The Scribe

Theresa looked at the parchment with the feeling that the enigma was slowly revealing itself. Yet, she was still confounded by Alcuin’s behavior.

The monk continued. “Through bribery, the empress’s assassin gained access to the document, which he managed to destroy before he was caught by the papal custodian. The thief was executed, but the document lay charred on the Vatican floor. Since then Irene has questioned the validity of the Donation through diplomatic missions, particularly after finding out that Pope Leo III wants to crown Charlemagne as the Holy Roman Emperor.”

Theresa could not hide her astonishment. Everyone knew that the emperor was the Byzantine monarch.

“Well, the pope doesn’t think so,” Alcuin continued. “Rome wishes to strengthen its relationship with an emperor who is both energetic and understanding, a monarch who has demonstrated his valor and generosity. But Irene sees this decision as a maneuver that will drain Byzantium’s power, thus she wants to prevent it. By destroying the document, the empress has got rid of the proof of the legitimacy of the Papacy’s possessions, and without physical proof to validate it, nothing can prevent her from attacking Rome to stop Charlemagne being named emperor.”

“But it makes no sense. How can the existence of the document be so significant? It’s nothing more than parchment.” She was beginning to grow weary of Alcuin’s lecture, never forgetting that all the while her father was dying in a meat safe.

“You might think so, but sooner or later Irene will die, just as we all will. And those who will follow us will have the same desires, the same ambitions. It’s not just a question of the whim of one powerful woman: The very future of humanity is at stake. To win this battle the Papal States must secure legal ownership of their possessions, which will in turn protect Charlemagne’s ascension to Holy Roman Emperor. Charlemagne will guide the Western Empire along the path of Our Lord, promote learning, fight heresy, crush the pagans and the infidels, spread the Word of God, unify believers, and subjugate blasphemers. This is the real reason why the document must be finished. Otherwise, we will witness endless battles that will continue for centuries until Christendom is destroyed.”

He fell silent, pleased with himself, as though his explanation would have convinced even the most foolish.

However, Theresa gave him a look of indifference.

“This is why the copy must be finished before the council that the pope will call in the middle of June,” he added. “Do you understand?”

“What I understand is that Rome yearns for the power that Byzantium claims as its own, and that your primary desire is to see Charlemagne crowned. Now tell me: Why should I believe a man who keeps my father in a hole? A man who has manipulated, lied, and murdered? Tell me why I should help you.” The fact that the conclusions still had to be added to the parchment gave her a strong bargaining chip that she thought she had lost. “Still, I’ll repeat my offer: Free my father, and I will finish the document.”

Alcuin stood. He approached the window and looked outside. He could smell the aroma of resin from a little forest nearby.

“Nice day,” he said, then turned back around to face Theresa. “When I chose you, I clearly knew what I was doing. All right, lass. I’ll tell you what I know, but keep in mind your oath—for if you dare to break it, I will personally make sure that every last one of your nightmares comes true.”

Theresa wasn’t intimidated. The stylus under her dress gave her courage.

“My father is dying,” she pressed.

“All right, all right.” He came away from the window and, grim-faced, he paced around the perimeter of the room. He walked upright, slowly, meditating on his words. “The first thing you should be aware of is that I have known Gorgias for a long time,” he said, “and I assure you that I am fond of him and admire him. We met in Pavia, when you were still a little girl. He was fleeing from Constantinople with you and, seeking help, he came to the abbey where I was resting on my journey to Rome. Your father was an educated man with extensive knowledge, and of course alien to the corruptions of the court or the Vatican. He had an excellent command of Greek and Latin, he had read the classics, and he seemed like a good Christian. So, not without some self-interest, I suggested he accompany me to Aquis-Granum. I needed a Greek translator at the time and Gorgias needed work, so we returned together and he settled here in Würzburg to await the completion of the palatine schools that were being built in Aquis-Granum. Here he met Rutgarda, your stepmother, and very soon they married, no doubt with your future in mind. I would have preferred him to have established himself within the court, but Rutgarda had her family here, so in the end we agreed that he should work for Wilfred translating any codices I sent to him.”

Though she nodded with interest, Theresa still didn’t understand the connection to the series of murders. When she told him as much, Alcuin asked her to be patient.

“All right. Let’s move on to the murders, then. On the one hand there is the death of Genseric. And also the wet nurse, and the death of her likely lover and murderer, the parchment-maker.”

“And the young sentry,” Theresa added.

“Ah, yes! That poor lad.” He shook his head with an expression of disapproval. “Not to mention the other youngsters who were stabbed to death. But we’ll talk about them and the sentry later. As for Genseric, ruling out the stylus as the cause of his demise, I am inclined to think it was a potion, some deadly poison that was administered to him. Zeno spoke of his trembling and the itching in his arm, which tallies with what happened to the parchment-maker, who if I remember rightly, also complained of a strange prickling in his hand. I think I even drew a picture.”

Alcuin retrieved a parchment with a picture of a hand with two little circular marks in the center. “I drew this after his death,” he pointed out. “Look closely. Doesn’t it remind you of something?”

“I don’t know. A sting?”

“With two puncture holes? No. I would suggest it’s more like a snakebite.”

“A serpent? Are you implying they weren’t murdered?”

“I didn’t say that. As for the hand wounds, I consulted with Zeno and he agreed that the diameter and appearance of the perforations were similar to those made by a viper. But let us consider the position of the marks.” He pointed to them carefully. “It would be difficult for a snake to bite a palm unless someone was stupid enough to try to grab it. Perhaps the snake might go for the back of the hand or even a finger—but not the palm. Look, give me your hand,” he requested. “Now use your fingers to simulate a serpent’s jaw and strike at my hand.”

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