They touched glasses and Sir Edmund said modestly, “Trying to save my own skin, actually, and I was glad for the company—and your assistance.”
Purcell was sure that Gann didn’t want to talk about his three months in an Ethiopian prison, so Purcell picked another unhappy subject. “I assume you heard about Prince Joshua.”
“I did.”
Gann didn’t seem to want to talk about that either, so they perused the menu. Purcell remembered that he was buying, and the prices, in lire, looked like telephone numbers. But he supposed he owed this to Colonel Gann for saving their lives, and he owed it to Henry for stealing his girlfriend.
The waiter came and they ordered. Henry found the same amarone at double the price of the Forum.
Mercado said to Vivian and Purcell, “I’ve told Sir Edmund that we have our visas, and I took the liberty of telling him that this black monastery may be of interest to us when we return.”
Gann reminded Purcell, “Last time we discussed this—in that ravine—I believe you said you were never going back.”
“I’ve changed my mind.” He added, “Actually, we’ve all lost our minds.”
Colonel Gann flashed his toothy smile. He thought a moment, then replied, “I grew up with King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, Mr. Purcell. And when I was a boy, my greatest dream was to join in a quest to find the Holy Grail.”
“So you’re crazy, too.”
Everyone laughed, and Gann continued, “Now, of course, I, like most rational men, do not believe any of this… but it is a wonderful story—it is the story of our unending search for something good and beautiful… which is why it appeals to us… to our hearts and our souls. And I loved those stories of Arthur and his knights, and they affected me deeply. And then I grew up.”
Everyone stayed silent, so Gann continued, “But those stories have stayed with me… and they are still part of me.”
Again no one spoke, then Mercado confessed, “I believe there was a King Arthur, and a Camelot. I also believe there was a round table of virtuous knights, and I believe they sought the Holy Grail.” He hesitated, then continued, “I also believe that Perceval and Gauvain found the Grail Castle in Glastonbury and sailed off into a fog with the Grail and returned it to Jerusalem.”
Again, no one spoke, then Gann said, “I don’t seem to remember the Jerusalem bit.”
Mercado said, “That’s my theory.”
“Yes… well, I suppose that’s possible.”
Mercado took the opportunity to explain to Gann, and also to Vivian, how the Holy Grail was then taken from Jerusalem to Egypt, then to Ethiopia, a half step ahead of the armies of Islam.
Both Gann and Vivian seemed to agree that Henry’s scholarship was impressive and logical.
Purcell said to Gann, “More importantly, we have been told by this Father Armano, who Getachu was asking us about, that the Grail—or something called the Holy Grail—is sitting in this black monastery.”
“I see.”
“So we’re going back to Ethiopia to see who’s crazier—us or Father Armano.”
Gann said, “There is a thin line, Mr. Purcell, between bravery and insanity.”
“No argument there.”
“Some people are content to accept things on faith. Others are driven to extraordinary efforts to find and see the thing they want to believe in. Vide et crede. See and believe. And that is where bravery and insanity become one.”
“And that’s when you buy a ticket to Ethiopia.”
Gann smiled and suggested to his dining companions, “And while you are there looking about for the Holy Grail, you might as well try to get a look at the Ark of the Covenant.”
“Is that there too?”
“Apparently, but not in the black monastery. It’s in the ancient ruins of Axum.”
Purcell asked Mercado, “Have you heard of that?”
“I have.”
It seemed to Purcell that Ethiopia had at least two amazing biblical relics, making him start to wonder about the first one. He asked Gann, “Has Noah’s Ark also shown up there?”
Again Gann smiled, then said, “Not that I’m aware of. But I have seen the resting place of the Ark of the Covenant.”
Vivian encouraged him to tell them about it, and Purcell wished she hadn’t.
Gann explained, “The Ark of the Covenant is hidden in a small Coptic chapel in Axum, and it is guarded by one monk, a man named Abba who is called the Atang—the Keeper of the Ark.” He further explained, “This is the most solemn position in the Ethiopian Orthodox Church—the Coptic Church. Abba can never leave the grounds of the chapel and he will hold this position of Atang until he dies.”
