by Chloe Palov
But a ghost fire followed like a deadly tempest
Repentant for his sins, the befouled shepherd did penance
Then homeward he sped, the ill-gotten treasure left on holy shores
From Jerusalem, a company of knights rode out in heathen lands
Each of them tried to profit from the other on the field of Esdraelon
They battled to the death, the virtuous knight winning the field
And with his show of valour, he kept the holy covenant
This same worthy knight went from sundry lands to England
He carried a chest and bright gold to the town where he was born
With open eyes he now saw the black plague that he wrought
And when the wretched knight saw this, his death was well deserved
The trusted goose sorely wept for all of them were dead
I know not how the world be served by such adversity
But if a man with a fully devout heart seek the blessed martyr
There in the veil between two worlds, the hidden truth be found
As she wordlessly lowered the sheet of paper to the table, Cædmon guessed from Edie’s frown that she was as befuddled by the translation as she had been by the original text.
‘I suggest that we take the allegorical and symbolic references in turn. Phrases such as “the merciless west wind”, the “befouled shepherd” and “the veil between two worlds” should be thought of as pieces of code which have been strategically placed within the quatrains. The key to solving the riddle will hinge on how we decode the symbols contained within each line of verse.’
‘And what if Galen loaded his word puzzle with a bunch of mixed signals?’ she asked, still frowning.
‘Oh, I have no doubt that Galen deliberately inserted semiotic decoys into the quatrains. The medieval mind was quite nimble when it came to inserting secret messages into seemingly innocuous text.’
Edie stared at the verse. ‘Something tells me that we’re gonna need a CIA code breaker.’
‘Here, take this, for instance,’ he said, pointing to the first line of text. ‘“The merciless west wind rode forth from Solomon’s city jubilantly singing.” I detect a bit of linguistic legerdemain at work. Clearly, this refers to Shishak leaving Jerusalem after successfully pillaging Solomon’s Temple. Death then followed in the Egyptians’ wake, the first quatrain ending with Shishak leaving the pilfered treasure behind as he and his army scurried back to Egypt.’
Edie’s eyes suspiciously narrowed. ‘Unless I’m greatly mistaken, you’re actually enjoying yourself.’
‘Who doesn’t enjoy the intricacies of a well-constructed word puzzle?’
‘Well, me, for starters,’ his companion groused. ‘I’m more of a Sudoku person. You know, the only reason we’re sitting here in Duke Humphrey’s Library is because we assume that when Galen of Godmersham composed his quatrains, he was actually leaving clues as to where he hid the gold chest.’
‘That is our basic assumption,’ he said with a nod.
‘Then I guess it’s already crossed your mind that someone may have deciphered the quatrains and recovered the treasure years ago.’
‘Since the cart has yet to pull the horse, we shall deal with that if and when it presents itself.’
Edie smiled, a teasing glint in her eyes. ‘I think this is where I’m supposed to make a rude comparison between you and the back end of a horse.’
Unable to help himself, he stared into those lively brown eyes. Since the kiss on the coach, the air between them had become more sexually charged. He wondered if the storm would pass or if they would be caught in driving rain.
‘Shall we continue?’ Tapping the pencil on the quatrains, he refocused her attention.
Catching him by surprise, Edie snatched the pencil out of his hand. ‘This is just a guess, mind you, but I think Galen’s puzzle is configured like a square.’
41
‘In early-fourteenth-century art a chest or box of any sort was always depicted as a flat, two-dimensional square.’ Making no attempt to hide his condescension, the bespectacled scholar glanced at Boyd Braxton. ‘Once perspective was introduced into the artist’s grab bag during the Renaissance, all of that changed, of course.’
Arrogant little piss ant, Stan silently fumed as he stared at the archaic verses projected onto the dining-room wall. Had the lank-haired weasel been under his military command, he would have kicked his scrawny ass between his narrow shoulders. At the moment, however, he needed the scholar’s expertise. And cooperation. Although he suspected it would take a full measure and a half of self-control to keep his temper in check.
