THE SILK TREE

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

‘But it’s my custom, I insist!’ Their genial captain would not be denied. ‘We raise Constantinople in the morning – this is our last night and you are my guests.’

It was an odd gathering in the cramped and dimly lit cabin. Besides their host there was Nicander and Marius, then in came a priest. He was in severe clerical garb and looked about disapprovingly before sitting. There would be no women allowed in this company, of course.

‘Well, now,’ the captain said breezily as he poured some wine. ‘And I’m honoured indeed, aren’t I.’

‘How so, sir?’ the priest said stiffly.

‘Why, it’s the first time ever that we’ve shipped an all-holy set o’ passengers, Reverend sir.’

‘All holy? What do you mean?’ snapped the priest.

‘These gentlemen are holy men, too, aren’t you?’

‘Yes. That is to say-’

‘Holy men? Are you monks or priests?’

‘Brother Paul, Brother Matthew.’

‘What church?’ the priest rapped.

‘We’re from the kingdom of Artaxium Felix, beyond Hawazin. The Church of St Agnes.’

‘I’ve never heard of it.’

‘As was isolated after the reign of the blessed Septimius Severus when our river changed its course.’

‘Isolated – is that the reason why you’re garbed in so disgraceful a dress? You’ve lost sight of the precious values of the One True Church, you’ve-’

Marius growled, ‘What we do in our own church is our business, not yours!’

‘Hah! You’re then a heretic.’ The voice had risen several notches. ‘You’ve strayed from the course of righteousness – you’re apostates. You know what is visited upon those who stand not in the true faith…’

Nicander felt a flush rising. ‘Are you so narrow-witted you can’t see there are other ways to wisdom? I’ll wager you’ve never set foot outside Justinian’s realm, seen for yourself how they order things.’

‘Of course I haven’t. Heathen, unlettered barbarians with as much understanding of higher matters as an animal!’

‘They’re not all barbarians!’ Nicander ground. ‘I’ve travelled… widely, and I can tell you there are savants and philosophers beyond the mountains that could put our own Pythagoras to some serious thinking.’

‘Rubbish! If there were any of these I would have heard of them.’

Nicander saw red. ‘I can prove it to you. As it happens, I can- wait.’

He returned with the first ‘holy scripture’ he had come to in their box. He waved it in the priest’s face, who recoiled with distaste.

‘Listen to this.’ It was the fourth scroll of Lao Tzu and Nicander painfully rendered in Greek the ringing paean to the denial of selfishness in exchange for a mystical union with the ultimate.

‘Give me that!’ The priest snatched it from Nicander.

‘I’ve with me more of those, all of which can stand with the very finest of our scholars.’

‘I can’t read it!’

‘That’s because it’s in Ch-, I mean it’s in a foreign tongue.’

‘Hmmph! It’s too dim in here, I’ll take it outside.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Nicander replied cynically.

He waited until he had gone then said, ‘There’s no medicine I know that can cure blindness of the mind.’

‘We’ll have trouble with him later,’ Marius muttered. ‘Better not get him going, Nico.’

‘With what we’re bringing back,’ he said with a satisfied smile, ‘we’ll have friends that’ll see him posted out to some far desert in an instant if we so desire.’

The captain blinked with incomprehension but said stoutly, ‘More wine, good holy men?’

They proffered their glasses, relaxed in the warmth of the knowledge of what the near future held for them.

‘Taking his time,’ Marius said. ‘Seems not to be getting anywhere, the fat prick.’

Nicander was about to reply when there was a disturbance at the door and it was flung open. A terrified crew member shouted, ‘Sir, sir – fire! Fire on deck!’

The captain thrust past in horror, closely followed by Nicander and Marius.

They were confronted by an appalling sight. Lit like a demon from underneath by red flames the priest danced about a small fire: somehow he’d found their box with the remaining holy scriptures.

‘You’re too late! I’ve consigned your sacrilegious scribblings to the tongues of hell where they belong,’ he crowed.

‘Over the side!’ screeched the captain. ‘Ditch it! Quickly.’

A crew member hurriedly levered the still burning box into the sea where it sizzled for a moment then slowly sank.

It had happened in seconds. The horror of fire in a ship at sea gave way to a rising frenzy at the realisation of what had happened.

That which they had cherished and protected over all those so many miles of mountain and desert for a year of their lives was now gone. For ever.

With an inhuman screech Marius leapt forward and fell on the demented priest.

Horrified crew tried to pull him off – it took five of them before he could be subdued.