The Quest: A Novel (23 page)

“Good idea. Let’s go.”

“We need to start at the beginning.” Mercado slid a large English-language Bible toward him and thumbed through the pages. “Here—Matthew, at the Last Supper.” He read, “And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, ‘Drink ye all of it; For this is my blood of the new testament for the remission of sins.’ ”

Mercado looked at Purcell and said, “Mark and Luke make similar brief references to what has become the central sacrament of Christianity—the Holy Communion, the transubstantiation of the bread into the body of Christ, and the wine into his blood.” He added, “But John does not mention this at all.”

Purcell had had similar reporting lapses—missing or downplaying something that later turned out to be very important. “John may have been out of the room.”

Mercado responded, “The fact that the gospels differ actually
give them credibility. These are men recording from memory what they saw and experienced, and the differences show they were not colluding to make up a story.”

“That’s what I tell my editors.”

Mercado continued, “Notice that the cup—the Grail—has no special significance in the telling of this story of the Last Supper. But later, in myth and legend, the cup grows large.”

“It gets magical.”

“Indeed it does. As does the lance of the Roman soldier Longinus, and the robe of Christ, and the thirty pieces of silver that Judas took to betray Christ, and everything else that has to do with the death of Jesus Christ.”

Purcell observed, “You’re making a good case for why Christ’s cup at the Last Supper is just a cup.”

“Perhaps… but of all the artifacts associated with the New Testament, the cup—the Grail—has persisted for two thousand years as a thing of special significance.” He continued, “And I think one of the reasons is that the chalice is used in the sacrament of Holy Communion. The priest literally—or figuratively—turns the wine into the blood of Christ, and that miracle—or mystery—has taken hold in every Christian who ever went to church on Sunday.”

“I guess… I never thought much about it.”

“Then you should be taking notes, Mr. Purcell. You have a story to write.”

“More importantly, we have a Grail that needs to be found.”

“We are finding it—first in our heads, then in our hearts.” He reminded Purcell, “This is a spiritual journey before it becomes a physical journey.”

Purcell picked up his pen and said, “I will make a note of that.”

Mercado continued, “The chalices used by priests and ministers are often very elaborate. Gold and precious stones. But the cup used by Christ was a simple kiddush cup—probably a bronze goblet used at the Passover. So the kiddush cup, like the story itself, has been embellished over the years, and now looks very different at the altar. It gleams. But that is not what we are looking for. We are looking
for a two-thousand-year-old bronze cup—something that would have disappointed many of those who have searched for it, if they’d found it.”

Purcell nodded, trying to recall what, if anything, Father Armano had said about the cup that he claimed he saw.

Mercado went on, “But there is an essential truth to this story—Jesus saying, in effect, ‘I have turned this wine into my blood for the remission of your sins.’ ”

“But that has more to do with Jesus than it has to do with the wine or the cup.”

“You make a good point.”

“Also,” Purcell pointed out, “there is a lot of allegory and symbolism in the Old and New Testaments.”

“That is where some Christians, Jews, atheists, and agnostics disagree.”

“Right.”

“You either believe or you don’t believe. Evidence is in short supply. Miracles happen, but not often, and not without other explanations.”

“We should have mentioned that to Father Armano.”

“I completely understand your skepticism, Frank. I have some of my own.”

That wasn’t what he’d said on previous occasions, but Purcell left it alone.

Mercado had his Bible open again, and he said, “We move on from the Last Supper, and through the crucifixion, and we come to Joseph of Arimathea, who plays a central role in subsequent Grail legends.” He looked at the open Bible. “From Mark 15:42–47.” Mercado read, “And now when the even was come, because it was the preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, an honorable counselor, who also waited for the kingdom of God, came, and went in boldly unto Pilate, and craved the body of Jesus. And Pilate marveled if he were already dead: and calling unto him the centurion, he asked him whether he had been any while dead. And when he knew it of the centurion, he gave the body to Joseph. And he bought fine linen, and took him down, and wrapped him in
the linen, and laid him in a sepulcher which was hewn out of a rock, and rolled a stone unto the door of the sepulcher.”

