you think!” Sergeant Bastoni’s voice boomed from behind them.

  They turned to see the sergeant in full armor and headdress striding toward them, a smirk etched in his face. Holding himself, tall and stiff, he took up a position at the side of the table. He grabbed the flagon of wine and poured himself a cup. “Happy to see you, Marius, and meet you friend, Augustus.” He drained the cup, and pounded himself on the chest. “Dead I should be two month, but still I live. I owe you, Marius.”

  “Then it is you, not Captain Morgana that pursues me?” Marius asked.

  “Yes. Me. Bastoni. Just me.”

  “You? What do you want with me?” Marius asked.

  Bastoni stared hard at Marius. “I want relics that make me good. I want relics you have that make sick people good.”

  “So you can use them to make people better or to make yourself a fortune?” Marius asked.

  “Just give to me!” Bastoni emphasized as he rapped the table. “I want. I no want braying of ass. I want relics!”

  “They are meant for the people, all the people, not just one, you. They are well-hidden,” Marius said.

  “I know!” Bastoni shouted. “I search house where I bring scrolls to you. Where you do magic. At house, news come of Beatrice, woman who live there, was travel to the north and west. She have lots of gold to take, so she hire guards. Then she be discover murdered the gold and the guards also missing. I wonder if she find the relics and sell them for the gold? A good thought! Yes? But I catch her guards and they give up just gold they steal. I wait to hear of word about relics. Finally I tear house down and look for relics. Three days riots in Rome there was after news of relics come out. I tell all, yes, about Bastoni! I know is true what they say of relics!”

  “Bastoni, I can see how greed overcomes your sense of gratitude,” Marius said, “but make up your mind, you will never possess the relics.”

  Augustus touched Marius and in a low tone asked, “What are these ‘relics?’” Marius held up his hand putting off an answer.

  Bastoni turned toward the main house and signaled. A troop of soldiers marched towards them. “I get relics, Marius, if to drag you, you wife, and you son in chain back to Rome!”

  “Captain Morgana should welcome the sight of his daughter in chains,” Marius said. “Leave now, Bastoni, and leave in peace. Forget the relics. No one knows for sure what they do. You don’t know what made you better.”

  “You give me more life!” Bastoni screamed. “That enough for me! Tell me where relics be! I make you tell me!”

  “Never. You will never get your hands on them,” Marius stood.

  Shaking angrily, Bastoni, shouted, “I beated you balls black and blue! You lose to me! I can do again!” Bastoni nodded his head, “I can do again!” he repeated as he looked around at the soldiers who had gathered in a semi-circle under the arbor. Several of the guardsmen Marius recognized who were at the challenge nodded, smirking.

  Marius let his hands fall to his sides. “Go away, Bastoni. Go back to Rome.”

  “I no have to pound you! If you no tell me I take you wife and pounce her all night!” the soldier said. “And when I through with her, I take you son and make him bawl like baby lamb like I pull guts from his belly!” Bastoni marched to the front of the table in front of

  Marius. “...while coward that you be look, hear, smell, what I do!”

  “You will do nothing to nobody, Bastoni. Nothing of the sort. Leave here,” Marius said ominously.

  “You fight me!” Bastoni commanded. “You lose, you give me relics!”

  “No. I do not want to fight you,” Marius answered.

  Striking out like a snake, Bastoni slapped Marius as he spit out, “Coward! Fight me!”

  “I cannot fight you, Bastoni,” Marius said.

  “Cannot or will not?” Bastoni asked.

  “I cannot take from you what was given to you again,” Marius said quietly. “Take your new life and enjoy it.”

  Augustus stood. “Soldier! Take heed. Worthy opponent you may be, but Marius I saw put down giants! Combat with him is death to you.”

  “Mind you business, Fat One, I slap you, too!” Bastoni said as he swaggered to pick up the flagon and cup.

  “In my own home dare you not!” Augustus exclaimed.

  Bastoni put down the flagon. As he stepped toward Augustus he drew his sword and used the flat side of it to strike him in the chest. It sent Augustus flying backwards into his chair.

  Marius lashed out, striking Bastoni in the face with the flat of his hand, and then a second blow to the other cheek with the back of his hand. “Behave yourself in a civil manner when you are a guest!” Marius said.

  Bastoni turned to a soldier. “Give him sword and shield!” He turned to Marius, and said, “Take! or I cut you arms off!”

  Marius walked around the table and took the sword offered to him.

  “Take shield,” Bastoni declared, “You need.” He laughed.

