He imagined the lies they would tell her.
Gorgias wanted to believe that Genseric was telling the truth: That it was Wilfred who was responsible for his imprisonment. Perhaps he did want to protect him from the parchment-maker. Or was it more that he wanted to watch over his progress with the document? But, why in such a place of confinement where he had so little control? He could have chosen the scriptorium, where all the necessary equipment could be found, or even his own chambers, to keep him under close scrutiny. After all, Wilfred didn’t know about the attack, so if he was being sequestered for his own safety, as the coadjutor claimed, Wilfred probably would have thought the scriptorium sufficient.
As night fell, he heard the sound of the bolt announcing someone’s entrance. He thought it might be the count, but the stench of urine announced the arrival of the coadjutor. Then he heard his slow, deliberate voice ordering him to go to the back of the room.
Gorgias did so and asked after his wife, but received no answer. The hatch at the foot of the door started to revolve, and when it stopped turning, he went to investigate and found Genseric had placed inside his cell a hunk of bread and a jug of water. From the other side of the door, he heard the coadjutor tell him to take the food and put the list of the items that he would need to complete his work in the hatch.
“Not until you answer me,” he insisted.
A few moments went by, which felt like an eternity to Gorgias. Then the hatch turned again, taking with it the bread and water. Gorgias thought he could hear Genseric retrieving the food from the hatch on the other side. Then he heard a door slamming, and then silence, a silence that lasted until deep into the early hours.
Midmorning, Genseric returned, this time humming a tune. After checking to see if Gorgias was awake, he informed him that Rutgarda was well. He had visited her at her sister’s house.
“I told her you would be spending a few days in the scriptorium, working, and you know what? She was perfectly understanding. I gave her two loaves and some wine, and I promised her that while you remain with us, she will have the same every day. She asked me to give this to you.”
Gorgias watched the hatch revolve. Along with the bread and water that he had taken away the day before, there was a little embroidered scarf. It was Rutgarda’s—she wore it all the time.
Gorgias held it gingerly against his chest. Then he took the bread, which he eagerly began to eat. From the other side Genseric pressed him for the list of things he would need. Still wolfing down the bread, Gorgias wrote a long list on the tablet. Next he pretended to go over the notes before leaving the tablet in the hatch and rotating it back to its initial position. Genseric grasped the tablet, read it closely and disappeared without saying a word.
An hour later he returned laden with sheets of parchment, inkwells, and other writing utensils. He told Gorgias that he would visit him every day to check on his progress, bring food, and remove his excrement. Before leaving he also assured him that he would visit Rutgarda. Then he said farewell and left the crypt, leaving Gorgias with his equipment.
When Gorgias was sure he was alone, he began work. He took one of the codices from among those that Genseric had brought and turned his back to the door to hide his movements as an extra precaution. With the utmost care, he unfolded a blank parchment. Spreading it out on the desk, he brought the words to mind as if he were reading them:
IN-NOMINE-SANCTAE-ET-INDIVIDUAL-TRINITATIS-PATRIS-SCILICET-ET-FILII-ET-SPIRITUS-SANCTI
- - -
IMPERATOR-CAESAR-FLAVIUS-CONSTANTINUS
He knew the text by heart. He had read the heading a hundred times and transcribed it just as many. He crossed himself before beginning and checked the quality of the skin on which he would make the copy. Despite its rather large size, it was still too small for the twenty-three pages in Latin and twenty in Greek that he would need. He ran his fingers over the imperial seal printed at the foot of the parchment that depicted a Greek cross over a Roman head. Encircling the seal was the name Gaius Flavius Valerius Aurelius Constantinus—Constantine the Great, the first Christian emperor and founder of Constantinople.
Legend had it that Constantine’s conversion had taken place four centuries ago, during the Battle of the Milvian Bridge. It was said that, shortly before the attack, the Roman emperor saw a cross floating in the sky. Inspired by the image he embroidered the Christian symbol onto his standards. The battle ended in victory for Constantine and in gratitude he renounced paganism.
Gorgias reflected on the document, which was divided into two different texts. The first part, or the Confessio, recounted that Constantine, now afflicted with leprosy, went to see the pagan priests at the Capitol in Rome, who advised him to dig a ditch, fill it with the blood of newly sacrificed children, and then bathe in it while the blood was still warm. However, the night before he was to do this, Constantine had a vision in which he was told to turn to Pope Sylvester and give up paganism. Constantine decided to obey his dream, so he converted and was cured.
The second part, entitled Donatio, spoke of the honors and privileges that, as payment for his cure, Constantine would grant the Church. The preeminence of the Roman Papacy over the patriarchates of Antioch, Alexandria, Constantinople, and Jerusalem was thus recognized. Moreover, to guarantee that the pontifical dignitaries held lands and possessions befitting their rank, he also donated the Lateran Palace, the city of Rome, all of Italy, and the entire West. Finally, so that he would not infringe upon the rights he had granted, Constantine declared he would build a new capital in Byzantium, where he and his descendants would limit themselves to governing the eastern territories. There was no doubt: That donation represented a great leap in the expansion of Christendom.
With the utmost care, he divided the parchment into the gatherings that would form the quinternions. Next he split the sheets into bifolios of an identical size and ensured that there were enough of them. Then he dipped his quill in the ink and began to transcribe the text on the sealed parchment from memory. Despite the persistent pain in his arm, he did not stop until the day’s end.
10
Theresa was surprised to find she wasn’t disturbed by the taxidermic process, and it even made her forget for a moment about the dagger. She could see that Althar had started building the frame for the bear’s great pelt. The structure had a central trunk, with two thinner poles serving as legs. The old man asked her to remove the skin to test the balance of the frame. Then he changed the position of the legs and shored them up with nails and wedges.