Pawn in Frankincense - Dorothy Dunnett [255]
Neither moved; and the voice of Pierre Gilles, scholar, anatomist and historian, mouthing sonorously from the ceiling, made them both jump.
Item. The gold chest set with rubies, containing the iron chains of St Peter. Item, a gold cross set with jewels and pearls, and three golden lamps and two score silver candelabra, with golden apples depending. Item, two golden chalices and one golden dove. Item, the headdress and belt of the Prophet Elijah, encased in a silver casket thickly covered with jewels. Item, a great leather case containing five score golden plates, each set with pearls and small jewels. Item, a casket of gold within a casket of silver, containing the robe, the girdle and the icon of Mary the Mother of God. Item—’
‘From St Sophia?’ said Jerott. His gaze, since Gilles started to speak, had been only on the old man at the top of the rope, calmly reading his stupefying list: an inventory which, if true, meant only one thing: the treasure from the altar, the sanctuary and the chapels of the church of St Sophia: the furnishings of the new tabernacle of God and the relics brought to it from all over the Christian world. The apparel of the Heavenly Bridegroom, believed ruined and thieved by the barbarian when he tore the silver from Justinian’s columns and the gold from the aisles.
‘… Most of it has gone,’ said Gilles’s reflective voice. ‘The silver altar table and the crown of Constantine and the silver chariot of Constantine and Helena: all the large objects have gone. There were forty thousand pounds of silver in the priests’ sanctuary alone. But consider what price, for example, the Virgin’s casket might command among the Church Fathers? Your young friend conceives it effort well spent.’
‘And do you?’ Jerott said. Marthe, he could feel, was on her knees, her fingers gently probing. There was a little creak as one of the caskets opened, and he heard her take a short breath.
There was a pause. Then, ‘Who would not have yearned to make this discovery?’ said Gilles. ‘It is one I have traced over long years and through many sources, until this one manuscript yielded the last clue I wanted: a block of distorted notes which I had no time to decipher before they were lost. I had been working in the vaults of St Sophia when I was asked to leave: they were afraid of what I might find and take, never dreaming that the real treasure was far off, under the earth.… If you had followed the tunnel uphill instead of turning here to the right you would have found where it branches. One conduit runs clear and direct to St Sophia: it was the one I was seeking and it is unblocked still: I have been there. The other branch is short and runs to the Hippodrome. Only this arm was blocked by fallen debris, perhaps when the palace of Ibrahim Pasha was built, or the summer praying-place destroyed for the Mosque of the Three—both must be near. The conduit was roofed with marble slabs from many buildings just here: when you come up you will see them, some with letters and some with low relief … one can see even the stamps on the bricks. So near is history.’
‘So you don’t regret it?’ said Jerott.
‘I have seen them,’ said Gilles. ‘I shall examine and record them, perhaps, before my friends take them from me.… I should like to have been known as the man who found Justinian’s treasure. I should like to have seen the pieces studied by scholars and placed together, as they have always been, in the sanctuary of the church, not competed for and sold to covetous and ignorant collectors. Had I been able to present this to my patron, I could have commanded any position, any sum for my travels and studies.… I regret the irresponsible and mischievous way I have been compelled to give up what is mine, and I find it hard to forgive these two stupid people for what they are doing.…’
‘But?’ said Jerott. Beside him Marthe was also standing, her head flung back, watching