Hawk Quest

by Robert Lyndon

  ‘You’ll have to take it at a run,’ Vallon said.

  Hero launched himself down the slope, felt his feet skid from under him and toppled into space. A long moment of weightlessness before a jarring collision that filled his head with starbursts of disconnected memory.

  ‘Hero, are you hurt?’

  He sat up groaning and gingerly flexed his limbs. ‘I don’t think so. The fall’s scattered my wits. I can recall something that happened to me when I was about three as if it were yesterday. Two of my sisters rolled me down the stairs.’

  ‘If you have any wits left, use them to get out.’

  Hero felt the package. He picked himself up and stumbled towards the doorway. Vallon grasped his wrist and yanked him out. ‘Have you still got it?’

  Hero’s head cleared. The shores of the lake lay blanched by moonlight. Sparks whirled up from the Seljuks’ fire. He patted his chest and nodded.

  They staggered towards their campsite, Vallon peg-legging on his crutch. He sank down with a groan and Hero muffled him in a blanket before lighting a fire. Flames crackled through the scrub. They pulled themselves close to the heat and Hero placed a pot of rice on the flames. Vallon blew through puckered lips and hunched his shoulders. ‘God, it’s cold.’

  Hero kept feeling the package under his tunic.

  Vallon gestured. ‘Aren’t you going to look at it?’

  ‘Don’t you think we should wait until we’re out of Seljuk territory?’

  Vallon glanced towards their escorts’ camp. ‘Boke can’t read or write. It won’t mean a thing to him. Let’s see what we’ve got.’

  Hero took out the package and undid the wrapping. Inside were two documents, one a letter, the other a book in codex form. He took out the letter first. ‘It’s the same writing material as Prester John’s letter, the same script.’

  ‘What does it say?’

  Hero squinted. ‘Here’s a description of a desert that travellers must cross before they reach his realm. There is a waterless sea and its billows are of sand that surge in waves and never rest. In this desert dwell many imps and demons. Three days’ journey from the sea of sand you must ascend a waterless river of stones … ’

  ‘What about the gospel? That’s what interests me.’

  Hero hid the letter in the casket’s secret compartment and opened the book. ‘It’s written in old Greek on papyrus.’

  ‘Read it.’

  ‘The ink’s faded. I need more light.’

  Vallon heaped the fire with what remained of the scrub. Flames flared four feet high. Hero held the pages towards them. ‘The beginning is just as Cosmas transcribed it, and then it says: These are the secret words which the living Jesus spoke, and Judas Thomas called Didymus wrote them and said, “Whoever finds the interpretations of these words shall not taste death”.’

  He turned the page, tracing the text with his fingers. ‘This is interesting. It’s a section describing Jesus’s boyhood and education. None of the other gospels does that.’

  ‘A rare prize indeed.’

  The fire was already beginning to die down. Hero held the book closer to the light and selected a page at random. He peered at the script, his lips moving.

  Vallon shuffled closer. ‘Don’t keep it to yourself.’

  Hero spoke softly, almost tentatively. ‘Jesus said to his disciples: “Compare me to someone and tell me whom I am like.”

  ‘Simon Peter answered, “You are like a righteous angel.”

  ‘Matthew replied, “You are like a wise philosopher.”

  ‘Thomas was troubled and said, “Master, my mouth is incapable of saying whom you are like.”

  ‘Then Jesus took Thomas aside and told him three things. When Thomas returned to his companions, they asked him, “What did Jesus say to you?” Thomas replied, “If I told you even one of the things which he told me, you will gather stones and throw them at me. A fire will come out of the stones and burn you up.”’

  Vallon leaned forward, intent. ‘What was it that Jesus told him?’

  Hero had been moving the book closer and closer to the waning light. ‘It’s no good. I can’t see.’

  ‘I’ll light a lamp,’ said Vallon. He pulled a glowing stub from the fire and got a lamp burning. He handed it to Hero. ‘Go on from where you stopped. What secrets did Jesus tell Thomas?’

  Hero illuminated the page and peered at it. His eyes rose wide with wonder and his mouth opened.

