'Perhaps.' Royan glanced at Nicholas, who rolled his eyes upwards and

then pushed his hat forward to cover his face.

'Perhaps St.. Frumentius gave it to the first abbot when he died.' Tamre

warmed to the subject. 'Or perhaps it was in his coffin with him when he

was placed in his tomb.'

'All these things are possible, Tamre,' Royan agreed.

'Have you seen the tomb of St. Frumentius?'

He looked around him guiltily. 'Only the ordained priests are allowed

into the tnaqdas, the Holy of Holies,' he hung his head and whispered.

'You have seen it, Tamre,' she accused him gently, stroking his head.

She was intrigued by the boy's guilt. 'You can tell me. I will not tell

the priests.'

'Only once,' he admitted. 'The other boys. They sent me to touch the

tabot stone. They would have beaten me if I had not. All the new

acolytes are made to do this.' He began to babble with the horror of the

memory of his initiation ordeal. 'I was alone. I was very afraid. It was

after midnight when the priests were asleep. Dark. The maqdas is haunted

by the ghost of the saint. They told me that if I was unworthy the saint

would strike me down with lightning.'

Nicholas removed the hat from his face and straightened up slowly. 'My

word, the child is telling the truth,' he said softly. 'He has been into

the Holy of Holies-'Then he looked across at Royan, 'Keep questioning

him. He may just give us something useful. Ask him about the tomb of St.

Frumentius.'

'Did you see the tomb of the saint?' she asked, and the boy nodded

vigorously. 'Did you go into the tomb?' This time he shook his head.

'No. There are bars across the entrance. Only the abbot is allowed into

the tomb, on the birthday of the saint.'

'Did you look through the bars?'

'Yes, but it is very dark. I saw the coffin of the saint. It is wood and

there is painting on it, the face of the saint.'

'Is he a black man?'

'No - a white man with a red beard. The painting is very old. The

picture is faded, and the wood of the coffin is rotting and crumbling.'

'Is it lying on the floor of the tomb?' Tamre screwed up his face in

thought, then after careful consideration shook his head. 'No, it is on

a shelf of stone in the wall.'

'Is there anything else you remember about the tomb of the saint?' Royan

tried to prod his memory, but Tamre shook his head.

'It was very dark, and the opening in the bars is small, he apologized.

'It does not matter. Is the tomb in the back wall of the rrtmdu?'

.'Yes, it is behind the altar and the tabot stone.'

'What is the altar made of - stone?'

'No. It is wood, cedarwood. There are candies, and a big cross, and the

many crowns of the abbot, and the chalice and staff.'

'Is it painted?'

'No, it is carved with pictures. But they are different from the

pictures inside the tomb of the saint.'

'What is different? Tell me, Tamre.'

Вы читаете The Seventh Scroll
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