Temple of the Grail(143)

‘Tell me one thing, Anselmo. Why the notes? Was it to satisfy your pride, or to toy with us?’

‘I suppose it was both, really, but mostly because I knew that if I aroused your curiosity you would find a way into the catacombs for me. You see how easily I have used you?’

‘So you made those mistakes in Greek so I would suspect Macabus?’

‘He is nothing but a worm . . . an insect!’

There was another rumble and the tunnels shook ominously.

‘And yet, here we are,’ my master said.

‘Yes, and your taper is running out, preceptor, here, you had best light my torch . . .’ He moved forward, a strange look on his face.

Suddenly my master was throwing the lamp to me, and I caught it just as it was about to hit the ground.

‘Defender of the holy sepulchre! Now all is clear!’ my master cried with excitement, ‘I will not let you kill us all with your poisonous torch! The torches!’ He hit his head with the palm of his hand quite hard and I almost felt the sting. ‘I am a camel! An animal! The torches are coated with a poison, aren’t they? Something akin to serpent de pharaon, or perhaps even more deadly. A salt powder that, when mixed with mutton and ignited, gives off a deadly fume! So deadly that, in an enclosed space, one dies almost immediately. That is why Jerome died holding something and why we found a spent lamp discarded on the floor. He must have run out of taper – just as you did – almost as soon as he entered the false chamber. Now here’s the interesting part, before it could go out, he managed to light the torch, which hung on the bracket fixed to the wall. This explains why he did not have the time to search for a way out of the false room, he died instantly . . . The silent ones must have removed the torch from his hands so that none may know its secrets. Setubar knew, however, this was his one knowledge about the catacombs, and the one thing that he imparted to you. It also explains why Samuel died the moment he entered the first antechamber. He, too, must have lit a torch with the candle he took from beneath the statue of the Virgin! Ezekiel did not die in such a way, because his sight was failing him and he knew the way without it. You were right, Christian, when you said each brother knew one thing about the tunnels. Air, Water, Earth, Fire. Air is knowledge and the library, Water is the organ, Earth is the orientation in the tunnels and Fire is the poisonous torches. Not only did the cook provide the silent ones with food, but also with poison from Macabus’ repository to which he held the keys on most nights, the poison they used to coat the torches . . .’ my master ended proudly.

The youth smiled broadly and clapped his hands. ‘Bravo, bravo!’ He then moved forward aggressively, and I, with my own presence of mind, grasped the apple that I had kept all this time in my repository, and threw it as accurately as I could, hitting Anselmo on the head and moving him backwards. At that very moment it seemed as though the entire world above us gave way. The ceiling in the antechamber began to collapse, and a large section of it, followed by much rubble, came down squarely on Anselmo.

A rock hit my master’s brow and left a deep graze. ‘Through the door!’ he shouted, shoving me through the aperture marked ‘Aqua’ and to the ledge before the roaring body of water now filled with debris.

‘So we will either drown or be buried alive,’ he said calmly. ‘So many alternatives !

‘I can swim, master.’

‘You can what?’ He turned to me astounded.

‘My mother taught me to swim, I can get you across.’

‘Why did you not tell me from the first?’

‘I was about to when we heard the terrible sound . . . and then it seemed a little futile, especially since you had so soon worked out the formula . . .’ I trailed off lamely, not wishing to say that I had been afraid to mention my ability lest he made me do it.

‘Never mind, how should we cross?’

‘I shall gauge its depth,’ I shouted, handing him the lamp.

‘By all means, take your time!’

I sat on the ledge, my legs dangling into the freezing water, and immediately they were numb. The channel was the width of three men end to end and when my master shone the torch into it, it looked black. Saying a quick prayer, I plunged in and found that it was only waist-deep but with a very strong current that pulled one along furiously. I called out to my master, who followed me, holding the roll of parchments that had been hidden in his mantle above his head to keep them dry. Soon we were on the other side at the door to ‘Laodicea’, leaving pools of water where we stood, and shaking violently from the cold.

Moments later, we emerged through the door and I prayed silently: ‘Te ergo quaesimus, tuis famulis subveni: quos pretioso sanguine redemisti. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.’