The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud

25

GUNER FINISHED BRUSHING OFF ADDAIO'S black suit and hung it in the closet in the dressing room. On his way back to the bedroom he straightened the papers Addaio had left on the desk and put a couple of books back on the shelves.

Addaio had worked late. The sweetish scent of Turkish tobacco permeated the austere room. Guner threw the windows open and stood for a few seconds looking out at the garden. He did not hear the quiet footsteps behind him or see the troubled expression on his master's face.

"What are you thinking about, Guner?"

Guner turned around, trying not to let any emotion show through his impassive facade.

"Nothing, really. It is such a lovely day-it makes one feel like getting out."

"Why don't you spend a few days with your family? You can go as soon as I've left."

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. I'm going to Germany and Italy-I want to visit our people. I need to know why we're making mistakes and where the betrayal lies. My inquiries here have gone nowhere."

"You shouldn't go, Addaio. It will be dangerous."

"I can't have all of them come here; that would be dangerous."

"Have them meet you in Istanbul. The city is full of tourists all year long-no one will notice them there."

"But not all of them would be able to come. It's easier for me to go to them than for them to come to me. At any rate, it's decided. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"What will you tell people here?"

"That I'm tired and am taking a little vacation, to visit friends in Germany and Italy."

"How long will you be gone?"

"A week, ten days, no longer than that-so take advantage of it and have a rest for yourself. It will do you good to be rid of me for a while. You've seemed tense recently, angry with me. Why is that?"

"All right, Addaio. I'll tell you the truth. Perhaps you'll consider it while you are away. I have suffered, deep inside, about this for months, maybe years." The servant paused and looked at the pastor, then took a deep breath and continued. "It seems to me that we have come to betray all we have vowed to uphold. My heart breaks for those boys you sacrifice. The world has changed, but you are adamant that everything must go on the same. You cannot go on presiding over these barbaric mutilations and sending young men to their death, and-"

His master cut him off before he could go further. "We have survived for two thousand years because of the sacrifice and silence of those who came before us, sacrifices against which ours pale in comparison. Yes, I demand great sacrifices-I, too, have sacrificed my life, a life that has never belonged to me, as your life does not belong to you. Dying for our cause is an honor; sacrificing one's voice is as well. I do not cut their tongues out; they voluntarily offer that sacrifice because they know that it is essential to our cause. By doing that thing, they protect us all and protect themselves."

"Why do we not come out into the light?"

'Are you mad, Guner? Do you actually think that we would survive if we revealed ourselves? You know the power of those who oppose us and the danger we represent to them. Our histories are linked and they have eradicated all, all through the centuries who have tried to follow those links to their origin. We ourselves have found only half-truths and lies, despite all our efforts. What's wrong with you, what demon has possessed your mind?"

"Sometimes I think that the demon has possessed you. You have become hard and cruel. You feel pity for no one, nothing. Is that in service to your vows, Addaio? Or is it someone who all your life you did not want to be?"

They stood in silence, staring at each other. Guner realized that he had said more than he should have, and Addaio surprised himself by accepting, without a word, Guner's reproaches. Their lives were irremediably intertwined, and neither of them was happy.

Was Guner capable of betraying him? Addaio rejected the thought-no, he was not. He trusted Guner; in fact, he entrusted his life to him. "Pack my bags for tomorrow," he finally ordered.

Without replying, Guner turned and busied himself closing the windows. His jaw ached as he clenched his teeth. He breathed deep when he heard the quiet sound of the door closing behind the pastor.

He noticed a piece of paper on the floor, beside Addaio's bed, and he stooped to pick it up. It was a letter written in Turkish, unsigned. The person who wrote it was informing Addaio that the parole board in Turin was studying the possibility of freeing Mendib, and he asked for instructions, especially what to do if Mendib was released.

Guner asked himself why Addaio hadn't put away a letter as important as this. Had he wanted Guner to find it? Was he testing Guner-did he think he was the traitor?

Carrying the letter, he strode to Addaio's office, knocked softly at the door, and waited for the pastor to give him permission to enter.

'Addaio, this letter was on the floor next to your bed," he said without preamble when he again faced his master.

The pastor looked at him impassively and put out his hand for it.

"I read it. I imagine you intentionally dropped it so I would find it and read it-a trap to see whether I'm the traitor. I'm not. I have told myself a thousand times that I should leave; I've thought a thousand times about telling the world who we are and what we do. But I haven't, and I won't, in memory of my mother, and so that my family can go on living with its head held high and my nieces and nephews can enjoy a better, happier life than mine has been. For their sake, and because I do not know what would become of me, I don't reveal our existence. I'm a man, a poor man, too old to start a new life. I am a coward, like you-both of us became cowards when we accepted this life."

Addaio looked at him in silence, trying to see in Guner's expression some thought, some emotion, the trace of something that would tell him that his only friend still felt some affection for him.

"Now I know why you're leaving tomorrow," the little servant continued. "You're worried, you're afraid of what might happen to Mendib. Have you told his father?"

"Since you are so certain that you will never betray me, I will tell you that I'm worried that they will set Mendib free. If you've read the letter, then you know that our contact in the jail saw the head of the Art Crimes Department visit Mendib, and tells us that it seems clear that the warden is planning something. We can take no risks."

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever may be necessary to ensure the survival of our community."

"Even have Mendib murdered?"

"Is it you or I who has reached that conclusion?"

"I know you, and I know what you're capable of."

"Guner, you are the only friend I have ever had. I have never hidden anything from you; you know all the secrets of our community. But I realize now that you feel no affection for me whatever, and never have."

"You are wrong, Addaio, you are wrong. You were always good to me, from the first day I arrived at your house, when I was ten. You knew how it grieved me to leave my parents, and you did everything in your power to help me see them. I shall never forget how you would go to my family's house with me and let me spend the evening while you wandered through the countryside, taking your time so that your presence would not be a burden to us. I can never fault you for your behavior toward me. But your behavior toward the world, toward our community, the terrible pain you cause-that I cannot countenance."

Guner left the office and made his way toward the chapel. There, kneeling, he allowed his tears to wet his cheeks as he sought in the cross lying on the altar an answer to the questions that tormented him.