Mercado looked up from the Bible and said, “This is the last we hear of Joseph of Arimathea in the New Testament, but not the last we hear of him from other sources.”

“Are these sources credible, Henry?”

Mercado pulled a notebook toward him and said, “I’ve read several accounts of the journey of the Holy Grail. You can call them legends or myths, or quasi-historical accounts. I’ve had access here to some primary source material, written on parchment and papyrus”—he motioned toward the green felt folders—“and the earliest date I was able to determine is from a papyrus, written in classical Greek, about forty or fifty years after the death of Christ.” He informed Purcell, “I’ve written a summation of all these stories, based on the parts that seem to agree.”

Purcell agreed with Mercado that it would be useful to get some backstory, but he was here mostly to… well, to humor Henry. To bond with him. Or maybe he was here in the musty Vatican Library, on what turned out to be a gloriously sunny morning, because he felt guilty that he’d taken Vivian from Henry. That was it. This was atonement. Punishment, actually. And he deserved it.

Henry was looking at his notebook and said, “Here’s what I’ve written, combining most of what I’ve read. It begins as a continuation of the New Testament account of the crucifixion.” He began, “And Joseph of Arimathea, believing in Christ, wished to possess something belonging to him. He therefore carried off the chalice of the Last Supper—”

“Was he there to clean up?”

Mercado ignored the interruption and continued, “And having begged Pilate for the Lord’s body, Joseph used the chalice to collect the blood flowing from Jesus’s wounds. And it came to pass that Joseph of Arimathea was imprisoned for his good deed by Pilate, at the urging of the same angry crowd that had demanded Christ’s death. And Joseph lay forty years in a hidden dungeon, but he was sustained by the Holy Grail, which was still in his possession.”

Mercado stopped reading and looked at Purcell.

Purcell nodded. Indeed, this ancient tale had a little of Father Armano’s story in it. And Father Armano probably knew the story.

Mercado continued, “And in the fortieth year of Joseph’s imprisonment, the Roman emperor, Vespasian, was cured of his leprosy by the veil of Saint Veronica, and believing now in Christ, the emperor took himself to Jerusalem to avenge the death of Christ, but all who had been responsible for his death were now themselves dead. But through a vision, Vespasian learned that Joseph, who was believed dead, was still imprisoned in the hidden dungeon. Vespasian had himself lowered into the dungeon and freed Joseph. The emperor Vespasian and Joseph of Arimathea were then baptized together by Saint Clement.”

Mercado put his notebook aside and said, “There are a number of historical inaccuracies—or stretches—in that story. But the story has persisted for two thousand years, and is believed by millions of Catholics and others.”

“And what does the Church of Rome think?”

“The Church of Rome neither confirms nor denies. The Church of Rome likes these stories, but understands, intellectually, that they are a stretch. But stories like this are good press, and they circulate among the faithful and reinforce their beliefs.”

“That’s what good propaganda does.”

“So we’ve heard that Joseph took Christ’s cup after the Passover meal, and we’ve heard that Joseph had it with him in the dungeon, and that the Grail sustained him for forty years.”

Purcell made a note to show he was listening.

Mercado flipped a page in his notebook and read, “Joseph journeyed with a flock of new Christians through the Holy Land and in time came into Sarras in Egypt. In Sarras, Joseph was instructed by the Lord to set out a table in memory of Christ’s Last Supper, and the sacrament of Communion was performed with the Grail for the new converts. After a time, Joseph was instructed by the Lord to journey to Britain, and there the Grail was kept in the Grail Castle, which was located, some say, near Glastonbury. The Grail was kept there by a succession of Grail Keepers, who were all descendants of Joseph of Arimathea, and after four hundred years, the last in the line of the Grail Keepers of the castle lay sick and dying.”

Mercado stopped reading and said, “So now we have the Grail in Britain, which also seems a stretch, but Britain was a Roman province, part of Joseph’s Roman world, so this is possible.”

“Henry, I don’t mean to be cynical, but this whole thing is a stretch.”