  Vallon laughed. ‘What? Are the secrets so profound that you can’t share them with a hell-bound sinner?’

  But Hero wasn’t looking at Vallon. His hand rose trembling. ‘Sir.’

  Vallon whirled. Black against the stars a dozen mounted figures advanced. ‘Holy God!’

  Faruq rode up at the centre of the Seljuk line. ‘Did you really think you could outwit his Excellency?’ He clicked his fingers. ‘Give it to me.’

  ‘It’s only an old book that Hero reads to me at night to pass the time.’

  ‘Give it to me.’

  Hero handed it over. Faruq flicked through the pages. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I told you — a book of stories that help while away the hours of darkness.’

  Chinua assisted Faruq off his horse. The Chief Secretary held the gospel over the embers. ‘Then you won’t lose anything more than idle entertainment if I burn it.’

  Hero and Vallon didn’t speak.

  Faruq dropped the gospel onto the embers. Hero flung himself forward, grabbed the book and brushed away the sparks. Chinua aimed his sword at his throat and tore the gospel from his grasp.

  ‘Stories,’ said Faruq. ‘His Excellency knew that you hadn’t told him the whole story.’ He slapped the book against his hand. ‘I ask you for the last time — what is it? Why is it so important?’

  Vallon met Hero’s eyes, conceding surrender. ‘It’s a lost gospel. The Gospel of Thomas, one of Jesus’s disciples. Walter came by it in Armenia and agreed to give it to Cosmas if he raised the ransom.’

  Faruq held the book up to the stars. ‘You came into his Excellency’s realm to steal a Christian book.’ He shook his head. ‘That is a very serious crime. Very serious.’

  Hero lunged to his feet. ‘Vallon knew nothing about the gospel when he set out on this mission. Cosmas told me about it but I didn’t share the secret until well into our journey. If anyone should suffer, let it be me.’

  Faruq regarded them. ‘What else did you take from the tower?’

  Vallon sat with his back to him, staring into the embers. ‘Nothing.’

  Faruq nodded at Chinua. ‘Search them.’

  Chinua took Hero’s chest and passed it to Faruq. He explored its contents, stroked its carved lid, tapped the sides. Hero watched with bated breath, certain that a man of Faruq’s sophistication would suspect it contained a secret compartment. Faruq looked at him. ‘You took nothing else?’

  ‘Only the gospel.’

  Faruq laid down the chest. His men hoisted him back into the saddle. He raised a finger. ‘His Excellency will be disappointed that you lied to him.’

  Hero and Vallon waited for the pronouncement of punishment. The moon stood high above the centre of the lake, its mottled face mirrored on the still waters.

  Vallon shrugged. ‘His Excellency will be delighted to be proved right.’

  Faruq smiled. ‘It would be too much trouble to take you to the Emir to stand trial.’ He tucked the gospel under one arm. ‘I will keep this and you can go on to Constantinople.’ He began turning his horse, pulled it back. ‘I almost forgot. My ruby ring. It was a gift from the Emir. It means a lot to me.’

  Vallon dug it out and held it up without speaking. Faruq slipped it on and gave an order. The Seljuks swung round and rode towards Boke’s camp.

  Vallon huddled over their own miserable fire, right hand trying to tug the blanket over his left shoulder. An owl shrieked from the top of the tower and jackals yipped out on the plain.

  Hero rose and arranged the blanket. Vallon lifted his eyes and s
aw his devastated hopes mirrored in Hero’s blasted stare. He cupped his hands over his face and shook his head. ‘Don’t say anything. Let’s just sit in silence.’

  LIV

  In the morning they woke to find themselves alone, the Seljuk camp deserted and the road empty in both directions. They ate breakfast in a continuation of last night’s despondent silence, then Vallon went through the laborious business of getting into the saddle.

  Hero mounted his own horse. ‘Which way?’

  Vallon turned his horse north.

  ‘What about Caitlin? She’ll be waiting for you.’

  Vallon kept going. ‘Waiting for what? Look at me. A helpless cripple. Even my plans to join the Varangians lie in tatters. No one would employ a soldier in my condition.’

  Hero caught up. ‘She knows what condition you’re in. She still wants to be with you. I heard her declaration of devotion.’

