The Quest: A Novel (33 page)

Purcell replied, “We knew at some point, but there was a lot going on. He was dying.”

Gann suggested, “Try to recall all that this man said. He may have given you a clue.”

Purcell and Mercado thought about that, then Purcell suggested, “Let’s back it up. The priest said his battalion had made camp on the eastern shore of Lake Tana.” He pointed to the lake. “His patrol went out to find the place where the Gallas had ambushed the previous patrol. They found the ambush site… maybe the same day… then continued on to find the black walls and tower that the sergeant, Giovanni, said he’d seen on the previous patrol.”

Mercado added, “The priest said this took several more days… Three? Four? And they were lost, so they could have wandered in circles.”

Gann said, “I can tell you that you’d be good to make a kilometer an hour in this terrain. So if we assume a ten-hour-a-day march, from somewhere along this eastern bank of Lake Tana, we can reckon thirty kilometers in three days, perhaps, less if this patrol was moving cautiously, which I’m certain they did.”

Gann took a notebook from his pocket and a pen, which caused the monk to say, “No!”

Gann said to Mercado, “Tell him I’m not going to mark his map.”

Mercado spoke to the monk, and Gann measured the kilometers from the map legend on a piece of notepaper that he marked with his pen, then held the paper against the map and said, “This is ten K. But to find the ambush site, we would need to know where this man’s battalion made camp along the lakeshore—which as you can see is about eighty kilometers long—then draw a ten-K radius from there, and somewhere along that radius would be the ambush site. But we don’t know where on the lakeshore to start.”

Mercado said, “And then they wandered around for several more days to find the black wall and tower—the monastery.” Mercado said, “We’ve narrowed it down a bit, but that is still a lot of square kilometers of jungle to be walking through.”

Gann said, “That is why aerial recon would be helpful.”

They studied the terrain map and recomputed their numbers,
based on different points along the shore of Lake Tana and different traveling times through the terrain, as well as trying to guess what Father Armano meant by “several days” from the ambush site to the black monastery. They then approached the problem the other way—from the fixed location of the fortress to the monastery, though Father Armano never said how long his march was from the monastery to the fortress. And what they thought was the fortress could be something else, though “
incognita
” was about five kilometers east of the spa—a night’s march.

Mercado and Purcell tried to recall if Father Armano had said anything else that could be a clue, and Purcell pointed out to Mercado that the priest had spoken Italian and that Mercado and Vivian had translated, so Purcell may not have gotten the entire story, or gotten an accurate translation.

Mercado said, “Perhaps Vivian will recall some further details.”

Purcell said to Gann, “This man did say something about a rock, a stream, and a tree.”

“No rocks on this map, I’m afraid, and I’m not sure which of the million trees he was referring to, but here is a small, intermittent stream… and another here, and a larger one here, all flowing downhill to Lake Tana.” He suggested, “Remember this when you are on the ground. But it’s of no help here.”

Purcell asked, “Where is this Falasha village?”

Gann replied, “Not on this map…” He pulled another map toward him and said, “Here, on the south adjoining map… the village of Shoan.” He put the maps together and said, “About forty K west and south of the suspected fortress.”

Purcell reminded Gann, “They might know the location of the monastery.”

Gann replied, “They know where they meet the monks. But they’re not going to take us along for company.”

They again looked at the maps, trying to transfer what little they knew to what was spread out in front of them.

Gann pointed out, “The Italian aerial cartographers saw this unknown structure, and noted it, but they apparently didn’t see what we are looking for or they’d have noted that as well.”

Mercado informed him, “Our friend said it was in a deep jungle valley, with trees that went right up to the walls.”

“I see… Well, it could have been missed from the air.”

Purcell added, “He said the area within the walls had trees, gardens, and I think a pond.”

Gann nodded. “This whole area was photographed and transferred to a map, and the thing we are looking for was on one of those photographs, but the cartographers missed it when they made these maps.” He further informed them, “Most aerial photography was done in black and white, so things—man-made and natural—are missed in black, white, and shades of gray that would be more apparent in color.” He added, “What we’re seeing here is what the cartographer thought he saw in black-and-white photographs, and there was little field checking. We can also assume the cartographers were a bit sloppy and perhaps overworked and under pressure to get these military maps to Il Duce’s army.”

Purcell said, “Maybe we’ll have better luck when we fly over this area ourselves.”

Gann agreed, but advised, “Don’t do too much flying, old boy, or you’ll attract attention.” He asked, “Do I understand that you have an aircraft and pilot?”

Purcell replied, “We’re working on that.” He confessed, “I’m the pilot.”

“I see. Well, good luck.”

“I thought you were coming with us.”

“I will try my best.”

Purcell said to Gann, “We are going to do this, Colonel. And we will find what we are looking for.”

“I believe you will.” He added, “That may be the easy part.”

Henry stood and moved to the antique maps, and Purcell said, “Henry, you will not find what we’re looking for there.”

Gann agreed. “Those maps are more fantasy than accurate representations of reality, old boy. Dragons and all that.”

Mercado ignored them and unrolled a few parchments on which were hand-colored maps of sorts, showing lakes, mountains, and hand-drawn churches. Mercado said, “This is written in Geez.”

No one replied.

He said, “I think this one is showing Axum. I see a crown, and here is a drawing of what looks like the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments.”

Purcell said, “Well, that proves it.”

“And here, to the southeast of this lake that looks like Tana… with the Blue Nile… is a drawing…” He slid the map toward them and they saw a nice drawing of a golden cup, next to which was a black cross, surrounded by well-drawn palm trees that Gann said would be about a half kilometer tall if they were drawn to scale.