“If you had read all that I have read here—”

“You started with a belief, and you cherry-picked your facts and gave credence to unconfirmed sources. The worst kind of reporting.” He added, “You know better than that.” Or maybe, Purcell thought, Henry had been working at
L’Osservatore Romano
too long.

“I’m not the first one to do this scholarship and come up with the same conclusions.”

“There’s a guy now writing books based on his scholarship saying that extraterrestrials visited the earth and built the pyramids.”

Mercado did not reply for a few seconds, then said, “We are all searching for answers to who we are, what our place is in this world and this universe. We hope there is more than we know and see. We hope there is a God.”

“Me too, Henry, but… okay. The Holy Grail is in Glastonbury.”

Mercado referred to his notes and continued, “This brings us to the time when the Roman legions withdrew from Britain. The Roman world is disintegrating and Britain has been invaded by various Germanic tribes. The legendary—or historical—Arthur is king of the Britons and we begin the well-known legend of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.”

Purcell had seen the movie, but he let Henry continue.

Mercado read from his notebook, “The magician Merlin told King Arthur of the presence of the Holy Grail in Britain and bid him form the Round Table of virtuous knights to seek out the Holy Grail. The table was formed, with an empty place to represent Judas, in the tradition of the Last Supper and the table of Joseph of Arimathea. After many adventures and dangers during their quest for the Grail, one of Arthur’s knights, Sir Perceval, who was unknowingly a descendant of Joseph of Arimathea, discovered the Grail Castle and there found the Holy Grail, and also the lance of the Roman soldier, Longinus, that had pierced the side of Christ on the Cross. The lance hung suspended in thin air and dripped blood into the Grail cup.”

Purcell looked at Mercado, who had stopped reading. It must have occurred to Mercado that this was a story known by all, but believed by virtually no one in the modern world. Except maybe Henry Mercado, Father Armano, maybe Vivian, and a few select others. But Purcell understood that even if the legends were untrue, that didn’t mean that the Grail did not exist. The paving stone with Christ’s footprint existed in the physical world, as did the Shroud of Turin and a thousand other religious relics. The Grail, however, was always associated with the power to heal. So if they found the black monastery and the Grail, then they would know if it was real. Especially if there was a lance hanging above it in thin air, dripping blood. He’d believe
that
if he saw it.

Mercado continued, “Sir Perceval was told by the old Grail Keeper of their kinship, and when the Grail Keeper died, Sir Perceval and Sir Gauvain, perceiving that the times had grown evil, knew that the Grail must again be hidden from sinful men. The Lord came to them and told them of a ship anchored nearby the castle, and bid them take the Grail and the Lance back to the Holy Land. The two knights set off in a fog and were never seen or heard from again.”

Mercado closed his notebook.

After a few seconds, Purcell inquired, “Is that it?”

Mercado replied, “No. The Grail, and sometimes the Lance, appear again in other references throughout the Dark Ages, Middle Ages, and into modern times.”

Right, Purcell thought. Like a few months ago.

Mercado asked, “Did you find any of that interesting or useful?”

“Interesting, but not useful.”

“Do you believe any of it?”

“You lost me after Mark.”

“Why even believe in the New Testament?”

“You’re asking questions I can’t answer, Henry.”

“That’s why we’re here. To find answers.”

“The answers are not here. Half of the archives in the great Vatican Library are myths and legends. The answer is in Ethiopia.”

“The answer is in our hearts.”

“Let’s start with Ethiopia.” Purcell reminded him, “And we have less than a fifty-fifty chance of being allowed back there.”

“We are going to Ethiopia.”

“You have our visas?”

“No. But I will.” He looked at Purcell. “You don’t understand, Frank. We—you, me, Vivian, and also Colonel Gann—have been chosen to go back to Ethiopia to find the Holy Grail.”

Purcell didn’t bother to ask who had chosen them.

Mercado agreed it was time for a coffee break, and they walked out into the sunshine.

Purcell easily understood how early humans believed in the sun as God; it acted in mysterious ways, it rose and set in the heavens, and it gave life and light. The religion of the Jews, Christians, and Muslims, however, was more complex. They asked people to believe in things that could not be seen or felt like the sun on his face. They asked for faith. They asked that you believe it because it was impossible.