  ‘A declaration made in the heat of passion. By now she’ll have had time to reflect and her head will rule that she can make a far better match.’

  Hero pranced ahead so that he could look into Vallon’s eyes. ‘You don’t know that for sure. At least give her the chance to make her wishes known.’

  Vallon’s dull stare remained fixed straight ahead. ‘We made an agreement. If we found the gospel, I would return. We haven’t got it and so I go on.’

  ‘She might not want to remain in Suleyman’s court.’

  ‘She has enough silver to reach Constantinople in comfort.’ Vallon waved his good hand. ‘Forget Caitlin.’

  Hero dropped back alongside Vallon. Another fine day, a cloudless porcelain sky over the blinding white salt flats. Flamingos flocked across Salt Lake in lines of bright crimson script. Vallon plodded on, aware that Hero kept glancing at him. ‘I told you I don’t want to hear another word.’

  ‘It’s not Caitlin I’m thinking about.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about the gospel.’

  Vallon uttered a hollow laugh. ‘So have I.’

  ‘Not like that.’ Hero hesitated. ‘I’m not sure you’ll want to hear my thoughts.’

  ‘You can’t make its loss any more painful.’

  Hero drew breath, held it, then released it all at once. ‘I don’t think we would have been able to sell it. That is, nobody in the Church would buy it.’

  Vallon stared at him. ‘You told me that it’s one of the most important books ever written.’

  ‘Important for the wrong reason. If someone did buy it, they would do so only to suppress it. Destroy it.’

  ‘Suppress the testament of one of the apostles? Destroy a piece of the Bible?’

  ‘The Bible is the word of God, but the Church decides what words it wants the world to hear. After reflecting on the sections of the Thomas gospel I was able to read, I’ve concluded that the ecclesiastical authorities wouldn’t want to share them with their flock.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘First, all four canonical gospels state that Jesus was the son of a humble carpenter and Luke says he practised the trade himself. None of them discuss his boyhood or upbringing. They must have had some knowledge of his early life, yet they chose to draw a veil over it. Not Thomas, though. He says that Jesus was the son of a tekton, a master mason or architect who was also a teacher of the Torah, and that Jesus was educated in Jewish law, becoming an eminent rabbi.’

  Vallon winced as his left foot jarred against his horse’s flank. ‘Are you saying that Thomas was a liar and his gospel a fake?’

  ‘No. In fact, I think his version is more convincing than the others. Remember Luke’s story of how, when Jesus was twelve, his parents lost him in Jerusalem? After five days they discovered him in the Temple, astonishing the scholars with his knowledge of religious matters. The elders would have recruited such a prodigy into their schools, singling him out as a future leader. Elsewhere in the gospels, he’s frequently described as “Rabbi” or “Doctor of Law”. Respected Jewish scholars come to hear him preach. They wouldn’t do that with a carpenter.’

  ‘I don’t see why the Church would reject the gospel because Thomas claims that Jesus was a great scholar and teacher. The opposite, I would have thought.’

  ‘That’s not the only way in which it differs from the Biblical accounts. Thomas calls Jesus “the Son of Man” rather than the “Son of God”. That’s an important distinction, one that challenges the belief that Jesus was truly divine. Another thing. Thomas refers to Jesus as chrestos, spelled with an e, rather than christos, with an i. The two words are pronounced the same but mean different things. Christos with an i means the “anointed one” — the Messiah sent by God to proclaim the Second Coming. Chrestos with an e simply means “good”.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘One of my uncles is a priest. For a time I was destined for the Church.’

  ‘Well, I’m no book scholar, but it seems to me that you’re splitting hairs.’

  ‘That’s what theologians do. They’ve been doing it for a thousand years and the result is the faith as practised today, down to the last liturgical detail. Anything that doesn’t fit the official version has no place in the canon. The schism between Rome and Constantinople is a good example. Do you know what caused it?’

