Date: Wed, 21 Jun 2006 06:38:43 +0100 (BST)
From: Mike Arram <mikearram@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Henry in Finkle Road - 28

XXVIII

The darkness of the tunnel was not so absolute when Henry and Terry
penetrated beyond the entrance.  There was enough light for ferns to
survive, growing out of the damp walls.
  Ten yards in they came to a junction, with tunnels leading off to left
and right.  Above them they could barely make out a brick dome.  At first
all seemed silent, but as Henry listened, he heard a distant rip and crunch
echoing down the walls from the left.  He and Terry moved silently across
the sanded earth floor of the catacomb.
  Another arch loomed above them, and beyond it was a rotunda of some sort,
with a skylight spilling a dim gleam into the space below.  A great
sarcophagus lay immediately under the dome.  The walls were a honeycomb of
slots, or loculi, many occupied by coffins, some of decaying lead, others
covered in perished velvet and studded with brass nails.  One or two were
surmounted with princely coronets of tarnished brass.
  Men were smashing the lower ones and spilling their contents on to the
floor.  Rags of shrouds and corpses in varying states of decomposition were
grotesquely strewn in the dust.  Piotr Bermann, standing beside the
sarcophagus, was directing the monstrous work.  Two of his acolytes were
holding Gavin, Wardrinski and Helge at gunpoint.
  `Stop this blasphemy!' Helge suddenly hissed.
  Bermann coldly replied, `Then tell us what we need to know, woman.  It
will be easier that way.  We will find the relic, you may be sure.'
  `It is not amongst the bones of my family.  You are desecrating them to
no purpose.'
  `Then where is it?  Tell me!'
  Wardrinski cut in.  `Let us go.  This is all nonsense.  You cannot
seriously be expecting to find some magical talisman in this dreadful
place.  I cannot believe that such stubborn superstition exists in a modern
country.'
  Bermann told his men to stop.  `Enough.  I believe she is telling the
truth.  We will try another tack.  Bring the boy over here!'
  Gavin was roughly shoved in front of Bermann.  Henry looked with mingled
surprise and awe at his lover, who stood tall, taller than Henry ever
remembered seeing him.  His gaze was quite unafraid.
  `You, boy!  You know something, I'm sure of it.'
  Gavin replied perfectly calmly, his shyness and hesitancy all gone, `I
know that death awaits the hand that moves against the Ark.  You shall not
touch it and live.'
  His words seemed to disturb the acolytes.  They looked uneasily at their
leader.
  `Nonsense,' Bermann exclaimed.  `Tell me more, boy.  Because you do know
more, don't you.'
  `I do not know where the relic is.  Only Mendamero knows.  Listen.  He is
almost here.'
  Gavin's words made the acolytes even more uneasy, causing them to whisper
one to the other.
  Bermann put his shotgun to Gavin's temple.  `Countess, I will first shoot
this boy, if you do not tell me the place where the Ark may be found.  Then
I will shoot the professor.  Then you will die, and I will take this place
down stone by stone until I find it.  You shall not stop me completing the
work of the Priory and freeing our land from its corruption!'
  Terry prodded Henry gently.  `There are too many of them.  I can only
take out six at most.'
  Henry looked around, and an idea swelled up in his heart.  `Look, Terry,
I have a plan.  Go back to the others.  Get the police from the Modenehem
barracks.  I'm pretty confident I can delay them for a while.'
  Terry hissed, `What have you got in mind?'
  `Just go, before I wet myself and chicken out.  But it will work.  Now
go.'
  Terry hesitated, kissed Henry quickly and left.
  Henry straightened his clothes, and with as much coolness as he could
muster, stepped out into the rotunda.  All spun round to look at him.
  Bermann exclaimed, `Who in God's name ...?'
  Henry raised an eyebrow at him.  `You were expecting me, I think.
Mendamero is here.'
  There was a shocked pause.
  Bermann stared blankly at Henry.  `You are Mendamero?  But you are the
English boy, the friend of the king.  How can you be Mendamero?  He is to
save our land.  He will be Rothenian.'
  `I don't believe St Fenice actually said that Mendamero was going to be a
native Rothenian.  After all, she herself was a Magyar by birth.  The Ark
holds a treasure which belongs to every nation, not just this one.  You
fool.  You really do not know what you are tampering with, do you.  You are
like some silly child, probing in an electric socket with a screwdriver,
just to see what will happen.'
  `Bring him over here.'
  Men closed behind Henry and herded him up next to Gavin, who was smiling
at him with a calm serenity that was quite frightening in the
circumstances.  Had Gavin flipped?  Henry noticed that the acolytes were
reluctant to touch either of them.