Vivian asked, “And you’ve seen this man?”
“And I’ve spoken to him.” He added, “He is the only living person who has ever actually seen the Ark, but he has never opened this chest to see the stone tablets on which God gave Moses the Ten Commandments.” Gann explained, “Abba told me that whoever opens the Ark will be struck dead.”
Purcell inquired, “Did the Ark of the Covenant arrive in Ethiopia along with the Holy Grail?”
Gann smiled again and replied, “No, the time and the circumstances were quite different.” He explained, “As you know, the Queen of Sheba, who ruled in Axum three thousand years ago, went to Jerusalem and was impregnated by King Solomon. She returned to Axum and bore a child whom she named Menelik, and this was the beginning of the Solomonic dynasty that has ruled Ethiopia until… well, a few months ago.” He continued, “When Menelik was a young man, he traveled to Jerusalem to meet his father. Menelik stayed for three years, and when he left, Solomon ordered that the Ark of the Covenant accompany his son to protect him. Menelik brought the Ark to a monastery called Tana Kirkos on the eastern shore of Lake Tana, which feeds its waters into the Blue Nile. The monastery is still there, guarded by monks, and I have actually been a guest at this monastery.”
Purcell inquired, “Did the monks insist that you stay forever?”
“Sorry?”
“Please go on.”
Gann went on, “After Menelik died, the new emperor, Ezana, sent for the Ark, and it was brought to Axum, where it remains to this day.”
Purcell asked, “Why hasn’t the Marxist government grabbed it?”
“Interesting question.” Gann explained, “They’ve appropriated some church property, but there is a backlash growing among the Coptic faithful, so the government has backed off a bit.” He added, “The stupid Marxists have actually stirred a religious revival amongst the peasants.”
Purcell nodded. That wasn’t what happened in Russia when the Communists crushed the churches, but it was interesting that it was happening in Ethiopia. More importantly, if the Ark of the Covenant was safe for the time being, then maybe the black monastery and the Holy Grail were also safe for now—at least until the team from L’Osservatore Romano arrived.
Mercado had come to a similar conclusion and said, “The black monastery is also on borrowed time.”
Gann said, “The new government is trying to consolidate its power, and it doesn’t wish to anger the masses whom it purports to represent. But as you say, it’s only a matter of time before they resume their confiscation of church property. For now, they are satisfied with executing the royal family and the rasses, and appropriating their palaces and wealth.”
Purcell asked Gann, “Are you still working for the Royalists?”
Gann hesitated, then replied, “I am in contact with counterrevolutionary elements here in Rome, in London, and in Cairo and Ethiopia.”
“How’s that counterrevolution looking?”
Gann replied, “Not very good at the moment. But we are hopeful.”
Their antipasto arrived and Mercado picked at his food, then said, “I am convinced that the Holy Grail could eventually wind up in the hands of the Marxist government. And if that happens, the Grail may not be sold to the highest bidder—it may be destroyed.”
Purcell looked at Mercad
o. It was inevitable, he thought, that Henry, or one of them, would find a justification for stealing the Grail from the monastery—for its own protection, of course. And, in truth, Henry had a point.
Mercado went on, “After three thousand years of relative stability under the Solomonic dynasty, the whole country is in chaos.” He pressed his point. “And if the black monastery is looted by revolutionary troops—soldiers of Getachu, for instance—the Grail is in jeopardy. Even if it is sold to the highest bidder, that bidder could very well be someone like the Saudi royal family, who have billions to spend on whatever they fancy.” He concluded, “I don’t want the Holy Grail to wind up in Mecca.”
Purcell pointed out, “You’ve done a quantum leap, Henry.”
“Perhaps, but you see what I’m getting at.”
“You’re making a case for why we should relieve the Coptic monks of their property.”
“I am trying to protect the Grail.”
