An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [47]
‘What rank does he hold in his monastery?’
‘None, he does not want rank. Which perhaps is why he’s so well thought of by so many. He presents no threat.’
Andreas thought, this guy Zacharias seems too good to be true. What’s he doing in the outcast monastery if he’s so talented? ‘Do you happen to have a file on him?’
The Protos paused. ‘What you’re asking is highly irregular.’
‘So is the murder of a monk. And I’m trying to keep it that way.’
The Protos let out a breath. ‘You have your own special way with words.’
‘Can you arrange for me to come up and meet with Zacharias?’
‘When?’
‘Today.’
‘Impossible, this is Holy Week.’
‘Your Holiness, I appreciate all that but like I said—’
‘My son, I understand what you’re about to say, but you don’t understand. That monastery has the strictest rules of any on our Holy Mountain. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed access during Easter Week. From Sunday to the following Sunday at noon it has no contact with the outside world. There is no telephone and even electricity is forbidden during that holy period. There is no way you can visit or communicate with Zacharias until Sunday afternoon.’
Andreas let out a deep breath. ‘When can you get me his file?’
‘The one I have, right away, but it contains little more than what I’ve said. Any additional information would be in his monastery’s file.’
‘And not available until Sunday.’
‘Assuming the abbot cooperates. Sorry.’
Andreas thought damn, but said, ‘Thank you, Your Holiness.’
‘You’re welcome, my son.’ He paused. ‘And I appreciate all that you’re doing. Bless you and your family.’
‘Thank you.’
Between the garlic and the blessing things were looking up. Now if only he had some idea of where the devil to look for an answer, or something like that.
This was the time of year he liked least. Most held the opposite belief. They lived for the pageantry and depth of Orthodox Easter. He couldn’t stand being cooped up for almost eight days, and counted off every day, every hour, until Sunday noon, his own resurrection day. But he never let on. Never. He had their trust and wasn’t about to lose it with a casual gesture or word. No, he wouldn’t let down his guard for a second.
Gaining trust wasn’t as hard as many thought, at least not for Zacharias. He’d been doing it for years, long before finding his way into monastic life. Through time and patience he’d take the measure of one he wished to befriend, then with an easy smile, become exactly what the other wanted him to be, allowing his target to take center stage and credit for whatever mattered to the other. And when the potential friend questioned Zacharias’ motives - and that time always came - Zacharias was at his best.
He’d confide a past that made him less than perfect, one that encouraged rescue and, in a monastery, a shared desire for salvation. His story forged a relationship in spiritual steel. The other now ‘knew’ Zacharias’ weaknesses and understood him completely: Zacharias was a soul seeking redemption and a place in heaven through a revived life of selfless good works and prayer.
And to keep all of them believing that, he’d keep on praying.
‘These still are pretty good.’ Kouros was eating one of the spanikopita from the night before.
‘Obviously, you’re a bachelor,’ said Andreas.
‘And proud of it.’ He finished off the last bite and reached for another one.
‘Stop already, I’m getting sick watching you eat that crap.’
Kouros didn’t stop. ‘So, how did your early morning call go to the Protos?’
‘Just terrific, everything’s absolutely perfect in paradise. The answer to our question on the surprise appearance of the twentieth abbot at the Protos’ ceremony turns out to be a dead end. We’ve got a savior monk reuniting the gone-astray monastery with the flock. And I can’t even talk to that monk until Sunday morning.’
‘Sunday, why Sunday?’
‘No person or communication is allowed to enter or exit that monastery from Palm Sunday through noon on Easter Sunday.’
‘Bummer. Which monastery is it?’
‘The one Maggie and I were talking about last