As they launched into an animated conversation about their mutual fascination with the past, James came up and, to Lisa's dismay, took D'Alaqua off to another group. She could have talked to him all night. John wouldn't believe her when she told him she'd been chatting with this man who'd turned up in Marco Valoni's report. Even Marco would be surprised. She laughed to herself, thinking what a good idea it had been to accept James's invitation to surprise her sister on her birthday. She'd have to put a dinner party together for the Stuarts when they came to Rome, she thought. She'd mention it to her niece; the two of them would make a list of people to invite. Lisa had several names in mind already.
17
The young servant wept in fear and horror. Marcius's face and chin were spattered with blood. The other servant had run to Josar's house to tell him of the tragedy in the residence of the royal architect.
"Then we heard a terrible cry, a shriek, and when we entered the chamber we saw Marcius with a sharp dagger in one hand, with which he had cut out his own tongue. He has fallen senseless to the ground, and we know not what to do. He had told us that something would take place tonight and ordered that we not be frightened, no matter what we might see. But my God, he has cut out his own tongue! Why? Why?!"
Josar and Thaddeus were not surprised at the servant's story. They tried to calm the boy as they made their way with him to the house of Marcius, and there they found their friend still unconscious, the bedclothes stained crimson with blood, while his servant cowered in a corner, weeping and praying and waving his arms in fear and terror.
"Calm yourself!" Josar ordered the other youth. "The physician will be here at once, and he will help him. But tonight, my friends, you must be strong. You must not be daunted either by fear or compassion, for if you are, the life of Marcius could be in grave danger."
The young servants began to grow calmer. When the physician arrived, he sent everyone out of the chamber and remained there alone with his assistant. They were long in coming out.
"He is resting quietly. For a few days, I want him to remain undisturbed; these drops, mixed in the water you give him to drink, will make him sleep and ease the pain until the wound has healed."
"We wish to ask you a favor," Thaddeus said to the physician. "We, too, wish to cut out our tongues."
The physician, a Christian like them, looked at them in distress.
"Our Lord would not look kindly upon these mutilations."
"We must do this," Josar explained, "for it is only in this way that Maanu will be unable to make us speak. He will torture us to learn where the shroud that was the grave cloth of Jesus has been hidden. We do not know, but we might say something that would endanger those who do. We do not wish to flee the city; we must remain here with our brothers and sisters, because surely all Christians will suffer the wrath of Maanu."
"Please," Thaddeus pleaded, "help us. We are not as brave as Marcius, who cut out his tongue with his own knife."
"What you ask me is contrary to the laws of God. My duty is to help heal; I cannot mutilate any man."
"Then we shall do it ourselves," said Josar.
The resolute tone of Josar's voice convinced the physician.
They went first to the house of Thaddeus, and there the healer mixed the contents of a small vial with water. When Thaddeus had fallen into a deep slumber, the physician asked Josar to leave the chamber and go to his own house. He would follow him there soon.
Josar impatiently awaited the arrival of the physician, who after a short time entered with a gesture of contrition.
"Lie on the bed and drink this," he told Josar. "It will make you sleep. When you awake you will have no tongue. May God forgive me."
"He has already forgiven you, my friend."
The queen had made her ablutions and carefully arranged her hair and tunic. The news of the death of Abgar had reached the farthest corner of the palace, and she expected her son, Maanu, to appear at the door of the royal chambers at any moment.
The servants, with the aid of the physicians, had prepared Abgar's body for viewing by the citizens of Edessa. The king had asked that prayers be said for the repose of his soul before his body was placed in the royal mausoleum.
The queen did not know whether Maanu would allow her to bury Abgar in accordance with the laws of Jesus, but she was prepared to fight that last battle for the man she loved.
During the hours that she sat alone with the body of Abgar, the queen looked deep within her heart for the reason her son might hate her so. And she found the answer; indeed, she had always known it, though until that morning she had never faced it. She had not been a good mother. No, she had not. Her love for Abgar excluded all others; she had not allowed anything or anyone, even her children, to keep her from the side of the king. In addition to Maanu, she had brought four other children into the world: three daughters and a son, who died soon after he was born. Her daughters had held little interest for her; they were quiet children who were soon married off in order to strengthen alliances with other kingdoms. She had hardly felt it when they were gone, so intense was her love for the king.
That devotion was also why she had suffered in silence the pain of Abgar's love for Ania, the dancing girl who had infected him with her fatal illness. The queen let not a word of reproach pass her lips, so that nothing might cloud her relationship with the king.
During her life she had had no time for Maanu, so all-absorbing was her love for Abgar. And now she was going to die, because she was certain that Maanu would not allow her to live. She was sorry for the manner in which she had failed her son, for not having been a true mother to him. How selfish she had been! Would Jesus forgive her?
The powerful voice of Maanu reached the royal chamber before the prince himself did.
"I want to see my father!"
"He is dead."
Maanu glared at her defiandy.
"Then I am the king of Edessa."
"You are, and all shall recognize you as such."
"Marvuz! Take the queen away!"
"No, my son, not yet. My life is in your hands, but first we must bury Abgar like the king he was. Allow me to carry out his last instructions, which the royal scribe will confirm for you."
Ticius approached warily, bearing a roll of parchment.
"My king, Abgar dictated to me his last wishes."
Marvuz whispered something in Maanu's ear. Maanu looked all around the chamber, and he saw that the head of the royal guard was right: In addition to the servants, the apartment was filled with scribes, physicians, guards, and courtiers, all watching expectantly. He could not allow himself to be guided by hatred, at least not obviously, or he would frighten those who would be his subjects. Far from gaining their cooperation and consent, he would find they conspired against him. He realized that the queen had won yet again. He wanted to kill her on the spot, and with his own hands, but he had to wait, had to agree to bury his father with all the pomp and respect accorded a king.