The Last Cato (63 page)

“Do you know what I need to tell you, Farag?”

“No,” he replied, letting out a muffled laugh. “But I’m ready for anything.”

“Making love is the most wonderful thing in the world,” I said, convinced.

He laughed again softly. “I’m happy you discovered it,” he whispered, taking my hands and pulling me to him. Sitting on his legs, I stroked his chest. “Do you know that I can’t imagine life without you? I know that sounds silly, but it’s the truth.”

“Well, then, rest easy because now we’re a perfect match.”

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” I whispered and bent down to kiss him again.

“What about you? Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“No, that hasn’t sunk in. Tell me again.”

He sat up and grabbed me by the waist, kissing me again and again. The night grew short, and the new day came without our having slept a wink.

Thankfully, in the two weeks we spent in
Paradeisos,
we caught up on all the sleep we’d lost over the last three months.

O
n the thirteenth day of our stay in
Paradeisos,
returning from a visit to Edem and Crucis (we’d been to Lignum a couple of times), we were summoned to Cato’s
basileion
to receive final instructions before our departure. A committee of
shastas
had taken care of the necessary preparations.

We were led down some corridors we’d never walked through before and came to an enormous rectangular room with very high ceilings. The
shastas
were waiting for us, sitting in two rows on either side of the room. Cato CCLVII sat in front of some fresco paintings of Staurofilax Dionisios de Dara, dressed as an important Muslim dignitary, at the door of Nikephoros Panteugenos’s humble home holding the relic of the True Cross. He was leaning on his slender cane as always, with a look of satisfaction on his face.

“Come in, come in,” he said when he saw us hesitate at the door. “We have finished organizing the last details. Kaspar, sit down here with me, please. Ottavia and Farag, you take those seats in the center.”

The Rock hurried over and sat next to Cato, gathering the
himation
like a true Staurofilax. It was gratifying to see how that former captain of the Swiss Guard had fit into daily life in
Paradeisos.
He was assimilating it all so quickly; he would soon pass for one of them. I commented to Farag that Khutenptah’s influence was part of that change. Stubborn as a mule, he insisted that the captain was simply erasing the past and inventing a future for himself, setting off on a new life. Whatever it was, the Rock was starting to look more like a Staurofilax. Besides occupying himself with Khutenptah, the gardens, and organizing our departure, he also began the training curriculum offered in
Paradeisos.

“You will leave here tomorrow morning, at first hour,” Cato began. I saw Mirsgana to my right in the second row and gently waved to her. She waved back. “That way you will discover the exact location of
Paradeisos,”
he added with a smile. “A group of Anuaks will be waiting for you and will take you to Antioch. There you will set sail again with Captain Mulugeta Mariam and retrace your steps on the route you took to get here. Mariam will follow the Nile to the delta and will leave you in a safe place near Alexandria. After that, you mustn’t mention this place anymore except to each other and never in anyone else’s presence. It’s your turn, Teodros.”

Teodros, seated in the front row on the left, stood up. “The last contact the new Staurofilakes had with the Christian churches was in the patriarchate of Alexandria, the first of June, this year, exactly one month ago. After that, in the outside world they’ve had no word of Kaspar, Ottavia, and Farag. According to reports we have received, the catacombs of Kom el-Shoqafa have been examined in depth by the Egyptian police, who obviously haven’t found anything. The churches are about to send in another team of investigators who will use the information you three obtained to pick up where you left off. It will be a futile effort, of course,” Teodros added, very confident. “What those three did,” he said pointing first to the Rock and then to the two of us, “forces us to suspend the tests for aspirants until we can resume them in full confidence of complete secrecy.”

“Why don’t we change them or just do away with them?” asked someone behind us.

“We have to respect tradition,” Cato said, raising his head then resting it back on his palm.

“So for the next ten or fifteen years, there will be no more tests,” Teodros continued. “Timely messages have already been sent so the brothers on the outside can erase all traces and be warned of possible interrogations. The doors to
Paradeisos
are being sealed. That just leaves the subterfuge that Ottavia and Farag will use to return to the outside, which Shakeb will now explain.”