‘To Galen of Godmersham’s mind a flat two-dimensional square would have been no different than the three-dimensional medieval chest your consortium is hoping to uncover. You guys following?’
Stan thought of how the Ark of the Covenant would have been illustrated in a church or cathedral during the fourteenth century. The weasel was right: more than likely, it would have been depicted as a plain four-sided square.
‘Carry on,’ he ordered, not about to reply to the other man’s question. Nor did any of his men say so much as a word. He’d told them point blank that he’d shaft each and every one of them with a steel reinforcing rod if just one let the words ‘Ark of the Covenant’ pass his lips.
‘Now I think the phrase in the first quatrain “Salomon’s cite” refers to Galen being in Jerusalem on Crusade. And in case you guys haven’t figured it out yet, the first quatrain is also the first side of our metaphorical square.’
Again Stan remained silent. In truth, he didn’t give a rat’s ass about the first quatrain, assuming it referred to Shishak not Galen of Godmersham. That part of the story he was well acquainted with, since it was written in the Old Testament, Kings I, Verse 14 that Shishak ‘came up against Jerusalem’ and that he then ‘took away the treasures of the house of the Lord’. What he was interested in were the cryptic messages contained within the next three quatrains. Somewhere in those archaic verses Galen of Godmersham revealed where he hid the Ark, the sacred chest that enabled God to dwell among men. And from which God would lead his holy army against the infidels in the last days.
Feeling his excitement rise, Stan glanced at the watch strapped to his left wrist.
Four days, nine hours and twenty-six minutes until the start of Eid al-Adha, the Muslim holy day.
Which meant he had four days, nine hours and twenty-six minutes to find the Ark of the Covenant.
42
‘Ah yes. A square. Spot on,’ Cædmon enthused, smiling. ‘A quatrain is, after all, a poem with four lines.’
‘And Galen composed four quatrains,’ Edie added, the number four having been the giveaway.
‘Not to mention that the Ark of the Covenant was usually depicted in medieval art as a four-sided square.’ Still smiling, Cædmon winked at her. ‘You must excel at Sudoku. Now, what about this metaphorical square?’
Pleased that Cædmon wanted her input, she gave it her best shot. ‘I think Galen was trying to compose a chain of custody for the Ark of the Covenant. And he begins the chain right here in the first quatrain with Pharaoh Shishak taking the Ark from Solomon’s Temple. From what Sir Kenneth told us earlier today, we know that the pharaoh left an offering – the Ark – on the Plain of Esdraelon.’
‘Where it was happened upon some twenty-two centuries later by a roving band of Hospitaller knights led by Galen of Godmersham.’ He pointed to the second quatrain. ‘It would appear that the knights fought one another to the death over the treasure, Galen the lone man left standing on the field after the mêlée.’
Lips pursed, Edie stared at the last line of the quatrain in question. ‘What does this mean, “And with his show of valour, he kept the holy covenant”?’
‘It probably means that Galen of Godmersham became the self-appointed guardian of the Ark.’
‘So, we’re definitely on the right track, huh?’
‘I believe so.’
In all honesty Edie didn’t know how she felt about that. While excited that they were working their way through the verses, she was at the same time uneasy about the whole thing. A little voice inside her head kept saying, Leave it be. Over and over.
‘And it’s clear from the third quatrain that Galen took the Ark to England, specifically to the place of his birth, Godmersham,’ Cædmon continued, oblivious to her unease. ‘Correlating precisely with the information listed in the Feet of Fines property records. Now, this I find rather interesting,’ he said, pointing to the third line of the third quatrain. ‘“With open eyes he now saw the black plague that he wrought.”’
‘It could be that Galen believed the Ark was responsible for the plague that hit England in 1348.’
‘He had ample reason to think so, the pustules that erupted on faces and bodies during the plague uncannily similar to the lesions and boils that befell the Philistines. God’s punishment for the theft of the Ark.’
Cædmon’s last remark made Edie wonder at the punishment for finding the Ark of the Covenant. Normally, she wasn’t one to believe in curses or hexes, but the evidence was damning. Literally. The Old Testament Bible stories and Galen’s quatrains both came stamped with DANGER in big, bold, threatening type. Skull and crossbones included.
