‘Then the king gave the stone to his goldsmiths, who set it into a thick gold coin, its centre moulded into lips to hold the stone secure and safe. The magus told the goldsmiths that they must write an inscription on the gold coin. The style of writing and the language were those commonly employed in the land, but the words made no sense to the goldsmiths because they were in code, and the code was known only to the magus.
‘The king treasured his stone above all others for, as the magus had predicted, it had many useful powers. It bestowed success and good fortune. It could stop bleeding, both from an external wound and that which mysteriously arises in a man’s secret insides. And, like the magic of a mother’s loving kiss on a sick child’s forehead, it could take away fever. It could detect when poison had been dropped into a man’s goblet of wine. And, most valuable of all, it warned of secret enemies.’
‘Did the king have secret enemies?’ Josse interrupted.
The stranger glanced at him. ‘He did. As does every king, including your Malik Richard. Now, straight away’ — he was clearly keen to continue his narrative — ‘the king realised that all that he had been told was true, for it seemed that everything he attempted was a success. The land of Persia was strong and proud and, when the king felt that the time was right to challenge the might of the Babylonian Empire, his magus consulted the stars and dwelled privately on the omens, and then agreed with him. So King Cyrus — for that was his name, and he was ever known as Cyrus the Great — marched on Babylon, took it and founded an empire of his own, which was called the Acaemenid and was the greatest that the ancient world had ever seen.
‘Now when King Cyrus’s army took Babylon, they found dwelling there the sad remnants of an alien people who called themselves Judeans. The Babylonian king, Nebuchadrezzar, had attacked their city, Jerusalem, and brought the people to their knees. But the Judean king had unwisely listened to those who gave him bad advice, and allowed himself to be persuaded into a rebellion. Nebuchadrezzar sent his army back again and, this time, showed no mercy. Jerusalem was taken and destroyed utterly, and its people were led away into exile. Their king, whose name was Zedekiah, was captured with them, and both his eyes were put out.’
Josse gave an involuntary shudder of horror. The dark man, who seemed to sense it, shot him a swift look. ‘I told you that Nebuchadrezzar showed no mercy,’ he murmured. ‘So a king deals with a rebellion. It is the way of the world, is it not?’
Josse did not answer.
‘So it was,’ the stranger resumed, ‘that King Cyrus discovered the last descendants of the Judeans living in wretchedness in Babylon, far away from their homes. He took pity on them and allowed them to return to their own land, and he gave back to them many precious items of gold and silver which Nebuchadrezzar’s men had stolen from the temple at Jerusalem. It was said that one such item was King Solomon’s ring, set with a sapphire seal stone, but this ring was lost and nobody could say where it was. Now King Cyrus was troubled by this, and he consulted his magus and asked what he might do to make amends to the exiles returning home. “For it is my wish,” he said, “to demonstrate to these people that Cyrus is not Nebuchadrezzar, and that he knows when to show mercy.”’
‘What did the magus suggest?’
‘The magus said to King Cyrus, “You have in your possession, sire, a jewel that is the match of the sapphire in King Solomon’s ring, if not its superior.” And the King, although his heart misgave him, knew that the magus spoke of the great sapphire set in gold. But he trusted the magus and so, after much thought, accepted his advice. He sent for the leader of the Judeans and said, “I give you a treasure, a sapphire eye set in a coin of gold.” In a sudden burst of inspiration, he held up the stone and declared, “Behold the Eye of Jerusalem, which I give to the people of that city in recompense for the eyes of King Zedekiah, that Nebuchadrezzar put out.” And the Judeans took it home with them, and put it in a place of safety in the temple that they rebuilt on the ruins of the one destroyed by the Babylonians.’
‘It was a gift of rare generosity,’ Josse said.
‘It was. But the King was advised by his magus that he should not let the Eye entirely out of his sight, for it was ever possible that the people of Judah might one day use it against its former owner.’
‘That would have been hard, when it was King Cyrus who had given it to them!’
‘Indeed. But when necessity drives, a nation will take what steps it must to survive. The magus, who looked into the hearts of men and could understand them with a rare clarity, told King Cyrus what to do. “The Eye must be watched,” he said, “in order that its whereabouts are ever known, as are the uses to which its powers are being put.” He proposed to the King that two men be appointed Guardians of the Stone, and he suggested for chief Guardian a man he knew of and trusted. This man was an astronomer trained by the greatest of the Babylonian star-gazers, one Enil of Sidon; he had a young nephew, who was also his apprentice, who could fill the post of the second Guardian.’
‘And the King agreed to this?’
‘With alacrity. The Guardians were appointed and informed that, under Persian law, their post was to be in perpetuity, passed from father to son or, failing that, uncle to nephew or grandfather to grandson.’
‘A woman was never to be a Guardian?’
The dark man looked almost affronted. ‘Certainly not. The great unseen forces of the supernatural are not for women.’
How little you know, Josse thought. But he said nothing.
‘And so it came about,’ the steady voice went on, ‘that the Eye of Jerusalem was hidden away deep within the heart of the Temple of Solomon, safe, unused, almost forgotten, and the Guardians had little guarding to do. But they kept the tradition alive, each generation impressing on the next that theirs was a royal appointment and that it was to last forever.
‘In time the Persian Empire fell, just as the Babylonians had fallen to King Cyrus. This time, it was a young general from Macedonia who led the invincible army, and this Alexander, like Cyrus before him, was also called the Great. He crossed the Hellespont and challenged Cyrus’s descendant, King Darius, defeating him and going on to conquer Phoenicia, Palestine, Egypt, Babylon, Susa and Persepolis before marching on into India. Nobody can tell how far Alexander’s great wings would have stretched, for he died and his empire was divided up between his generals.
‘The land of Palestine fell to the general known as Seleucus, whose successor persecuted the Judeans. Once again, their temple was destroyed. But the Guardians, perceiving the threat in time to take action, removed the Eye by night and took it away to Damascus. And there it stayed, while in the outside world the power of the Greeks diminished and the Romans rose up to take their place, destroying the temple of Jerusalem yet again when the people of Judah rose up in revolt. The Guardians, now many generations removed from their originals, had kept the precious jewel in Damascus. Now no longer sure who they should be protecting from possible misuse of the Eye, they decided that the best thing they could do was to make sure that it went on being ignored.’
‘Then how did Mehmed come to have it?’ Josse demanded.
The dark man gave a faint sigh. ‘Wait, and you shall hear. Soon after the death of their prophet, Jesus Christ, a Christian community had begun to flourish in Damascus. But then Mohammed and his followers, the great and holy founders of the Muslim era, moved from Mecca to Medina in the land known as Arabia, and the city of Damascus was thrust into prominence. It so happened that a young and ambitious Guardian had recently inherited the chief’s post from his father, possibly too soon for the good of either the Eye or himself. He was driven to seek favour with the rapidly burgeoning power of the Muslims, and he offered the Eye to the rich and charismatic head of the Mehmeds. The Mehmeds were an influential family poised for power; the Guardian reasoned that a position in their household would be preferable to remaining in the background and, eventually, becoming lost in one of history’s forgotten backwaters.’