Purcell inquired, “And where do you think it would be safe?”
“The Vatican, of course.”
“I thought you might say that.”
Everyone got a small laugh from that.
Vivian said, “I agree with Henry.”
Gann, too, said, “I agree that you—we—need to get this relic out of Ethiopia.”
Purcell, too, agreed, but he advised, “Not permanently. Just until the times in Ethiopia grow less evil.”
Mercado pointed out, “The Grail has been taken on long journeys over the last two thousand years to safeguard it from evil, and I believe it has fallen to us to do that again.”
Purcell said, “So we are all agreed that if we find the black monastery and the Holy Grail, we are morally justified in stealing the Grail for its own protection.”
Everyone nodded.
Colonel Gann looked at Mercado, Purcell, and Vivian and said, “I should tell you that I am not a believer in this relic as the true cup that Christ used at the Last Supper, and neither do I believe that the Ark of the Covenant and the Ten Commandments are in a hidden chapel in Axum. But these artifacts are central to the Coptic Church in Ethiopia, as well as in Egypt.” He continued, “Egypt may never be Christian again, but Ethiopia will be. And it is important that all the religious objects that are in jeopardy be safeguarded for the time when the Marxists are overthrown and the emperor is restored to the throne.”
Purcell thought that if by some miracle they actually got hold of the Holy Grail and got it to the Vatican—for safekeeping—it wouldn’t get out of there until the second coming of Christ. But that wasn’t his problem.
Gann asked, “Can you tell me a bit more about this Father Armano?”
Mercado looked at Purcell and Vivian, who both nodded. Mercado said to Gann, “I’m sure you know of the Italian spa that Getachu was talking about.”
“I do indeed.” He told them, “You shouldn’t have spent the night there.” Gann explained, “The Gallas fancy the place. I don’t think they bathe there—or bathe at all—but there is fresh water for their horses and for themselves.” He advised, “It is a place to avoid.”
Purcell commented, “We had an old guidebook.”
Mercado continued, “Well, we put up for the night—had a quick wash—and when we returned to our Jeep, we came upon Father Armano, who was wounded and dying.”
“And I’m sure he said more to you before he died than you told Getachu.”
“Correct.” Mercado suggested that Vivian relate the story, which she did.
Gann listened attentively, nodding now and then, and when Vivian had finished, he said, “Remarkable. And do you believe this man’s story about the Lance of Longinus hanging in thin air, dripping blood? Or that this blood healed the priest?”
Vivian said she did, as did Mercado.
She also said, “We think it was more than chance that we and Father Armano arrived at the same place at the same time. And now you tell us that the Gallas are usually there, but they weren’t that night.” She concluded, “We think it was a miracle.”
Colonel Gann nodded politely.
Vivian added, “And it was an eerie coincidence, I think, that Father Armano and Henry were at the same battle of Mount Aradam in 1935.”
“Yes… striking coincidence.” He looked at Purcell.
Purcell said, “I believe the substance of Father Armano’s story, but I’m a bit skeptical about the Lance of Longinus hanging in thin air, or about the Holy Grail healing Father Armano.”
Gann replied, “Yes… that seems a bit unnatural, doesn’t it? But we agree that this relic is probably in the black monastery.”
Everyone agreed.
Gann asked, “Do you have any specific operational plans to find this monastery?”
Mercado replied, “We hoped you could help us with that.”
“I believe I can.” He informed them, “I have a general idea where it is.”
“So do we,” said Purcell, “based on what Father Armano said about his army patrol from Lake Tana to the black monastery, then being taken by foot to the Royalist fortress, then his escape forty years later and his walk that night to the Italian spa.” He suggested, “Maybe we could triangulate all of that if we had a good map.”
Gann nodded again. “It’s a starting point.” He advised, “You ought to begin with aerial reconnaissance if you can.”
Purcell informed him, “We might have access to a light plane in Addis.”
“Good. That will save you time and effort, and help keep you out of the hands of the Gallas—or Getachu.”