  Marius impassively stared at Bastoni. “Not for you, I won’t also need a shield.
” All the humiliation and terrible feelings he harbored after he was forced to throw the fight with Bastoni flooded Marius’s being.

  “You forget,” Bastoni said, “I break knuckles and bones on you hand!”

  “You mean, these?” Marius said holding up the sword showing the healed knuckles. He held up his other hand to show it, too, was unbroken.

  Bastoni stared at the hands, wrinkling his brow. “Not matter. Now I just cut them off! Not matter! You not have relics to put back again! I get from you! Ha!” He laughed uproariously at his own dark humor. He raised his sword and swung at Marius.

  Marius parried the blow. “Stop and go home, Bastoni. Enjoy what life you have left to live. It was a double gift!”

  Bastoni swung the blade in a semi-circle hitting Marius’s blade solidly. “This time I cut you balls off!” As Marius was moved back, Bastoni picked up the tempo and struck faster and faster. Marius parried and blocked his blows.

  When a post stopped Marius’s retreat, Bastoni charged swinging wildly. A backhanded thrust blocked the blow from landing in his side, instead it slid off the blade and the flat of it smacked Marius solidly in the side. Bastoni pressed in for the attack. To defend himself, Marius swung the blade, the flat of it striking Bastoni’s shield squarely. The surprise and pain of it stitched itself across the soldier’s face.

  When Bastoni raised his sword, Marius repeated the same blow, this time putting into it every ounce of strength he could muster. The sound echoed in the confined space. “You can still stop, Bastoni!”

  His answer was to bring a blow down that started behind his shoulder. Marius nimbly stepped aside and watched the blade dig into a heavy wooden tabletop.

  Furious, Bastoni tore off his helmet, and charged Marius with blow after blow pushing him out into the garden.

  Marius jumped into a fountain. Bastoni swung. Marius ducked. The blade decapitated a cherub. “Bastoni!” Marius shouted. “Stop! Or you force me to stop you.”

  Heaving for breath, Bastoni screamed, “Do...you... worst!”

  Marius mentally went back to the forge with Horace screaming for the heaviest blow he could deliver. He swung. The blade struck just above the sword’s guard knocking the blade from Bastoni’s hand.

  The soldier, eyes agape, looked at his stinging empty hand, then at the sword lying on the ground, then at Marius.

  “Let it stay right there, Bastoni, you have nothing to prove,” Marius said.

  “Sword!” Bastoni screamed to the soldiers, “Sword!” A soldier stepped forward and handed him a sword. Bastoni grabbed it, and full of fury, attacked Marius. In his retreat, Marius fell. Bastoni was on him, pressing the attack. “I win you again!” he roared.

  Marius rolled out of the way. Then rolled again, and yet a third time going under a garden bench as Bastoni fought to keep the advantage.

  Marius got to his feet and directed a heavy blow to the center of Bastoni’s shield. It threw the soldier backwards. Frustration showing on his face, Bastoni charged using the shield to propel Marius backwards into a fountain. Bastoni fell heavily upon him. The men clasped each other, rolling first one way, then the other, the water in a broil.

  In the turmoil, Bastoni reached down to pull a dagger from his waist. He raised it high above his head, and started to bring the point down toward Marius’s chest. Marius reached up to grab the wrist and gave more power to the arc to smash Bastoni’s hand holding the blade into the edge of the fountain. The blade sank in the water. Marius stood up, and looked down at Bastoni, floating on his back.

  Marius stepped out of the fountain where the swords lay. He started to walk back to the grape arbor.

  Bastoni threw himself out of the water, over the edge of the fountain, and grabbed one of the swords, and went after Marius swinging.

  When Marius heard the splashing water. He leaped to one side to let the blade go by him. He took three strides, picked up a sword, and turned to face Bastoni.

  The soldier screamed as he charged.

  Marius, his face black with solemnity, stepped away from the blow and shoved his sword under Bastoni’s armor pushing it down through his armpit into his chest.

  Bastoni took a half-step, his face filled with disbelief, and collapsed dying.

  It was mid-afternoon, after the soldiers departed taking Bastoni’s body with them that Marius and Augustus met in the living room.