Young Shakeb, sitting two seats down from Mirsgana, stood up as Teodros sat down, gathering the hem of his
himation
with an elegant gesture.

“Ottavia, Farag…,” he said, looking directly at us. Despite his round face, he was handsome with lively, expressive dark eyes. “When you return to Alexandria, a month and a half will have passed since you disappeared. You’ll have to tell the authorities where you’ve been and what you’ve done all that time and of course what happened to Captain Glauser-Röist.”

The expectation in the room was palpable. Everyone wanted to know what lie we would have to tell to defend ourselves against the inquisition we were certain to face.

“In the catacombs of Kom el-Shoqafa, the brothers in Alexandria have started to dig a false tunnel that ends at a remote corner of Mareotis Lake, near the ancient Cesarium. You will say that you were captured on the third level of Kom el-Shoqafa, that you were hit over the head, and that you lost consciousness, but that first you got a good look at the entrance to paradise. We will provide you with a very simple map that will help you locate it. You will say you awoke in a place called Farafrah, an oasis in the Egyptian desert, which is very difficult to reach, and that the captain didn’t wake up. The men who captured you said that he died while they were tattooing those crosses and letters on your bodies, but that they didn’t let you see the body. That leaves the door open for his possible return within a few months. Your description of the population of the place will match that of the village of Antioch. That way you won’t make any mistakes. Since the oasis of Farafrah doesn’t remotely resemble this town, you will send them on a merry chase. Don’t mention any names, only the name of the Bedouin who brought you your meals three times a day in the cell where they locked you up: Bahari. This name is so common in Egypt it will throw them completely offtrack. As a description of Bahari, you can describe Chief Berehanu Bekela—just be sure to make his skin lighter.” He took a breath and continued. “The evil Staurofilakes held you in the cell all this time.” The comment was met with laughter. “They repeatedly threatened to kill you until finally today, the first of July, they knocked you unconscious and dumped you near the mouth of the tunnel to Lake Mareotis with a written warning that you mustn’t say a word about what happened. You, of course, have no desire to continue the investigation. When the interrogations stop, you will look for a discreet place to live. You will go as far away from Rome—or better yet from Italy—as possible and disappear. We will keep a close watch so nothing happens to you.”

“We’ll have to find work…,” I said.

Cato interrupted me, raising his hand. “With respect to this matter, we Staurofilakes want to give you a farewell gift.” The Rock flashed us a mysterious smile. “Before, I said you had to learn to respect traditions. Of course, you must also renounce traditions or change them. During the tests of the seven deadly sins, as usually happens to those who reach the end, you, Ottavia and Farag, altered your life in a definitive and irreversible way. Jobs, countries, religious commitments, beliefs, philosophy… You changed everything to get here. Now there’s almost nothing left for you back there, but you are ready to go back and build the life you desire. Farag can get his job back in the Greco- Roman Museum in Alexandria, but Ottavia, you can’t set one foot in the Vatican Hypogeum. Nevertheless, you can count on your academic dossier which will open many doors for you. But still, what if we give you something that will let you decide your future with absolute freedom?”

I felt Farag’s hand squeeze mine. The muscles in my neck tensed out of anxiety. The Rock smiled so hard you could see both rows of his teeth.

“The expiation of the sin of avarice in Constantinople is going to change location. We will ask the brothers of that city to, over the next several years, organize the test of the winds in another part of the city without changing its content. That way you can ‘discover’ the mausoleum and the remains of Emperor Constantine the Great. This is our farewell gift to you.”

Farag and I were stunned for a few seconds. Baffled, we turned our heads very slowly to look at each other. I was the first to jump: I gave a leap of joy so big I dragged the
didaskalos
with me. It was a miracle I didn’t yank his arm out of its socket. I had given up on Constantine the moment I met the Staurofilakes and had forgotten all about him. Too many interesting things were happening to waste my time thinking about Constantine. So, when Cato gave us the discovery of the mausoleum with the emperor’s remains, our options suddenly opened up. Our future had been given to us on a gold platter.