Mercado told Gann, “There are possibly some good Italian Army maps in the Ethiopian College in Vatican City.”
“Excellent. I’d like to take a look at them.”
“I’m working on that.”
Gann also informed them, “There is a Falasha village in the vicinity, as I mentioned to Mr. Purcell at Getachu’s parade ground. These Jews may be a key to locating the black monastery.” He explained, “There seems to be some… ancient relationship there.”
Vivian asked, “What is that relationship?”
Gann further explained, “The royal family, of course, has Jewish blood from Solomon, and they are proud of that. Proud, too, that they, through the Coptic Church, are the keepers of the Ark of the Covenant, which presumably they are keeping safe for the Jews. The Jews there, the Falashas, see Jesus as a great Jewish prophet and they revere him, and presumably they also believe in the Holy Grail—the kiddush cup of Jesus’s last Passover meal.” He asked his companions, “Do you see the connection?”
Everyone nodded.
Gann continued, “Also, it would appear that the only connection the black monastery has with the outside world is through this Falasha village. Shoan.”
Purcell inquired, “What sort of connection?”
Gann replied, “A spiritual connection. But also a practical connection. Food, medical supplies—”
“They have the Holy Grail,” Purcell reminded him. “Cures what ails you.”
“Yes… well… good point.” He continued, “The monastery, like most monasteries, is self-sufficient, but even a monk needs new underwear now and then. Sandals and candles. And a bit of wine.”
Purcell asked, “How do you know all this?”
“We can discuss that in Ethiopia.”
“All right.” Purcell said, “It would seem, then, that the Falashas know how to find the black monastery.”
Gann replied, “My understanding is that there is a meeting place somewhere between the monastery and the village.”
Purcell nodded. He had this feeling, as he’d had in Ethiopia, that he’d fallen through the rabbit hole. He said to Mercado, “This is a whole chapter in our book, Henry. Jews for Jesus.”
Gann changed the subject. “Have you thought about how you will actually get into this walled monastery if you find it?”
Purcell admitted, “We haven’t thought that far ahead—about pulling off a heist in a monastery filled with club-wielding monks.”
“Right.” But the more Purcell thought about all this, the more he believed that time might never come. More likely, they’d wind up in Getachu’s camp again, or if they were really unlucky, they’d meet up with the Gallas. Henry and Vivian, however, believed they were chosen to find the Holy Grail, and that God would watch over them. As for himself, he half believed half of that.
Purcell asked Gann, “If you can get back into Ethiopia, will you actually come with us to the monastery?”
“Am I invited?”
Vivian cautioned, “This would be more dangerous for you than for us.” She asked, “And how would you get into the country?”
Gann reminded them, “I am officially a fugitive from Ethiopian justice, so I will not be applying for a return visa. I will acquire another identity and fly in from Cairo on a commercial flight.” He informed them, “I have access to everything I need in regard to a passport and a forged visa.”
Vivian said, “Sounds risky.”
“Not too.” He explained, “The security people at Addis airport are totally inept—except the ones who are corrupt.” He informed them, “That was how I flew in last time. I was Charles Lawson then, a Canadian citizen, and within a few days I was Colonel Sir Edmund Gann again, up north with Prince Joshua.”
Vivian pointed out, “They know what you look like now.”
“You, Miss Smith, will not know what I look like when I see you in Ethiopia.”
Purcell inquired, “What is your motivation, Colonel, in risking your life?”
“I believe we had this discussion on a hilltop.” He informed everyone, “I am being well paid by the Ethie expat community, but even if I weren’t, I’d do this because I believe in it.”
“And what is it that you believe in?”
“The restoration of the monarchy and the liberation of the Ethiopian people from Communism, tyranny, and terror.”
“Do you get paid for trying? Or only for success?”
“Both.” He admitted, “The princely payment comes when the emperor or his successor is back on the throne.”
“Do you get a palace?”
“I get the satisfaction of a job well done—and the honor of having changed history.”
The Quest Page 23