  Once out under the dome, Henry realised that the rotunda had three
alcoves the height of a man, in addition to the entrance arch.  The ones
opposite the arch and to its left were blank.  The third, now in front of
him, was curiously carved with letters to form an inscription that reminded
him of a crossword puzzle.

I N H O C M O D O D E I V I R H O C A N T E M O V I T V T V I D E R I T F A
C I E M D E I I N F I D E M E T S P E M V I T A E Æ T E R N A L I S I N C H
R I S T O

Henry stared at it.  Bermann followed his gaze and gave a wicked grin.  `Do
you know what this signifies, Mr Atwood?  No?  It is in Latin, which is not
much taught in English schools now, I believe.'
  Gavin said in his new, clear voice, `It is a warning to the likes of you.
It says, "The man of God should proceed in this manner if he should wish to
see the face of God -- in faith and in hope of eternal life in Christ".'
  Henry was stunned.  He did not know Gavin understood Latin.  Indeed, he
was quite certain Gavin had no Latin at all.
  Bermann was also disconcerted.  `Yes,' he grunted, `that is what it says.
But I think it gives us a key, rather than a warning, because beyond that
arch may lie what we wish to find.  So, Mr Mendamero, perhaps you can tell
us how to proceed.  Or shall I have to shoot your boyfriend first, just to
encourage you?'
  Gavin whispered in Henry's ear, `Remember my dream, Henry: "Mendamero
shall show the way".'
  Henry moved over to the panel, which reached up to his head height.  Each
letter was set into a sort of compartment having a copper hook below it,
all green now with the verdigris of age.  He scanned the puzzle a moment,
and in a flash of inspiration the answer came into his mind.  He took the
hook under the M on the first row of letters and gave it a tug.  It slid
outwards slowly, accompanied by a grinding noise from behind the wall,
deafening in the sudden silence that filled the rotunda.  It ended with a
thud.
  Henry could not keep from chuckling.  So this was MENDAMERO -- not a man,
but the key to a puzzle.  He pulled out the E on the second row with the
same result as for the M.  Perhaps had he pulled out the wrong letter,
things would have been different, maybe even catastrophic.
  He carried on slowly, pulling out each letter in turn.  It was only the
seventh row which caused him problems, because it gave him a choice of E's.
He thought for a long time before opting for the first.  The second was
part of a diphthong.  The clunk and grind behind the wall confirmed his
choice.  Eventually he had completed all but the last letter, taking it as
slowly as he could.

  By now Bermann had seen the way the riddle was to be solved, and reached
forward to pull out the O himself.
  Henry tried to stall him.  `Wait!  Have you any real idea what lies
behind that wall?  Do you truly suppose the relic will allow itself to be
approached?  You know the prophecy as well as I do.'
  `Fool!' snarled Bermann.  `We and we alone are the righteous ones who may
approach the relic.  It was being kept for us.  Don't you see?'  He moved
forward eagerly and wrenched out the final letter.  This time a titanic
crash boomed out from the wall, a sound that set their ears ringing.
  The rear of the alcove retreated slowly before them as old machinery
began to function.  At a certain point the wall halted, pulled the letters
back into their compartments and opened like a door.  The entrance had
reset itself, ready to close again upon its treasure.
  Everyone, even Wardrinski, leaned forward to see what was revealed.  Only
blackness met their eyes.
  One of the acolytes came forward with an electric lamp.  He clicked it
on, but nothing happened.  He shook it, to no avail.  It was dead.
  The acolyte looked at Bermann, clearly bewildered.  `It was working just
five minutes ago.'
  Bermann too was troubled.  He gestured with his gun.  `You four, go
forward.  If there are traps, it's only right that the Levite and her
friends should run the risk first.'
  Henry was prodded to Helge's side.  `Do you know what's in there?'
  `No Henry,' she replied.  `It has not been necessary for a Levite to open
the wall for over a century.  My aunt and predecessor mentioned no traps or
devices, however, just that if the time ever came for me to enter, I should
do so prayerfully and with preparation.'
  So Henry said a prayer as he was shoved forward with the others.
  Once past the door, they found themselves in a dark passage.  There was a
strange metallic tang in the air, perhaps created by the grinding of the
old machinery.  The passage was not absolutely dark, however.  A dim light
grew in front of them as their eyes adjusted to the gloom.
  Gavin whispered, `Let me go forward first.  I am in less danger from this
thing than any of you.'
  `How do you know, baby?'
