Exodus (13 page)

Morgan nodded. “Go on.”
 

“There are corrections in the book of Exodus that Abasi thought might have clues to the whereabouts of the Ark. We had started to try and unravel it, but the funding ran out and it was considered an unworthy topic of research for scholars in a growing Islamic state. Judaeo-Christian artifacts were of waning interest to the University, but I think it will help us with possible locations.”

Morgan watched Khal as he scanned down the list, a crease of concentration between his thick eyebrows. He wore a light chambray striped shirt with elbow patches in darker blue. She smiled a little. He really liked to play the professor, but there weren’t too many academics whose rugged features suggested a wild ride bareback on a horse across the desert and whose profile could have been carved on a pharaoh’s tomb. He smelled of peppery spices, and her thoughts flickered to some images that would be quite unacceptable in a monastery library.
 

He looked up at her, sensing her gaze and Morgan quickly looked down at the sheaf of paper in her hands, pretending to look for something interesting.

“The fragment we want is in the archive cases, not the main library shelves,” Khal said. “It’s this way.”
 

He strode purposefully down the length of the library, the sound of his footsteps dampened by the weight of knowledge that crowded the shelves. Morgan hurried after him as he stopped at a bank of filing cabinets with long, thin drawers. These were the storage areas for manuscript fragments, encased in glass and kept in special conditions to preserve the delicate fabric and skin on which they were written. Khal ran his finger down the tiny labels handwritten in spindly text.
 

“Here it is.” He slid the drawer open. “The monks kept these fragments secret from the researchers because some of them were rightly suspicious of the interest taken in their precious documents. After all, they had looked after them successfully for over a thousand years and then these westerners came suggesting that the fragments needed to be removed for safekeeping.”
 

Morgan bent to the case, inspecting the fragments closely. She was aware of how close she was to Khal and she could feel the warmth of his skin as the hairs on their arms almost touched. She refocused on the text.
 

“It seems that this fragment was found inside the binding of an eighteenth century book last year,” she said, “so it escaped the pillaging of the codex.”

Khal smiled. “The monks used the skin in the rebinding of other books, whether to further hide the fragments or just for reuse, no one knows. But certainly there are still pieces missing. In fact, the entire book of Exodus was missing until this fragment came to light, and since then more have been found. You can see where the text has been altered,”

Morgan bent close to the fragment.
 

“What’s it made of?” she asked.
 

 
Khal’s voice assumed a professorial tone, it was hypnotizing to listen to and she could imagine the adoration of his female students back in his Cairo classroom.
 

“The Codex was written on prepared animal skin,” he said, “made with matching pages from the flesh and hair sides, with flesh sides on the outside of every quire of eight leaves. The pages are easy to tell apart, as the hair pages are darker and absorb ink much better than the flesh side, which is sometimes quite flakey. This design helped with the reconstruction and we also have later texts which enabled the jigsaw puzzle to be put back together.”

Morgan nodded. “So we should check the translations of the Exodus verses against the corrected fragments and see whether there are any discrepancies.”

She pulled down a couple of Bibles from nearby shelves and they turned their attention to the verses from Exodus, reading through the texts and comparing them to later versions. After a moment, Morgan whispered, “To be honest, my Ancient Greek isn’t all that hot anymore.”

Khal looked up at her, one dark eyebrow raised. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
 

Morgan colored slightly at the suggestion in his eyes. At least she hadn’t been imagining the growing attraction between them, but now wasn’t the time.
 

With heads down again, they studied the Exodus verses concerning the Ark. Minutes passed in silence, as both jotted down notes and Morgan found herself happily sinking into the rhythm of research, that rabbit hole of wonder and delight. She had always loved this discovery of ancient knowledge, for there was so much she didn’t know, so many things she wanted to learn. This was part of her attraction to ARKANE, their database of knowledge gleaned from mysterious sources around the world and she constantly wanted to plunge into their ocean of ideas.
 

It was in the deep concentration that came with research that synchronicity would happen, when seemingly unrelated things would crash into each other and hidden meanings emerge. That moment was heady with power, like the release of an energy waiting just beyond consciousness for the point at which we surrender. Morgan surrendered now, waiting for that spark.
   

After a time, Khal broke the silence.
 

“There’s nothing here that’s any different to the translations we know of already, nothing new to suggest where the Ark may be. At least not in these fragments of Exodus.”

His words made Morgan wonder aloud. “What about other books that speak of the Ark, not just the official biblical ones?”

Khal frowned in concentration. “The Codex includes books from the Apocrypha, those not in the official Christian Bible, but still considered important for early church history.”
 

Morgan looked at him. “What about Maccabees?”
 

“Yes, I believe some books of the Maccabees are in the text. Why?”

“II Maccabees talks about the prophet Jeremiah and where he hid the Ark, so perhaps there’s something there.”
 

Khal flicked through the index.
 

“II Maccabees is missing in the official records, but Abasi must have been here looking for something specific. He had access to the scanned images of the whole text available online, so there must have been something here that gave him further interest. Give me a minute.”

Khal walked back down the library to the computer in the records area. Morgan watched him stride away, his frame transforming from academic to desert wanderer as he walked. In just a few minutes, he returned, holding a ledger.
 

