Wilfred tapped his fingers nervously. Then he cracked his whip and the two dogs pulled the mobile contraption toward one of the windows so he could look out and contemplate the mob.
Alcuin continued to stare at him, still taken aback that a cripple could move around with the help of nothing more than a couple of dogs. Then he realized that everyone was staring at him, waiting for his explanation. “First we must verify that this young woman really is who she appears to be,” he said. “I know those present say they recognize her, but what do the young woman’s relatives say? Can we be sure when she hasn’t confirmed it herself?”
“For the love of God! Try to be sensible,” Korne suddenly cut in. “How is the young woman going to confirm her own identity if she is unconscious? We’ll have to wait for the stepmother to arrive and see if she can clarify anything.”
“And her father, the scribe?” Alcuin inquired.
“He disappeared a couple of months ago. We haven’t found him yet.”
For a moment there was silence, then Zeno appeared after having examined her condition.
“How is she?” Izam asked the physician.
“Cold as ice, but the warmth from the hearth will soon revive her.”
Izam turned to the fireplace, a sort of oven adjoining the wall of one of the rooms, instead of the usual fireplace dug into the ground.
Korne cleared his throat. Nobody wished to bring up the subject of resurrection.
“Well,” the parchment-maker announced, “it seems obvious that the girl never died in the fire.”
Alcuin stood. His great height projected a long shadow that slid toward the parchment-maker. “Let’s get one thing clear. The only undeniable thing is that the young woman here now lives. Whether the woman you refer to died in the fire is what we want to ascertain. Remember that, after the disaster, her parents recognized the body.”
“It was an unrecognizable body. Zeno can confirm it,” Korne said adamantly.
Alcuin looked at Zeno, but the physician took a swig of wine and looked away. Alcuin pulled a Vulgate from among his belongings and his skinny fingers slowly opened the cover and traced the volume as if he were reading something. Then he closed the book, lifted his gaze, and fixed his eyes on Korne. “Before beginning this discussion, I briefly made my way to the fortress chapel to pray to God to enlighten me. I prayed after touching the relics of the Santa Croce and suddenly I had a vision. An angel appeared before me from the darkness. From his neck came a resplendent crown that bordered his long and immaculate head of hair. He was floating gently, like a leaf on still water and his eyes emanated the eternal peace of the Almighty. The harbinger showed me Theresa’s body consumed by flames, and beside her another perfect body was formed by a whirl of blinding light, which swelled and gleamed until a new Theresa was fashioned, alive and without sin.”
“Another Theresa? Are you suggesting that it is not the same one?” a frightened Wilfred asked.
“Yes and no. Imagine for a moment a little caterpillar. Imagine this little caterpillar of imperfection leaving the cocoon of sin to become a virtuous butterfly. The caterpillar and the butterfly are the same creature, but one lies consumed while the other is reborn before it flies up to the heavens. The truth of the matter is that Theresa died. Perhaps she sinned, and her body burned for it. But sometimes God, in his infinite wisdom, reveals the path to redemption by bestowing upon us a miracle. A wonder that shows us the way of repentance.” He gave Wilfred a grim look. “The Creator might have allowed Theresa’s soul to suffer in the Acheron, the Phlegethon, and the Cocytus of the Greeks, in order to purge her sins in the place where the Lord cleanses the foulness of the daughters of Zion. But, what good would it have been if none of us learned from her torment?”
Wilfred and Flavio were captivated. They hardly breathed and remained silent for a few moments, until they realized that Alcuin had finished. However, Korne’s eyes were blinking stupidly. Though he didn’t understand the full meaning behind Alcuin’s words or know for certain whether God had a hand in it, he wasn’t about to admit there had been miracle. “And what does that prove? The Devil might have resuscitated her,” he sputtered.
Alcuin took a triumphant breath. He had managed to make Korne fall into heresy. Now it would be easy to divert his attention, accusing him of blasphemy. “Are you denying this divine intervention?” he said, raising his voice. “Do you dare contradict God? To compare His infinite power with the degradation of the Devil? Kneel, blasphemer! Show your remorse and accept the ways of the Lord—or prepare for immediate torment.”
Alcuin snatched Izam’s sword from him and held it against Korne’s throat.
“Swear before God!” he commanded him, holding out the Bible. “Swear before God that you renounce the Devil!”
Sweat appeared on Korne’s brow while he swore as ordered. Then he stood and left the room, biting his lip.
Once they were left alone, Flavio remonstrated with Alcuin. He was the papal envoy and, therefore, the only person authorized to pass judgment on a divine intervention. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but perhaps you have been too hasty. Sometimes, astonishing events are caused by the most trivial circumstances. After all, Zeno says that the body that burned in the fire was unrecognizable.”
“Look, Flavio: Zeno wouldn’t even recognize his own mother,” Alcuin retorted, pointing at the sixth cup of wine that he had emptied.
“But, damn it! You could at least have waited to share your vision until after Theresa woke up, so she could tell us what happened. I assure you that if the miracle is real, I will be the first to celebrate it.”
“You heard Wilfred say what kind of a man that Korne is. He’s driven to do away with Theresa. The young woman was in danger, so if a miracle will help me save her life, why not welcome it?”
“What are you saying? That you made it up? You didn’t have that vision?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“God Almighty! And could you not think of anything else aside from inventing a miracle?”
“Flavio, after what happened in the fire, it is a miracle indeed that the young woman lives. It’s just as if she had been resurrected. What’s more, God assists us in different ways. You with your relics, and me with my visions,” he declared.
At that moment a disheveled and frightened maidservant came into the room.
“The girl’s waking up,” she announced.
They both rushed to where Theresa was resting. Alcuin saw that her face was beaded with sweat. He removed the blankets that covered her and asked for a candle to be brought over. Then he soaked a cloth in warm water and carefully cleaned the girl’s face. Next, as he normally did with his students suffering from exposure to the elements, he rubbed down both of her arms, concentrating on the joints.