  Marius spoke slowly and with thought. “Augustus, you have seen the power of the relics just by those who would covet them for their own purposes. No one is safe. I will do everything in my power to deliver the scrolls to you before the next moon. They are a record of my destined trip to Jerusalem. More, they tell the complete story of the fourth nail, how it came to be, and how Jesus directed me to take it to Rome. I call the scrolls The Marius Diary. For safekeeping for all humanity, you will take them with you on what we call today The Silk Route. It is the route from which Rome obtains the silks from a foreign country, which we make our vestments. The destination you have in mind is a stone palace called Tzndrl in a location you call Kyrgyz. Yes?” Augustus nodded emphatically in agreement. “I will also bring Antonius, my son. I must ask you a big and personal favor. I would like it if you would take Antonius with you. It would do three things: keep him safe; educate him; and provide you companionship and a worker. Yes?”

  “My honor, Marius. It will be my privilege and pleasure to have your son as a companion on the journey. Assure you I do that scrolls delivered be they to the hidden religious house mid-way on Silk Route. No place else be better hidden, kept safe, and preserved for mankind, which you wish. Obvious it is the scrolls to be out of Rome’s circle. My personal word to you I bring, wherever you may be, on the successful completion of task when I pass through Rome on my journey back here, if you are there.”

  “My wise and good friend, what are your thoughts about my leaving a record of the location of The Marius Diary in Rome?”

  “No, I do not agree. We know its value to Mankind. Good that it be hidden from grasping fingers now and of the future. You must leave it for an emissary to be sent directly to re-live The Marius Diary and to learn its location.”

  “Well, then, there is no need to write the diary! The emissary will know the story and how the fourth nail came to be!”

  “That is true, by whatever power this is done, only knowledge will be done. What do you call it when one has a belief but there is no physical proof?”

  “I believe the word you are looking for is ‘faith.’”

  “Yes! Faith is good for the faithful! Yes! But what is needed for those of little faith?”

  “A visible, actual, durable thing. Like my sword.”

  “Yes! Exactly. And in the world to come, what will those of little faith need to understand the fourth nail?”

  “Of course! The fourth nail itself.”

  “There you have it, and your diary will tell them exactly where you were told to put it. That will be the purpose of the emissary. You have done well, Marius, for the fourth nail.”

  “And you have done equally as well, Augustus. May the fourth nail benefit all Mankind today and through the ages.”

  "Next full moon my caravan leaves.”

  “Augustus, my dear and good friend,” Marius said, “Look for us first on your way south in Rome. I’m inclined to think my father-in-law, Captain Morgana may do well in battle, but is no match for his sposa who will care more for being a grandmother than being the wife of a stubborn, old man.

  “We will look for you in Rome, and if not there, then in Sicilia. Yes?”

  “Yes. I would like confirmation of the delivery of The Marius Diary to this far away and hidden repository to which you deliver it.”

  “We’re both aware, Marius, that anything can happen. The best is that I will deliver them safely to where they will be safe for eternity.”

  “And the worse?”

  “The worse is that you will have to write the diary all over again!”

  Those both laughed.

&
nbsp; “But,” Augustus said, “I’m involved but not involved, there is a question in my mind. The diary is so it will be recorded someplace this significant piece of history. It would be easier for me to seal the diary in a jar, and drop it in the middle of the ocean! Who knows? Who cares? You will have done your job. Whether the diary is on the Silk Road or in the middle of the ocean, who would know? Who would care? How would anyone discover what you have written and know of the historical significance of the fourth nail?”

  “Excellent question, Augustus. I have stayed awake many an evening pondering just such a conundrum. This came to me in my sleep. Do you believe man has a spirit? A sense that lives on after death? This person I crucified in Jerusalem, Angelus would tell me he could feel his presence. I’m not surprised to have the feeling of his presence, too. The answer I received is that the spirit of Marius of Rome, because his history has been recorded, will walk the earth again.”

  “Marius will walk the earth again?”

  “Yes. It has been so destined.”

  “No disrespect, Marius, but I’ll believe that when I see elephants fly.”

  “Augustus, I believe everything has a greater purpose than its original intent.”

  “For instance?”

  “This cup. It is meant as a vessel to hold wine. Now watch. I fill your cup and I fill my cup. If it had just one purpose, it would merely slake my thirst. Watch what happens when I raise my cup...”

  “...and I raise mine...”

  “You sense our bond?”

  “Yes. That I do. I understand.”

  “Now understand that the fourth nail was not made just to participate in a crucifixion, but it had a greater purpose, which you nor I will ever get to know.”

  “Like what?”

  “I have no idea. I do know I was destined to make the fourth nail, to participate in the Crucifixion, and to bring it to Rome where I buried it. The significance of my act will come to light when the next Marius relives my life, and makes known the story of the Fourth Nail.”

  “Yes. That could happen.”

  “And now, see? You have faith, too.”