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Three well-fed mules and a pair of donkeys grazed placidly on the lush grass growing up between the
stones. From nearby came the blessed sound of trickling water, reminding both Templars how long they
had been walking, after the sandstorm. At their glance in that direction, Iskander pointed out a rivulet
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welling from a cleft in the wall of the ravine, which pooled in a small, rocky basin and then was channeled
downhill along a shallow course of stones, eventually running dry amid the rocks.
They paused to drink from the basin. The water, Torquil discovered, was blessedly pure and cold.
Following the example of Iskander, he and Arnault washed faces and hands, only reluctantly abandoning
the water for the shade of one of the crumbling walls, where Berhanu had set out bread, cheese, and
dates, along with more of the fresh, cold water.
The Templars accepted the food with thanks, surveying the ruins as they started to eat. On the wall
above Iskander's head, a lingering patch of fresco work displayed a still-bright symbol of a Chi-Rho, the
Greek letters superimposed one on the other in an emblem formed by the ?rst two letters of the name of
Christ.
"In the days of the Roman emperors, this was home to a band of early Christians," Iskander explained,
noting the direction of their gaze. "Its builders came here to escape persecution-as do you."
Torquil glanced at Arnault, wondering how much the other man could actually know of their affairs.
"Who are you?" he blurted.
"Brother Arnault will have told you my name," Iskander replied with a shrug, around a mouthful of date.
"Beyond that, I am what you see."
"What I see," Torquil replied, frowning, "is what you are not. You are not an Arab. Neither are you of
Latin blood. You speak the lingua franca ?uently, but not as one who learned it from birth. So where do
you come from? And what language is your mother tongue?"
"So many questions," Iskander said, with a glimmering of humor. "I was born in Gondar, in the northern
province of the kingdom of Ethiopia. The native speech of my homeland is Ge'ez, and many neighboring
lands speak Arabic, but those who serve the Church must learn both Greek and Latin. And of course, I
have learned your Frankish speech."
Ethiopia.
Torquil registered a blink of surprise, aware of how little he knew of that far-off African kingdom, so
distant from his native Scotland that its very name carried the resonance of legend. He and Arnault had
spoken of it more than once, during the long months of their journey here, intrigued by the possibility that
the Iskander of Chartres Cathedral might be the same Iskander mentioned by Jauffre in connection with
the Ethiopian embassage of 1306. But this in no way explained why either Iskander should be interested
in Templar affairs.
"This raises more questions," Arnault said tentatively, obviously thinking along lines similar to Torquil. "At
Chartres, you called yourself friend and referred to me as brother. May I ask why?"
"Because that is what you are. Like you, I am a Knight of the Temple of Solomon. A Templar."
As Arnault and Torquil exchanged startled glances, Iskander drew apart the neck of his burnoose to
reveal an egg-sized medallion of dark wood strung on a slender leather thong. Into its face was carved a
Templar cross, and on its other side, as he turned it for them, a ?nely carved depiction of the Templar
seal, with two knights riding on one horse.
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Opening his hands, Iskander then showed them small cruciform tattoos at the base of each palm. His feet
bore similar markings atop the instep, betokening the wounds of cruci?xion. Mouth agape, Torquil
suddenly found himself quite certain that there would be a ?fth tattoo on Iskander's side, beneath the
?owing robes. The look on Arnault's face, when Torquil glanced at him, suggested that he probably had
come to the same conclusion, and that he, too, was both taken aback and curiously intrigued by what all
of this suggested.
"I see that I must explain," Iskander said, smiling at their mute astonishment. "The tale begins more than a
century ago. At that time, Ethiopia was ruled by a king called Harbay, who had a younger half brother
called Lalibela, though they were by different mothers. Lalibela's mother was a prophetess; when he was
only an infant, she saw a great swarm of bees hovering around his cradle without injuring him. From this
sign, she knew that the child was born for greatness, and gave him the name, which means The bees
recognize his sovereignty.
"When Harbay heard this prophecy, he began to fear for his throne and made several attempts to kill his
younger brother. At last, prompted by God in a dream, Lalibela ?ed Ethiopia and made his way to
Jerusalem, where he presented himself to the Knights of the Order of the Temple. Christianity came early
to my land, of course," he offered as an aside, "though we follow the Patriarch in Alexandria. Some of
our customs differ somewhat from those of the West." He brie?y displayed his palms again.
"In any case, the superiors of the Order examined Lalibela and, ?nding him worthy, agreed to receive his
vows. In due course, his spiritual gifts commended him to the MaR
tre of the time, who became the
prince's mentor and initiated him in the mystical disciplines necessary for one called to service among the
inner guardians of the Light-yes, those you refer to as le Cercle."
Torquil glanced quickly at Arnault, who had stiffened at this revelation.
"This is information of the most privileged kind," Arnault said softly.
"And it is safe with me," Iskander assured them. "Remember that I, too, am a sharer of the wisdom of
Solomon. We have sworn a common vow."
In the air before them he sketched a sign, which manifested brie?y as a shimmering glyph of light. Torquil
caught his breath, for it was the sigil of an adept of the highest degree. Arnault raised an eyebrow but
merely nodded silently, still tight-lipped as Iskander resumed his tale.
"Lalibela remained in Jerusalem for twenty-?ve years, under the tutelage of his Templar masters. At the
end of that time, upon the death of King Harbay, he returned to Ethiopia to assume the throne. When he
left, he took with him not only the wisdom he had gained from his masters, but also several
knight-brothers who had become his disciples. Thus was instituted the Ethiopian branch of the Templar
Order, whose special charge it was to safeguard the mystical heirlooms of the Ethiopian royal line. One
was the Mirror of Makeda; the other was the Ark of the Covenant."
Both men's jaws had dropped at this declaration. Arnault was the ?rst to ?nd his tongue, and only with
dif?culty.
"But-the Ark has been lost for. several thousand years. You're saying it ended up in Ethiopia?"
"Yes. Makeda's great-grandson had it brought there," Iskander said.
"And who is Makeda?" Torquil dared to ask.
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Iskander seemed almost amused by the question. "The scriptures do not name her, but amongst your
people she is known by her title: the Queen of Sheba."
"Of course," Arnault murmured, faintly nodding.
"These revelations should come as no surprise," Iskander said. "The history of the kingdom of Ethiopia
and the history of the Templars are both rooted in the same event: the raising of the First Temple by King
Solomon the Great."
Arnault and Torquil watched him pour tiny cups of steaming, fragrant coffee that Berhanu brought, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]