The Sacred Scroll Read Online Free Page A
was as cool as the look in her eyes.
He knew she spoke three living languages fluently – French, Arabic and Chinese, which complemented his own German, Italian and Spanish. In addition, she knew Latin and Greek, but her real expertise was in Sanskrit and Aramaic, with a working knowledge of the ancient Babylonian languages – Sumerian and Akkadian. Those were the skills she’d been picked for.
‘Hello.’
‘Hello.’
Marlow took stock of his new colleague. An intelligent face whose expression was reserved, though Marlow sensed humour beneath the surface, and in the fine lines at the corners of the mouth.
She was maybe 1.70m tall. High cheekbones, lips less than what you’d call full, a nose that just managed not to be aquiline, a delicate chin. All framed by the kind of long hair a model would die for, auburn. Lightly tanned skin, slight sunglass-paleness around the eyes. Her chunky grey sweater and black jeans couldn’t disguise an athletic figure.
She gave him a faint smile now. Marlow, homing in on details, saw that her simple clothes were complemented by an emerald pendant on a silver chain, and an emerald ring on her right hand. On the little finger next to it was a minute, faded tattoo of what looked like a heart.
‘Good to meet you,’ she said.
‘Welcome, all of you, to Section 15,’ said Hudson, clearing his throat. ‘Which, with Jack’s arrival, is now complete. As you know, this section’s been created in response to aspecial contingency of prime importance. As far as I am concerned, you’ll report to me but I’ll leave you alone. In fact, the fewer the people who know what you’re doing, the better, even within INTERSEC.’ He turned to Marlow. ‘Sorry to be brief, but there’s no time for a welcome party. I’ll leave you to get acquainted. But don’t take too long over it. Leon will fill you in.’
Marlow nodded, and Hudson left, trailing his aura of expensive cigars and cologne.
‘So what have we got?’ he said, turning to Lopez. ‘A handful of missing archaeologists? They must be super-important.’
Then the blue phone rang. Marlow nodded again. Lopez picked it up, spoke briefly and passed it over.
Marlow listened intently, and hung up.
‘Playtime over,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to work.’
4
Constantinople, Year of Our Lord 1204
At a sign from his master, Leporo began to read from de Treillis’s battle memoir again.
We found no fugitives in the Palace. We found only the great ladies, the Empress Marie of Hungary, who was the sister of the Hungarian king; and the Empress Agnes, the sister of our own King Philip, both widows of late emperors of this city and this Eastern empire.
I could see that the Italian, Boniface, one of our two leaders, had his eye on Lady Agnes from the first.
They say that fifty years ago the emperor had a golden throne which was lowered from hidden heights down on to the dais which stood ready to take its weight. The emperor would welcome ambassadors here, in the great palace of Boucoleon, clad in his gold-and-silver clothes, capes encrusted with emeralds and rubies and sapphires. Next to the throne stood a plane tree made entirely of gold, in which clockwork silver-and-gold birds sang. And they say that either side of the golden throne were mechanical lions and griffins which by a secret device could be made to turn their heads, open their mouths and roar. And – wonderful to relate – after envoys to himhad prostrated themselves, the emperor, on a signal, would be hoisted up on his throne to those hidden heights, only to descend again soon afterwards, resplendent as ever, but now in completely different robes.
Even the Turks who came here in those days, they say, were cowed and impressed.
We found no such thing in the palace as that throne, but for all we knew it was there somewhere, in its many rooms – we stopped counting at five hundred, wary of getting lost, of an ambush even. But there was no sign of one.
We were
He knew she spoke three living languages fluently – French, Arabic and Chinese, which complemented his own German, Italian and Spanish. In addition, she knew Latin and Greek, but her real expertise was in Sanskrit and Aramaic, with a working knowledge of the ancient Babylonian languages – Sumerian and Akkadian. Those were the skills she’d been picked for.
‘Hello.’
‘Hello.’
Marlow took stock of his new colleague. An intelligent face whose expression was reserved, though Marlow sensed humour beneath the surface, and in the fine lines at the corners of the mouth.
She was maybe 1.70m tall. High cheekbones, lips less than what you’d call full, a nose that just managed not to be aquiline, a delicate chin. All framed by the kind of long hair a model would die for, auburn. Lightly tanned skin, slight sunglass-paleness around the eyes. Her chunky grey sweater and black jeans couldn’t disguise an athletic figure.
She gave him a faint smile now. Marlow, homing in on details, saw that her simple clothes were complemented by an emerald pendant on a silver chain, and an emerald ring on her right hand. On the little finger next to it was a minute, faded tattoo of what looked like a heart.
‘Good to meet you,’ she said.
‘Welcome, all of you, to Section 15,’ said Hudson, clearing his throat. ‘Which, with Jack’s arrival, is now complete. As you know, this section’s been created in response to aspecial contingency of prime importance. As far as I am concerned, you’ll report to me but I’ll leave you alone. In fact, the fewer the people who know what you’re doing, the better, even within INTERSEC.’ He turned to Marlow. ‘Sorry to be brief, but there’s no time for a welcome party. I’ll leave you to get acquainted. But don’t take too long over it. Leon will fill you in.’
Marlow nodded, and Hudson left, trailing his aura of expensive cigars and cologne.
‘So what have we got?’ he said, turning to Lopez. ‘A handful of missing archaeologists? They must be super-important.’
Then the blue phone rang. Marlow nodded again. Lopez picked it up, spoke briefly and passed it over.
Marlow listened intently, and hung up.
‘Playtime over,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to work.’
4
Constantinople, Year of Our Lord 1204
At a sign from his master, Leporo began to read from de Treillis’s battle memoir again.
We found no fugitives in the Palace. We found only the great ladies, the Empress Marie of Hungary, who was the sister of the Hungarian king; and the Empress Agnes, the sister of our own King Philip, both widows of late emperors of this city and this Eastern empire.
I could see that the Italian, Boniface, one of our two leaders, had his eye on Lady Agnes from the first.
They say that fifty years ago the emperor had a golden throne which was lowered from hidden heights down on to the dais which stood ready to take its weight. The emperor would welcome ambassadors here, in the great palace of Boucoleon, clad in his gold-and-silver clothes, capes encrusted with emeralds and rubies and sapphires. Next to the throne stood a plane tree made entirely of gold, in which clockwork silver-and-gold birds sang. And they say that either side of the golden throne were mechanical lions and griffins which by a secret device could be made to turn their heads, open their mouths and roar. And – wonderful to relate – after envoys to himhad prostrated themselves, the emperor, on a signal, would be hoisted up on his throne to those hidden heights, only to descend again soon afterwards, resplendent as ever, but now in completely different robes.
Even the Turks who came here in those days, they say, were cowed and impressed.
We found no such thing in the palace as that throne, but for all we knew it was there somewhere, in its many rooms – we stopped counting at five hundred, wary of getting lost, of an ambush even. But there was no sign of one.
We were
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