Totti’s face brightened. His eyes narrowed as his lips stretched into a broad smile.
“Very good, Sean. Are you a student of the scriptures?”
“I’ve done a bit of studying, yes.”
“Wonderful,” Totti said. “It’s rare to find laypeople these days with a good knowledge of the scriptures.”
Sean blushed. “Well, my parents had a big hand in that. I used to memorize Bible verses when I was a kid. They even made me get up in front of church once to recite a really long one. Looking back, it was a traumatic moment since I was terrified of being in front of a lot of people. I think it was a good experience, though.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Tommy said. “But would you mind showing us this statue?”
At first, the priest seemed puzzled by the request. “Well, I don’t normally go outside during visiting hours, but I don’t see what it could hurt. Come. Follow me.”
The priest held out his hand and led the way back through the basilica to the front entrance. More people had gathered just inside the giant entryway, eager to get a peek at the magnificent interior.
Totti nodded at one of the security guards as he stepped through the doorway and out onto the landing. He paused for a moment to allow the four visitors to catch up before he continued down the center of the steps. At the bottom, he turned left on the cobblestone and made his way through a collection of tourists busily taking pictures in front of the basilica. He reached the large base of the sculpture, stopped, and turned around.
“You can see that because of its size, this sculpture and the one of Peter across the way were not placed inside the basilica.” He pointed at Peter on the other side of the steps.
The four Americans looked up at the imposing statue.
The apostle Paul held a sword in one hand that was nearly three yards long. Just as the priest described, he had a book in the other hand with Philippians 4:13 written on the surface.
The huge base featured the papal coat of arms. Just above it, wrapping around the base just below Saint Paul’s feet, was something written in Latin.
Adriana read the inscription out loud. “The Pontiff ordered the images themselves here, in a suitable place, equal to the size of the temple of Peter, prince of the Apostles. In the year 1847, the first of his pontificate, while he was curator of the Vatican Works, Lorenzo Lucidi.”
“Very good,” Totti said, clearly impressed with her abilities. “Most people don’t read Latin.”
“When you do the kind of work we do, it’s kind of a necessity.”
“Ah. Well, I hope that I’ve been of service to you. I should probably get back inside in case anyone else has a question.”
The priest lingered for a moment. He was about to turn around and head back up the stairs when Sean had a thought that was needling his mind.
“I’m sorry, Father. Could I ask you one more question?”
“Certainly.”
Tommy and the others didn’t know where he was going with this.
“When we were inside, you said that these statues replaced the ones created by Paolo di Mariano.”
“That is correct,” the priest said with a nod. “You really do have a good memory, don’t you?”
“Don’t get me started,” Tommy said.
“Anyway,” Sean went on, ignoring his friend’s jab, “I’m wondering, did they replace both statues?”
“Yes,” the priest answers. “Both of these are nineteenth-century reproductions that are similar to the previous ones. They are much larger than the older versions.”
“So, what happened to the old statues?”
Totti cocked his head to the side. He had a beleaguered grin on his face. “You know, that’s a good question. Once more, you have presented me with a question no one has ever asked me before.”
“So you don’t know?” Tommy asked.
“Actually, as it would happen, I do. The originals were removed from Saint Peter’s Square and placed in the Vatican Library.”
“Oh,” Sean said in a disappointed tone.
“If that is all, I’ll leave you to your tour. Don’t worry about the guard inside. I’ll tell him to let you four back in with your tickets.”
“Thank you,” Sean said.
The other three threw in their thanks and watched as the old man slowly ascended the steps.
“Well, that was a huge waste of time,” Tommy said when the priest was out of earshot. “The altar is a solid piece of stone, and there’s nothing about this statue that suggests where the sword might be.”
“It’s not even the right apostle,” Adriana added.
“I don’t understand,” June said. “Were you thinking this sculpture might contain the sword? I thought it was in the altar or maybe underneath it.”
“Underneath the altar is the catacombs,” Tommy said. “We could get down there, but it might take days or weeks to get into one of those groups. They only allow a limited number of people each day since space is at a premium down there. And even if we could get down there, I’m not so sure we’d find anything.”
“He’s right,” Adriana said. “They’ve done many excavations under the basilica through the years. If the sword was there, they probably would have found it.”
June processed what they were saying. “So that’s why you wanted to take a closer look at this statue,” she said.
Tommy nodded. “I figured it was a shot in the dark, but a shot nonetheless. It’s a statue of an apostle holding a long sword. It looks out on Saint Peter’s Square where the obelisk is. I hoped there might be a connection.”
Sean stared up at the massive figure. “I don’t think you were that far off, Schultzie.”
Tommy turned and followed Sean’s gaze. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters, that sword looks eerily similar to renderings I’ve seen of Excalibur.”
“There are millions of those kinds of renderings,” Tommy said. “Some look the same. Others look different.”
“Yes, but this isn’t the kind of weapon that was used by the Romans at the time of Peter or Paul.”
“The priest said the sculpture was done in the nineteenth century,” June argued. “It’s probably in the style of weapons made during that era.”
Sean shook his head. “Nope. Swords made during that time were thinner, lighter. Sabers, rapiers, and swords like that were in fashion. Of course, they were weapons from a dying age since firearms were making bladed weapons obsolete.”
“You’re right,” Tommy said. “But that still looks more like a medieval sword rather than one from ancient Rome or before. Remember, we’re looking for a sword that was made before the time of Christ.”
The discussion dropped off for a minute as each person considered every point.
“Excalibur wasn’t only a sword of mystical power,” Adriana said. “It was an innovation, something that no one else had at the time. A sword such as this, in an era with much smaller weapons, would have been seen as something fit only for a king. It would have been an intimidating sight to behold, a king riding toward an army with a blade longer than anything they’d ever seen before.”
Her point lingered for a moment before Tommy commented. “So you’re saying that Excalibur was just as much a means of psychological warfare as it was an actual weapon?”
“Precisely.”
“Not that it matters,” June said. “We don’t have any more leads. It’s a shame we can’t get in to the Vatican Library to have a look at the original sculpture. I guess we’ll never know if it held the sword.”
Tommy wasn’t about to let go of all hope yet. His parents’ lives depended on him finding Excalibur. He’d wrestled his emotions for the last few days after learning they were still alive. All the pain, the lonely holidays as a young man, the memories he never got to experience with them gone, all kept trying to pry their way back into his mind. He pushed them away again as he spoke.