‘Perhaps Galen hid the darned thing in the hope that it would bring an end to the plague. Too bad he didn’t have the Stones of Fire to protect himself.’ Too bad they didn’t have the Stones of Fire, Edie silently added, her unease now laced with fear, the type of fear that made one double-check all the doors and sleep with a nightlight.
‘The last line of the third quatrain was probably composed while Galen was on his deathbed,’ Cædmon blithely continued, unintentionally throwing fuel onto the fire.
Knowing that the only way to combat fear was to take decisive action, Edie grabbed a sheet of blank paper.
‘Okay, let’s take our square analogy.’ Pencil in hand, she carefully drew a square. ‘And fill in the Ark’s chain of custody as detailed by Galen in the quatrains.’
‘That’s excellent.’ Clearly accustomed to being in a library, Cædmon managed to keep his enthusiasm to a hushed whisper. ‘You know, you were absolutely right. Galen did use his four quatrains as a poetic cryptogam. The Ark’s current whereabouts must be encoded in the lines of the fourth quatrain.’
She stared at the enigmatic fourth quatrain.
A trusted goose. A man with a fully devout heart. And the veil between two worlds.
‘This would be a whole heck of a lot easier if Galen had simply drawn an X-marks-the-spot treasure map,’ she muttered.
‘Had he done that, the Ark would have been unearthed centuries ago. Sir Kenneth mentioned that the encrypted quatrains have stumped more than one treasure hunter.’
‘While we’re on the topic, this might be a good time to mention that I’m starting to worry about Colonel MacFarlane having the Stones of Fire in his possession. You said it yourself: not only was the breastplate a protective shield, it was also used as a divination tool, enabling the wearer to communicate with God. Like a two-way radio. If MacFarlane finds the Ark of the Covenant, he’ll not only have the best intelligence device known to mankind – the Stones of Fire – he’ll also have an enormously powerful weapon. You can’t deny that makes for a deadly duo.’
For several long seconds, Cædmon held her gaze. ‘Then we’ll do all in our power to ensure that doesn’t happen.’ Although the words were quietly spoken, he had about him an air of fierce determination. For one brief, blurry second, she saw him decked out in chain mail, fighting to the death on the Plain of Esdraelon.
Returning his attention to the Edie’s diagram, Cædmon tapped his finger on the fourth side of the square. ‘This is where we get into really murky water.’
‘Actually, this is where we need to call it quits,’ she matter-of-factly announced, unable to keep the jet lag at bay one second longer.
Cædmon patted her on the back. ‘Come now. Time to brainstorm. Group dynamics and all that.’
She dolefully shook her head. ‘I need to refuel. How about we get grab some pub grub? If I remember correctly, they’re serving seafood salad and lentil soup at the Isis Room.’
‘Er, right. An excellent suggestion.’
Not for one second was Edie fooled, able to see the disappointment in Cædmon’s blue eyes. He might be able to manage an all-nighter, but there was no way she could tackle the fourth quatrain without some much-needed food. Followed by some much-needed sleep.
While Cædmon returned the leather-bound volumes and cotton gloves to the stern-faced librarian, Edie stuffed the pencils and notepaper into their flight bag.
A few minutes later, Cædmon’s protective arm around her shoulders, they made their way along the crowded pavement. Locals, heads ducked against the cold wet wind, scurried along. Casting a quick sideways glance down a shadowed alleyway, Edie had the sudden feeling that something malevolent, even deadly, lurked nearby.
43
‘… at which time Galen of Godmersham succumbed to the Black Death, the great plague of 1348.’
With his pointer Marshall Mendolson underlined the last line of the third quatrain. He had given in and begun deciphering the verses. These guys were a tough crowd, the older dude with the buzz cut the scariest of them all. He wanted the goods, no two ways about it. Marshall doubted the guy even knew his name. Earlier he had overheard one of his steroid-enhanced bodyguards refer to him as ‘the lil Harvard prick’.