“This contains records of who has been using the library. Abasi was here six weeks ago and he returned with barely contained excitement, but I was off on a dig at the time. I never got the chance to find out what he wanted to tell me about. Perhaps the clue is here.” His finger traced down the page. “It says he was looking at a first edition of Homer, dating from the fifteenth century. That’s curious, as it’s not at all related to our area of research.”

“It’s worth checking out though,” Morgan replied. “Where is it?”
 

Khal pointed down one of the aisles. “The fifth display case over there.”
 

Morgan pulled on a pair of cotton gloves and went to the case. Gently she removed the text and in touching the book, she felt a thrill of discovery, for she would have loved to stay and drink in the words on these pages, this other world of ancient Greece. She opened the cover and carefully turned the pages.
 

“There, what’s that?” As he spoke, Khal reached out and took her hand. His fingers felt hot on her skin and Morgan registered that he held her for just a second too long. “It looks like a manuscript fragment.”
 

Morgan teased the fragment delicately from the pages of the book and laid it on the glass case.
 

“It looks just like the other Codex fragments, but what is it doing in here?” she said.
 

“Maybe Abasi hid it here. There must be something important in it. Let’s try comparing the texts again.”

Khal held open the Septuagint translation of the Bible, which contained the Apocryphal books including II Maccabees. He found the specific verse and took it over to where Morgan had laid out the glass panel with the fragment. He set the book down gently. Together they worked on the passage, noting potential translation issues with the words. Morgan moved her head back and forth between the texts, trying to see the difference. Then she saw it.
 

“It’s the mountain,” she said.
 

Khal straightened and rubbed his neck. “What do you mean?”
 

Morgan spoke in a whisper, aware that what they had found was potentially explosive.

“Look. In the Septuagint translation that everyone uses, it says that Jeremiah
went away to the mountain
from the top of which
Moses saw God’s Promised Land. When he reached the mountain, Jeremiah found a cave dwelling; he carried the tent, the ark, and the incense altar into it, then blocked up the entrance. So this suggests that it was on the mountain where Moses saw the promised land.”
 

Khal nodded. “It’s known as Mount Nebo in Jordan, but it has been searched from top to bottom. American fundamentalists have even used ground penetrating radar to try to find it and the Ark’s not there.”
 

“But look at this difference.” Morgan pointed to the page. “The fragment actually says that
Jeremiah
went away to the mountain from the top of which
he could see where
Moses saw God’s Promised Land. Which means he could see Mount Nebo from where he stood, but he wasn’t actually on Mount Nebo.”

Khal looked stunned. “So the later version has been changed, and just that one phrase changes the geographic possibilities entirely.”
 

Morgan nodded.
 

“I’ll get this back to Martin at ARKANE,” she said, “and have him work on alternative locations, but we need to head to Jordan. If we start driving now, we can make it by lunchtime tomorrow.”

Khal turned to return the book to the case as Morgan started to walk back down the library corridor. Two monks stepped out from behind one of the large bookcases. With their habits touching the floor and cowls pulled over their faces, it was as if they glided into place in the middle of the corridor. They stood silently, blocking Morgan’s path. She tensed, feeling a threat, but she was also puzzled, since they were in such a holy place and a threat seemed incongruous.
 

“Good morning, brothers,” she said, first in Arabic and then in English. There was no response. Khal tried to justify their presence.
 

“The Abbot has allowed us this access to examine papers in this case,” he said. “And we are just leaving.”
 

The two men stepped forward, but Morgan still couldn’t see their faces. She felt an adrenalin rush and welcomed it, for her Krav Maga skills had been useful for the ARKANE missions so far. She didn’t know how Khal would react to violence here, but she could see no choice. Of course, the best defense would be to run, but that didn’t seem to be an option, so offense was the next best thing.
 

She yelled at them, the roar of a lioness readying for battle erupting from her throat. It should have brought others running but it only triggered the men into action. They rushed forward, one at Morgan and the other at Khal. Morgan saw the flash of a blade as the monk attacked and she held her ground until the last moment, feeling behind her for one of the heavy books.
 

As he swung his arm, she pulled the book in front of her. The knife thudded into the Greek Bible as she sidestepped and used his momentum to carry him further forward, smashing the heel of her palm into the monk’s face as he passed. There was a satisfying crunch as she connected with his nose, his hood flew back and blood dripped down his face. He shook his head to clear his vision as out of the corner of her eye Morgan saw Khal on the floor, using his legs to try and kick the other monk away. She knew that the assassin was toying with his prey for the academic was no match for a trained fighter.
 

Morgan launched herself at her attacker, striking his ear with a hammer fist, following through with an elbow to his chin. The man spun round and crashed to the floor. The other monk saw what was happening and left Khal to run towards her, feinting with his knife. As he lunged, Morgan turned to one side, grabbing his wrists and pulling him forward and down. She jerked her knee up and it connected with his face, then she used all of her body weight to bring an elbow down on the back of his neck. He fell heavily, unconscious.
 

The first man was groaning so she turned and booted him in the head. It was as if the rage she had been bottling up over Jake had exploded, and now these men would pay the price. She felt the throbbing in her side intensify, but the pain only helped her focus, and she soared on the edge of oblivion. Her surroundings faded away and she only saw only a manifestation of hatred and danger as she kicked at the prone bodies. She would make sure these men didn’t get up again.
 

“Morgan!” Khal’s voice pierced the haze. “Morgan, I think they’re done.”

She turned, hands raised in Krav Maga open stance, ready to strike again. He saw the violence in her eyes and backed off.