Ronnie sat watching the Turkish countryside slide by. They pass through villages but mostly it was farmland dominated by fields of wheat, now in winter mode. Groves of fruit or nut trees broke up the flat monotony of the fields. Turkey wasn't quite a Third World country but it wasn't Kansas either. This was an ancient land, farmed for thousands of years. Every town they passed featured the tall, needle shaped tower of at least one mosque.
"Those towers look like missiles," Ronnie said. "Where that guy does his thing five times a day."
"The muezzein," Selena said.
"Yeah, him. Hey, Nick, I've been thinking about that dream."
"What about it?"
"When you hear a voice like that? It's a good idea to pay attention to it."
"Very funny, Ronnie."
"No, I'm serious. The question is, what are you supposed to pay attention to?"
"I haven't a clue."
Selena said, "That's what Count Mercurio said to Elizabeth: 'pay attention.' He was talking about why the Grail is important."
"It's important because ISIS can make trouble if they get their hands on it," Nick said.
"Do you really think that's the only reason? What about the legends? The Grail is a sacred object. It symbolizes healing through Spirit and the mystery of Christianity."
"Mmm."
"What about that manuscript we found, the Book of Simon?"
"It could be fake, something made up to attract pilgrims. I know you think it's real but it hasn't been tested to verify the age."
"Don't you feel any excitement about it at all?"
"Some. I never thought I'd be looking for the Grail for real. I read all the King Arthur stories when I was a kid."
"You were a kid?" Ronnie asked. "I thought you hatched out of an egg at Quantico."
Nick ignored him. "I used to imagine wearing shining armor and carrying a magic sword like Excalibur. I wanted to be Galahad, fighting monsters and seeking the cup that would heal the King."
"And the land," Selena said. "Remember? The land was blighted and dying. Arthur was wounded in the groin and the only thing that could heal him and the land was the Grail."
"Lots of symbolism there," Lamont said. "Sounds almost X-rated."
"Sex always makes for a good hook in a story," Ronnie said. "Don't forget Guinevere and Lancelot."
"Sex, betrayal, revenge and heroic deeds," Nick said, "not to mention Excalibur and the Lady of the Lake. It's a soap opera."
"Everything revolves around the Grail," Selena said. "Without the Grail, there's nothing to hold the story together. I think that's what you're supposed to pay attention to."
"The Grail? I thought that's what I was doing. Why we're here."
"I don't mean the physical cup. It's what it symbolizes that's important."
"Redemption?"
"And healing. Just like in the myth."
Halfway through the drive, Nick handed the wheel over to Ronnie. He moved to the back and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the tires on the road and the drone of the engine. He fell asleep and hoped he wouldn't dream.
CHAPTER 36
It was dark when they reached Midyat. The monastery was about a half hour away. Selena used the GPS to guide them to a hotel, where Nick reserved rooms for two nights. Maybe they'd go back to Incirlik tomorrow, maybe not.
Nick's dreams were filled with dark shadows and flashes of light. The next morning they had breakfast in the hotel restaurant.
Selena looked at the menu. It was in Turkish.
"Shall I order for all of us?"
"Go for it. Just so long as it tastes good and it's hot," Lamont said.
"Coffee," Nick said.
Selena surprised the waiter when she ordered in Turkish. Soon after, a steaming pot of black coffee appeared. Not long after that the waiter brought a large tray with several platters and a basket heaped with bread.
Ronnie looked down at a round metal dish in front of him. Steam drifted from the surface.
"What's this?"
"Menemem," Selena said. "It's a combination of eggs, tomatoes, spices and peppers. Probably has some onions, garlic and oregano. It's a common dish here for breakfast. Try it."
Ronnie tasted it. "Not bad. Like an omelette. Or a pizza without the crust."
"How can you have pizza without crust?" Lamont said.
"I didn't say it was a pizza, I said it was like a pizza, only without the crust."
"There's no pepperoni either."
"Pizzas don't always have pepperoni."
"Mine do. Better that way."
After that conversation the table was quiet except for the sounds of eating. By the time they left the hotel it had started to rain, a cold drizzle falling from a featureless, gray sky.
They got into the Toyota. Nick started the car and turned on the heater.
"What's the plan?" Ronnie asked.
"First we get gas. I saw a station last night, when we came in. Then we head to the monastery."
"And?"
Nick pulled out of the parking lot.
"I don't have a specific plan. We have to take it one step at a time. They give tours. We'll do a little recon first. I'm hoping something will give us an opening to ask about the Grail."
"You expect them to tell you they've got it?"
"Not at first. We're going to have to convince them that the secret is out and the bad guys are coming after it."
"How will they know we're not the bad guys?" Lamont asked.
"Selena will handle it," Nick said.
"I will?"
"You speak the language. You know the history. You're our best bet."
"What am I supposed to tell them?"
"You'll think of something."
"Even if the Grail was here, it could have been stolen or lost or moved."
"You can ask them about it. After you convince them we're on the side of the angels."
CHAPTER 37
The monastery was a sprawling complex of stone buildings on a high plateau. From the highway they followed a drive lined with trees to a large, paved parking lot. There were a dozen cars in the lot, including a black Mercedes with a uniformed driver waiting inside the car. He glanced over at them and went back to reading a newspaper.
The rain had stopped. They got out of the car and walked toward a set of broad, stone steps leading up to the entrance. Two tall bell towers topped with the Syriac cross rose over the buildings. Everything was made of sand-colored stone, perfectly cut and fitted. The motif of the diamond cross was everywhere you looked, set on balustrades as finials and carved into the walls.
"This is something," Lamont said. "Place looks like a fortress. That's a hell of a lot of stone."
"The monastery has been here for more than sixteen hundred years," Selena said. "They've had a lot of time to work on it."
"Let's see if anyone's home," Nick said.
They climbed past two crosses flanking the steps and stepped onto a flat stone terrace in front of the entrance. The door opened as they approached. A monk waited to greet them.
A full beard streaked with gray reached halfway down his chest. He wore a robe of midnight blue that was almost black, with a tight hood that covered his hair. It was bordered with white and divided in the middle by a white line. The top of the hood bore a lighter field of blue stitched with a dozen white Syriac crosses.
Nick guessed his age at around sixty. His face appeared relaxed. He looked as though he spent a lot of time smiling. He was shorter than Nick, about Ronnie's height.
The monk stood to the side and gestured for them to come in.
"Welcome," he said. "I'm Brother Jacob. Please, enter. Your friend is waiting for you."
"What friend?" Nick asked.
"This way," the monk said.
He led them down a long arched colonnade and through three arched doorways. As they moved deeper into the complex, the look of the passage changed. They were coming to the oldest part of the monastery, part of the original building.