Temple of the Grail(38)

‘The skins of young lambs . . .’ Leonard smiled, displaying prominent incisors, ‘is the preferred choice for works of great importance because it lasts so well. One may also re-use it many times because of its thickness. We also use vellum when we are graced to have some on hand, and rarely papyrus, for as you know, preceptor, it is brought from the lands of the infidel and is, of course, very rare.’

‘But where are your treasures, Brother Macabus, I do not see any bookcases?’ my master asked, taking another large bite of his apple, looking perplexed, though many times I had occasion to observe that he already knew the answers to his questions.

The man showed no hesitation in answering. ‘They are safely stored in the library, away from heat and humidity that

can be so damaging to old manuscripts.’

‘It must be a most comprehensive library, brother librarian.’

‘Yes, it is comprehensive,’ Macabus said, ‘though, by most standards, very small. Still it is our life work. Our most notable pieces are on the medicinal arts, and music.’

‘Ahh, then . . . I would very much like to see them.’

‘And your order is so often maligned for its illiteracy!’ he raised his chin in a suggestion of superiority. ‘It heartens me to think that erudition can complement a soldier’s life and yet I hear that you studied in Paris before joining the order, and Salerno also?’

‘Yes.’

‘How fortunate.’

‘I do not believe in fortune, brother, only in tenacity. May I have your permission to visit the library?’

‘Impossible! For that you shall require the abbot’s permission, preceptor,’ the librarian answered with the slightest hint of bitterness, ‘there are not many who are given that privilege.’

‘Oh, I see . . . but where is the library situated, I have seen no building . . .?’

The monk looked a little embarrassed and Leonard interrupted, by means of changing the subject. ‘Have you been to the library at Bobbio, preceptor? Their catalogue is said to enumerate well over six hundred works. There is also St Gall. Have you heard that in Rhenish monasteries they are now using woodcuts?’ Straightening his back proudly he said, ‘I have seen one or two works of supreme excellence, but here we prefer the traditional use of stylus, reed, or quill, with inks and pigments unsurpassed in luminescence.’

My master was thoughtful for a moment, ‘Yes . . . so you translate many Greek texts?’

‘How did you know?’ Macabus asked, a little amazed.

‘When you said that your most notable works were on the medicinal arts, I assumed you meant the works of Hippocrates, and Galen.’

‘You are correct,’ the man said smugly. ‘We have had, and do have, I believe, the finest translators in Europe.’

‘Really?’ my master nodded, very pleased.

‘Oh, yes, indeed.’

‘And who might be your most notable?’

‘That would be Anselmo,’ Leonard answered and was immediately sorry, for a dark cloud moved over his superior’s brow.

‘Yes,’ Macabus said through tightened lips, ‘a young man who shows great promise. He has not been with us long, but his father was widely travelled and the child knows many languages. A boy of many talents.’

‘Are there any others who speak Greek apart from this boy and yourself?’

‘Oh, yes, a library must have several, but none know it so well as the two of us,’ Macabus answered.

‘May I see the translator’s desk?’

The man hesitated a moment, then, covering his initial reluctance with a smile, showed us to an immaculately kept table near a good source of light.

‘He is presently working on various projects.’

‘Does brother Anselmo presume to better Gerard of Cremona’s translation of Aristotle?’ my master asked, picking up a manuscript from the table, the half-eaten apple still in his hand. ‘He must be exceptional!’

I saw the librarian gasp, observing the proximity of the moist fruit to the manuscript. ‘He is, certainly, but his finest work to date was the entire works of Galen.’

‘The entire works? Mashallah!’ he exclaimed, I suspect intellectually overcome.

I saw Leonard and his superior exchange a meaningful glance.

‘Is that Arabic?’ Macabus asked looking down his nose at Andre.

‘Why yes, do you know it?’

‘A little. You speak it like a native.’

‘Well, that is because I am a native.’

A disbelieving quiet descended over us.

My master smiled, pleased to have occasioned embarrassment. ‘On another matter, how are the writing implements cleaned, brother librarian?’