‘And the fourth quatrain, what of it?’ his benefactor pressed, making no attempt to hide his impatience.
Marshall struck a thoughtful pose, doing a fair imitation of one of his favourite Harvard professors. ‘Hmm… good question.’ And one he had no intention of truthfully answering.
Did these Neanderthals really think they could outsmart a Harvard graduate?
It had taken only a cursory reading of Galen’s verses for him to figure out that the arca in the third quatrain was an oblique reference to the Ark of the Covenant. Not the medieval chest the head dude had hired him to find. These guys wanted him to hunt down the Ark of the Covenant so they could cash in on it, his cut being a paltry seventy thousand dollars. After he paid off his student loans, there wouldn’t be enough left for a Happy Meal at McDonald’s.
Yeah, well, think again.
Jesus. The freaking Ark of the Covenant. According to the Bible, the Ark could raze fortified cities, part seas and kick some serious ass. And if you believed that, he had some mountain property in Florida to sell you. Although you didn’t have to be a Bible thumper to know that the Ark of the Covenant was a treasure of immeasurable worth. As in more money than he could ever count.
Hello, Tahiti and a life of indolent leisure surrounded by bare-breasted island beauties.
Given that his mother had once sued the Fairfax County school board over the ‘one nation under God’ phrase in the pledge of allegiance – the ground-swell of religious fervour nearly swallowing Adele Mendolson whole – his finding the Ark of the Covenant would be ironic, to say the least.
This one’s for you, Mother.
‘The “goos” reference in the fourth quatrain is pretty straightforward,’ he answered after a long drawn-out pause, figuring some straight talk in order, every good lie cloaked in the truth.
‘You’re talking about the goose that laid the golden egg, right?’ This from the brawny bruiser named Boyd, the man straddling an expensive Sheraton chair like a lap dancer straddling a paying crotch.
‘Very good, Sir Rambo. Go to the head of the class.’ A measured half-beat later, he mockingly exclaimed, ‘Not!’ At that moment he wanted nothing more than to smash the muscled behemoth’s face into the floorboards. As had been done to him by countless bullies in years gone by.
Knowing he could go only so far, he switched gears, once more the erudite Harvard grad. ‘In the medieval lexicon, the goose represented vigilance. And given the fact that Galen composed his quatrains just
prior to his death, it specifically means vigilance in death.’
Liking the sound of that, Marshall smiled, having just figured out how he could outmanoeuvre his benefactor. ‘Line two of the last quatrain is simply a “Woe is me” commentary on the plague,’ he continued, barely able to suppress an excited grin. ‘That takes us to line three, which is an offhand reference to Saint –’
‘I want to know where Galen hid his chest,’ the older dude hissed, his eyes narrowing as he stared him down.
‘Well, now, that is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it?’ Or a thousand times that amount.
It was all he could do not to break into song. Like the bearded Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof. Except he really would be a rich man. No if about it.
Stepping over to his laptop, Marshall clicked several keys, projecting the next slide – a page from a nearly-seven-hundred-year-old document – onto the wall. ‘From the Feet of Fines record I discovered that Galen donated a hefty number of golden objects to –’ he snatched his handwritten notes from the table ‘– St Lawrence the Martyr church in Godmersham. That being the “holy blissful martir” of the fourth quatrain. Like most medieval men, Galen no doubt believed that he could buy his way into heaven.’ Or bribe his way into heaven, depending on your point of view. ‘Put it all together and my guess is that Galen, quite literally, took the arca to his grave.’
The older dude chewed on that for a few seconds. Then, obviously an anal sort who liked to verify the facts, he said, ‘Are you saying that the gold chest is buried in Galen of Godmersham’s tomb at St Lawrence the Martyr church?’
‘Yup. That’s as good a hypothesis as any.’ Seeing a flash of annoyance on his benefactor’s face, he hastily added, ‘It was the custom of the time to wrap a corpse in linen, that being the “veyl bitwixen worlds tweye”. Aka the veil between two worlds.’