  Vallon thought. ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘The main doctrinal issue concerns a single word, filioque, which the Roman Church added to the Nicene Creed. It means “and the son” and appears in the affirmation “And I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, giver of life, who proceedeth from the Father and the Son.” What it does is emphasise that Jesus, the Son, is of equal divinity with God, the Father. The Eastern Church won’t accept the addition, concentrating on the supremacy of God the Father. For five hundred years they’ve been arguing about that word.’

  ‘So the Church only hears what it wants to hear.’

  ‘Precisely. It would take an enormous weight of evidence for the authorities to alter the accepted gospel story by so much as a jot. One book discovered by adventurers in Anatolia wouldn’t be enough.’

  ‘Not for Rome perhaps. The Greek Church might be more receptive.’

  Hero shook his head. ‘Whatever their other differences, both Churches would treat any book that emphasised Christ’s human nature as a loathsome heresy.’

  ‘So if we still had the gospel and tried to sell it, we might be burned as heretics.’

  ‘I don’t think they’d go that far. They’d probably burn the gospel, though.’

  Vallon plodded on in silence for a while. ‘Hero, if that was meant to console me, it hasn’t worked.’

  ‘I thought you’d want to know.’

  ‘You only read a few passages. Cosmas had the opportunity to study the entire book. He was a learned man. He must have noticed the same problems as you, yet it didn’t quench his desire to get his hands on it.’

  ‘He sought the truth above all things. Perhaps he found in Thomas some revelation that would shake Christendom to its foundations.’

  ‘Such as the secrets that Thomas said would strike fire from the rocks.’

  ‘Possibly. Or it might have been something else, some revelation concerning Jesus’s death and resurrection.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I’m not sure I dare speak it aloud. It’s blasphemous.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the fate of my soul. Come on, spit it out.’

  ‘Very well.’ Hero composed his thoughts. ‘Several sources say that Thomas evangelised in India and made many converts on the coast. Cosmas met some of the communities and he visited Thomas’s shrine near a city called Madras. These Christians call themselves “the Christians of St Thomas”, but Cosmas told me that they belong to the Nestorian sect.’

  ‘I know little about them except that the Latin Church denounces them as heretics.’

  ‘Of the most damnable kind. Nestorius lived four centuries later than Thomas, and like him had doubts about Jesus’s divinity. Even though he was the Patriarc
h of Constantinople, he preached that Christ had two distinct natures, one divine, one human, and that mankind would find redemption not in Christ’s divinity, but in Jesus’s human life of temptation and suffering. The Orthodox Church found Nestorius’s humanisation of Jesus scandalous and at a council called by the pope they stripped him of his office. His teachings spread, though, east into Persia and on into India. I think the Christian communities there embraced them so readily because they were very similar to the doctrine taught in the Gospel of Thomas.’

  Vallon turned it over in his mind. ‘But that wouldn’t shake Christendom. Where’s the revelation?’

  ‘I really don’t think I should speculate any further.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’

  ‘What could it have been that made Thomas doubt Jesus’s divinity?’

  ‘Don’t ask me. I know my creed and paternoster and that’s the limit of my learning.’

  ‘There’s a clue in the Bible, in the Gospel of St John, where he describes how the resurrected Christ showed himself to all the disciples except Thomas. Remember?’

  ‘Of course! Doubting Thomas. He refused to believe that Christ had risen from the dead until he saw Him in the flesh and felt his wounds with his hands.’ Vallon gave Hero a sharp look. ‘He doubted, and then Jesus banished his doubts. We’re no further forward.’

  Hero didn’t answer.

  Vallon glanced at the sky as though he suspected a heavenly eavesdropper. He leaned slightly towards Hero and dropped his voice. ‘Are you saying that Thomas didn’t see the risen Christ?’

  ‘I’m saying that if he witnessed the resurrection, he could have had no reason to doubt Jesus’s divinity.’

  Vallon dropped his voice further still. ‘You mean Thomas says that Jesus didn’t rise from the dead? That he was mortal like any man?’

  ‘It’s speculation, nothing more.’

  Vallon leaned back and crossed himself. ‘Dark waters. Well, we’ll never have a chance to go deeper. By now the gospel will be ashes.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. I think the Seljuks will hide it away in a library. A thousand years have passed since it was written. Who knows? A thousand years from now, it might surface again.’