Purcell said, “We should have started with this map, Henry.”

Gann suggested, “Offer this monk fellow ten pounds for it.”

Mercado was not enjoying the jokes, and he said, “Well, this may not be very detailed or accurate, but it is significant that it shows… or possibly shows what we are looking for.” He added, “Cross and cup. Monastery and Grail.”

“We get it.”

Gann said, “But it does show it southeast of Lake Tana… so that may actually be a clue on a real map, and on the ground.”

The monk said something in Italian, and Mercado said, “Our hour is fini.”

T
hey found Vivian sitting on a bench outside the Ethiopian College, and she informed them, “I was asked to leave the reading room.”

Mercado seemed surprised. “Why?”

“No explanation except that the archive materials had been out too long, and the reading room was needed by others.”

Purcell said to Mercado, “You have been abusing your library privileges, Henry.”

“This is not funny.”

Purcell pointed out, “You said we were done.”

“We were, but…” He looked at Vivian. “Where is my notebook?”

“In my bag.” She gave it to him.

Purcell said to Mercado, “If I were paranoid, I’d say you should not leave that notebook in your office.”

Mercado nodded.

It was late afternoon, the sky was overcast, and Henry said he had a bottle of Strega in his office to lift their spirits.

On the way, Vivian asked, “How did you make out?”

Mercado replied, “We’ve narrowed it down.”

Gann asked Mercado, “Is it possible to get back in there?”

“Another request is one too many.”

Gann suggested, “If you contact the Ministry of War, they will have a complete set of army survey maps of Ethiopia.” He also informed them, “If you know Father Armano’s military unit, you should ask to see his unit logs to see where his battalion made camp on the shore of Lake Tana.”

Mercado thought about that, then replied, “I will inquire about the maps. But we don’t know Father Armano’s army unit, and the War Ministry doesn’t know Father Armano.”

Vivian said, “Someone in Berini may have letters from him with a return military address.”

“Good thinking,” said Mercado.

Gann said, “There is a possibility, however, that these unit logs never made it back to Italy.”

Purcell pointed out, “Even if they did, the Ministry of War’s archives may not be open to us—or what we’re looking for may no longer be there.”

No one responded to that.

They continued their walk across the parkland of Vatican City. Purcell looked at Saint Peter’s, rarely seen from the rear, and he realized it was much bigger than it appeared from its well-known façade. The basilica and the square with its encompassing colonnades was the public face of the Vatican. But there was more to this place. There were offices and archives, and there were people whose job it was to manage the money, to support charities, to stamp out heresy, to propagate the faith, and to put out the word of God and the word of the pope and the Sacred College of Cardinals—as Henry did at
L’Osservatore Romano
.

Purcell didn’t think there were any great conspiracies being hatched behind the closed doors of all those offices—but he did think there was two thousand years of institutional memory that defined the Vatican and the papacy; there was an unspoken and unwritten understanding regarding what needed to be done.

Most times, he suspected, everyone was on the same page—the clergy, the hierarchy, and the bureaucracy who toiled here. But now and then there were quiet differences of opinion. And maybe that was what he was seeing now—assuming, of course, that the people here were on the same quest that he and his three companions were on.

Gann was saying, “If we can’t get access to the military maps here, I know that the Italian Library in Addis has a collection of wartime maps.” He added, “Problem is, the Provisional Revolutionary government may have confiscated all the maps as a security measure, or to issue to their fighting units in the field.”

Purcell interjected, “One of the first places we need to find is the village of Shoan.” He asked Gann, “Do you know how to get there?”

“I have been there.” He continued before anyone could ask him
about that. “As I said, finding the monastery may not be as difficult as we think, given what we know. The problem, as with any military objective, is to get inside the place, get what we want, then get out.”

Purcell liked the way Gann thought. Military minds were generally clear, and geared to practical matters and problem solving. Lives depended on it. Vivian and Henry, on the other hand, were focused on the righteousness of their mission, with only passing thoughts about the logistics and the battle plan—like medieval Crusaders off to free the Holy Land. But, he supposed, the world needed those people too.

As for himself, he’d had enough of maps, archives, and religious experiences. He was ready to move.

They reached Mercado’s office, and Henry produced the bottle of Strega, which he shared with his guests to warm them up. Regarding their trip to Sicily, he consulted his calendar and said, “The Italians have the most vacation days in Europe. Forty-two, I believe. The fourteenth looks good for me.” He asked, “Is that good for everyone?”

Purcell and Vivian said it was, and Mercado asked Gann, “Are you sure you don’t want to go to sunny Sicily?”

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

Mercado said, “I won’t use the Vatican travel office, and I suggest we all use different travel agencies to book a flight to Palermo. We’ll hire a car there and drive to Berini.”

Purcell and Vivian agreed, and Henry poured more of the yellow liqueur into their water glasses.

Purcell said, “While we’re making travel plans, I suggest we pick a date now to fly to Addis Ababa.”

No one responded, and Purcell said, “As Colonel Gann would agree, we need to stop planning the invasion and we need to have a jump-off date.”

Gann said, “I’m actually fixed to go on January twenty-fourth—or thereabouts.”

“Good.” Purcell suggested, “The L’Osservatore Romano team needs to go separately, in case there is a problem at the other end. I will go first—let’s say January eighteenth. If I telex all is well, Vivian will follow on January twentieth—”

“We’re going together, Frank.”

He ignored her and continued, “If you don’t hear from me, take that as a sign that I may be indisposed.” He said to Mercado, “You may have the most risk considering your prior conviction for consorting with an enemy of the Ethiopian people. But if I and Vivian are okay, you bring up the rear.”