We hugged and kissed each other; then hugged and kissed the Rock. We left that important assemblage and went to the great dining hall of the
basileion
where Candace and his acolytes had prepared an authentic feast for the senses.

Music played until the wee hours of the morning; the dancing lasted way beyond a prudent hour. Along with the
shastas
and the servers, we tumbled into the streets of Stauros, ready to swim in the warm waters of the
Kolos.
Cato had retired hours earlier. The first hour came when our partying reached its apogee. Then the Rock and Khutenptah told us we had to leave. The Anuak had already arrived, and we couldn’t wait any longer.

We said good-bye to hundreds of people we didn’t know, we kissed right and left, not knowing who we were kissing. Finally, Khutenptah and the Rock, with help from Ufa, Mirsgana, Gete, Ahmose, and Haide, dragged us from the arms of the Staurofilakes and led us away from earthly paradise.

Everything was ready. A carriage with our few belongings waited at the entrance to the
basileion.
Ufa climbed into the driver’s seat. Farag and I got in the back, still clutching Captain Glauser-Röist’s hands.

“Take care of yourself, Kaspar,” I said, calling him by his first name for the first time, about to burst into tears. “I’ve enjoyed knowing and working with you.”

“Don’t lie, Doctor,” he muttered, hiding a smile. “We had a lot of problems at first, remember?”

Suddenly, something came into my head I had to ask him. I couldn’t leave without knowing.

“Kaspar,” I said, nervously, “did Michelangelo design the uniforms the Swiss Guards wear? Do you know anything about that?”

It was important. We’re talking about an old, unsatisfied question I had never found the answer to. The Rock let out a belly laugh.

“Michelangelo didn’t design them, Doctor. Neither did Rafael, as some have said. This is one of the best-kept secrets in the Vatican, so don’t go around telling everyone what I’m about to tell you.”

Finally, the answer.

“Those flashy uniforms were designed by an unknown Vatican seamstress in 1914. The pope, Benedict XV, wanted his soldiers to wear something unique, so he asked the seamstress to dream up a new formal uniform. As you can see, the woman was inspired by the paintings of Raphael that show brightly colored clothing with gored sleeves, very fashionable in sixteenth-century France.”

I was speechless for a few seconds, shocked by the deception, and looked at the captain as if he’d just stabbed me with a dagger.

“Then…” I wavered. “Michaelangelo didn’t design them?”

Glauser-Röist laughed again. “No, Doctor, Michaelangelo didn’t design them. A woman designed them in 1914.”

Maybe I’d drunk too much and slept too little, but I was angry and I frowned. “Well, I wish you hadn’t told me.” I exclaimed, furious.

“Why are you so mad?” Glauser-Röist asked surprised. “Just a moment ago you were telling me you’d enjoyed knowing me and working with me!”

“Do you know what she calls you in private, Kaspar?” Judas-Farag blurted out. I stomped on his foot so hard it would have made an elephant tremble. “She calls you ‘The Rock.’”

“Traitor!” I exclaimed, looking at him sullenly.

“Don’t worry, Doctor,” Glauser-Röist laughed. “I always called you… No, I’d better not tell you.”

“Captain Glauser-Röist!” I began, but at that very moment, Ufa raised the reins and let them fall on the horses’ hindquarters. I had to grab on to Farag to keep from falling. “Tell me!” I shouted as we drove away.

“Bye, Kaspar!” Farag shouted, waving one arm in the air as he pushed me into my seat with the other.

“Good-bye!”

“Captain Glauser-Röist, tell me!” I kept shouting futilely as the carriage drove away from the
basileion.
Finally, defeated and humiliated, I sat next to Farag.

“We’ll have to come back someday so you can find out,” he said to console me.