  `I just know.'  Henry felt a kiss on his cheek.  Gavin began moving
forward, supporting himself by a hand on the wall.  The passage went on a
long way, and from the feel of the living rock under his fingers, Henry
knew it was burrowing under the hill behind the church.
  Eventually they came out into an open space.  It was lit by sunlight
streaming down through a shaft in the roof, which almost blinded them.
  Henry glanced back.  Only Bermann and two of the acolytes had followed
them.  The others had either refused to pass the arch or been ordered not
to.  Judging by his own emotional state, Henry rather thought it was the
first option.  The feeling of being in the presence of something deeply
forbidding had been growing on him with every step he took.
  Looking around him, Henry realised the seven of them were standing in an
artificial sandstone cavern.  It was featureless except for a square panel
above the opposite entrance, which warned starkly: NOLI TANGERE CHRISTVS
DOMINI.  Gavin gestured at the words.  `"Touch not the Lord's Anointed!"
This may be your last such warning!'
  A reluctance to move on gripped Henry's heart.  He was not alone in
knowing that the warning boded no good to any of them.  Bermann too was
struggling with some inner turmoil.  But he was resolute, if nothing else.
Taking Gavin by the arm, he forced the boy forward in front of him like a
shield.  Then he pointed to Henry.  `Bring that one along after me.  Keep
the rest of them here.'
  Henry was seized and pushed ahead of an acolyte.  The new passage
stretched dimly ahead of them, although Henry was quite sure that what
light there was came from no natural source.  As the earth floor gave way
to flagstones, yet another arch appeared.  Dim light radiated from within
it, and a number of objects could be seen bulking beyond.  The inner
chamber walls were wood-panelled, which did not surprise Henry in the
least.
  At this point, Henry's feet began to feel leaden.  It was as if he were
suddenly on a steep slope.  Every step became a real effort to make.  The
two Rothenians seemed also to be having trouble.  Only Gavin appeared to be
unaffected.  However, it was not so much the physical effort that was the
problem, it was more the distinct unwillingness of Henry's mind to push his
body onward.  Images kept appearing to him: petty and silly grudges he had
kept up over the years, harsh words he had spoken deliberately,
uncharitable thoughts he had entertained.  His entire unworthiness was
being demonstrated to him by a force that understood him all too well.  He
knew that it did not hold him in contempt for what he had said and done,
but he also knew that at the end of the passage he would come face to face
with a presence he was not worthy to encounter.  He sank to his knees,
tears streaming from his eyes, and hung his head.
  Gavin reached down and stroked his hair.  Henry looked up at the boy in
wonder.  Gavin's eyes held such love for him that he was both humbled and
exalted by the sight.  With that the oppression eased, and he could at
least think again.
  Bermann too had mastered himself, though at the cost of an effort that
had brought beads of sweat to his forehead.  The other Rothenian had
dropped his gun, and was on his knees weeping softly, his face buried in
his hands.
  Bermann clapped his sawn-off shotgun to Henry's head.  `Now, boy.  Get
the thing,' he gasped to Gavin.  `You know what it is and where it is.'
  Giving Bermann an unfathomable look, Gavin sighed as if disappointed in
something.  Then he moved on into the chamber to stop before a great lidded
sarcophagus, the tomb of St Fenice, Henry guessed.  Gavin pulled back the
lid with no apparent effort.  As he did so, the room brightened.  Sparkling
in the growing light were all sorts of glittering and gleaming objects --
other precious relics and treasures, Henry did not doubt.
  Gavin reached in, straightened and held up a large gabled box.  Henry had
no difficulty recognising the reliquary from the illumination.  It appeared
to be fashioned of silver, and was shining in Gavin's hands.  An insistent
hum filled the air, seeming to Henry to be mingled with a distant sound, as
of music.
  What Bermann heard must have been different, for a new look of horror
began to grow in his eyes.  But the man had an iron resolve, as souls must
if they wish to court damnation.  He roughly hauled Henry to his feet
before croaking to Gavin, `Bring it here.  Bring me the Ark!'
  Gavin slowly walked forward, only to stop and remonstrate one last time,
`You may not touch it.  Don't you see the precipice on which you stand?  It
will forgive you.  It will let you go if you just repent of your folly and
turn back.  It's still not too late.'
  Bermann howled with anger.  He released Henry, who slumped to the ground.
`Give me the damned thing!' he bellowed.  He raised the shotgun once more,
but this time pointed it at Gavin.
  The threat to his lover freed Henry's limbs.  Part of him was very scared
because he knew the inevitable cost, but another part knew what he had to
do.  He leaped to grapple with Bermann.  He had the barrel of the shotgun
in his hands and was wrestling for possession.  Bermann glared into his
eyes, a vein ticking in his temple, his face covered in a sheen of sweat.
  An explosion occurred between Henry and Bermann.  Henry smelled the
cordite and even saw the whiff of blue smoke.  For a moment he was
triumphant, feeling no pain, but then his legs buckled and he went down on
his knees, dragging the gun from Bermann's hands.  His stomach was a ragged
red ruin, and he wished he'd not looked down at it.  He slumped to his
side.  Shadows gathered around the edges of his vision.
  Ignoring Henry, Bermann was reaching out to take the Ark from Gavin with
both hands.  Gavin was resignedly offering it to him.  A pulsing flare of
light hid the result, as blackness claimed Henry.
  A cool hand on his forehead recalled him briefly.  A voice was saying,
`Goodbye, Henry my Henry.  Live.  Love.  Enjoy.  You will miss me, but we
will meet again some day, maybe here or maybe in another place.'
  `No,' he whimpered.  `Don't leave me, baby.'
  `You will be healed, Henry.  It was always meant to be this way.'
  Shouts were echoing in the tunnel as Henry fell into darkness.

Henry woke.  He was out in the churchyard under the trees.  The fresh and
warm summer air was round about him.  There were state policemen
everywhere.  A cuffed acolyte was taken past him as he looked up.  Ed
Cornish, Davey Skipper and Terry O'Brien were staring down at him with very
troubled faces.  Henry convulsively reached down to his stomach.  He
looked.  The front of his shirt was little more than bloodstained and
blackened rags, but the smooth and undamaged flesh of his abdomen could be
seen beneath it.
  `Where's Gavin?' he croaked.
  `We don't know, sweet babe,' Terry replied.  `We found you and one of the
acolytes unconscious at the entrance to a large chamber under the hill.
You were lying in a pool of blood.  But whose blood it was I don't know, as
you're quite untouched.'
  `Helge, where's she?'
  `She's talking to the police commandant.  What happened to Bermann?'
  Henry sat up, despite feeling that his head was spinning.  `I don't think
anyone'll be seeing him again, not in this world.'  Then the ache began in
his heart, which knew that neither would he be seeing Gavin.  `Did you see
anything else?'
  Terry shook his head.  `Only a huge stone sarcophagus standing empty in
the middle of a big, panelled room.  Was there more to see?  We passed a
stone door with letters on, and we found the acolytes all huddled together
in an excavated cavern with Helge and Wardrinski.  Bermann's men were very
happy to surrender.  Then we came upon you and the other guy a small
distance further on by the archway into the second chamber.  It had no exit
apart from the way we went in.'
  `This other guy, the Rothenian you found with me.  What sort of state is
he in?'
  `An odd one, babe.  He's in a trance.  His eyes are open but he can't
see, and he doesn't hear anything said to him. either.  He's deep in
shock.'
  `Get me up, please,' Henry asked.  `I need to talk to Helge.'
  Henry struggled over to the countess, who was being saluted by the
commandant as he left.  She looked in his face uneasily.  `Henry, oh Henry!
I need to know exactly what happened in the tomb.  I saw the light and
heard the noises.  Gavin?'
  `He's gone, Helge.  He'll never be back.  The Ark took him, as it took
Bermann, though I think it took Gavin to a very different place.'  As he
spoke those words, the tears began coursing down his cheeks, cutting
channels through the smoke and dirt that had soiled his face.  But through
his tears, he told Helge all he could remember.
  Helge held Henry in her arms, and kissed his forehead.  After a while she
said, `I don't think he's gone, Henry dearest.  He was the foretold
warrior, the pure in heart.  His fate was long fixed.  You know the story
of the Holy Grail, don't you Henry?  It was Gawain who was allowed to
approach the relic rather than his friend Lancelot, who was the greater
champion but was forbidden to go on because of his sins.  Gawain was taken
to join the company of Grail knights, while Lancelot laboured on in the
world in sadness and regret.
  `So maybe it will be with you, but only if you are not strong enough to
take up the gift of life that Gavin gave to you.  Don't grieve for him.  He
now has a new task.  The work of the Levites is done.  Somewhere Gavin must
be making a new fortress for the Ark, until the day of its full revelation
is come.  It may not be long delayed.'
  Henry sighed.  `Then what's left for me?'
  `Live.  Love.  Enjoy,' Helge replied, with a slight smile.  `And you are
loved by so many, Henry.'