‘I would prefer not to use the verb “to steal” in any of its tenses or moods. I believe that what I have done is liberate Euphorion from the custody of those who did not understand what they possessed.’
‘It remains theft, whatever words you choose to describe it.’
‘Do not be so moralistic, Adam. It ill suits you.’
‘We have taken shameful advantage of the hospitality the caloyeri offered us.’ The young man turned to where the Greek lawyer was staring out into the night. ‘I had no knowledge of this, Rallis, I assure you. I did not know what the professor planned.’
The lawyer, his back turned to the Englishmen huddled around the fire, made no comment.
‘And, what of you, Quint? Damn you!’ Adam rounded on his manservant in a sudden burst of fury. ‘Did you not think to ask me whether or not you should be employed as a thief in the night?’
Quint, still wheezing slightly, was indignant.
‘Don’t get your trumpet out of tune. ’Ow was I to guess you didn’t know all about it?’
‘Do not blame poor Quintus, Adam.’ Fields spoke in conciliatory tones. ‘He was just the delivery boy, you know. What you might call an unlikely Hermes, with winged feet and caduceus in hand, who travelled between one part of the monastery and another, bearing a gift.’
‘A fine choice of god with whom to compare him, Professor. As you know as well as I, Hermes was also the patron of thieves and liars.’
Fields shrugged, as if to acknowledge that Adam might have a point but it was now an irrelevant one.
‘The professor asks me to do it so I done it.’ The unlikely Hermes was now eager to defend himself. ‘I thought you was as keen on getting ’old of the bleedin’ book as ’e was. I wasn’t about to say no now, was I?’
‘Apparently not. Although refusing the requests of your superiors is scarcely an act with which you are unfamiliar.’ Adam slapped his hand to the ground in exasperation. He leaned forward and, picking up a burning branch, thrust it further into the fire. Sparks flew upwards into the darkness.
‘We must turn back tomorrow morning and return what we have taken to the hegumen,’ he said decisively.
‘That is out of the question,’ Fields replied with equal firmness. ‘I have not been lowered one morning from a precipitous height with an ancient manuscript strapped beneath my attire, only to return the next day and give it back. What am I to say to the monks? That I had not noticed it was there?’
‘We will admit our crime and make our apologies.’
‘I will not do so. It is ridiculous to suggest that I should.’
‘What is ridiculous is that a gentleman and a scholar of your standing should stoop to such petty theft.’ Adam had rarely, if ever, spoken to his mentor in such a way but he was almost beside himself with anger that Fields should have behaved in so dishonourable a way.
Rallis had walked back to the fire. He sat down once more.
‘I am not certain that any good purpose will be served by going back to Agios Andreas, Adam,’ he said. ‘If the loss of the manuscript has been discovered, they may not wish to see us again. They will fear the theft of further treasures. They will not pull us up in their net.’
‘And if it has not been discovered?’
The lawyer shrugged. ‘Perhaps, for them — what is your English saying? — ignorance is bliss. We can show the manuscript to the bishop in Larissa. Tell him our story and let him be the Solomon who makes a judgement. Whether we should keep it or give it back to the caloyeri.’
‘We shall not be going to Larissa.’ Fields spoke with certainty. ‘Or rather, we shall avoid entering the town. Instead, we shall journey through the mountains to the coast, through the pass at Tempe, and then up the coast towards Salonika.’
‘And why the devil should we do that, sir?’ Adam asked furiously.
‘Ah, Tempe,’ Fields sighed, smiling sweetly as if the young man had not spoken. ‘The place where the peoples of Thessaly once gathered, Adam. For sacrifices, symposia and parties of pleasure. Aelian, you may recall, wrote that sometimes the whole air of the valley was perfumed with incense. I doubt that such aromas will greet us now but there will be much for us to see. And much perhaps for us to discover.’
Adam realised suddenly that it had not been the writings of Thucydides that had held the professor’s attention earlier in the day.
‘You have been reading the Euphorion manuscript as we rode,’ he said.
In reply, the professor held up a small volume which Adam recognised from the hidden library at the monastery. ‘Entirely correct. Here it is. Written some time in the thirteenth century, I believe. But undoubtedly copied from much earlier manuscripts. Who knows? Perhaps the line of transmission goes back another five hundred years. And now we have it — a little volume, bound in black leather by monastic craftsmen in the last century. So small, so simple to hide.’ The professor laughed at the thought of how easy it had proved for him to carry it from the monastery.
‘Your reading of it has suggested this change of plan, I assume.’
Fields ignored Adam’s remark and asked instead, ‘Did you not wonder why that man Creech was asking you about your visit to Koutles in sixty-seven? I assume he did ask you?’
‘Of course I was puzzled by Creech’s interest in that godforsaken spot,’ Adam acknowledged, ‘but what has Koutles to do with the Euphorion manuscript? Is it one of the sites that Euphorion visited?’
‘Fifteen years ago, a French scholar named Heuzey travelled in the hills where you and Quint rode.’ The professor once again took no apparent notice of Adam’s questions. ‘He saw what you no doubt saw — that the region is filled with tumuli. He realised the importance of these burial mounds. He returned to dig in them six years later, with money granted to him by that popinjay emperor who has just lost his throne.’ Fields sniffed contemptuously. ‘One of the few deeds of which Napoléon le Petit can be proud.’
Rallis, who had appeared lost in his own thoughts, suddenly spoke up. ‘Did this Frenchman find anything when he dug in the mounds?’
‘Very little. He abandoned his work because of the fear of malaria.’ The professor’s voice suggested that this was exactly the kind of cowardice to be expected from the French. ‘But he was convinced that there was something there to be found.’
The Greek lawyer nodded as if this merely confirmed what he had already suspected.
‘What was to be found?’ Adam asked. ‘Are you talking of the golden treasure of which the Aldine editor wrote? It truly exists?’
‘Ah, those are questions I shall leave you to ponder yourself.’ Fields stood and stretched. ‘I am growing weary and there may be days of hectic activity ahead of us. I shall unpack my sleeping bag and retire for the night. I recommend that you should do the same. In the morning, you may feel differently. Unless, of course, like Achilles, you choose to remain sulking in your tent.’
As the professor walked towards the tree to which Quint had tethered the mules, Adam exchanged a glance with the Greek lawyer.
‘I trust you understand that this is none of my doing, Rallis. I had no notion that Fields planned to steal the manuscript.’
The Greek made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
‘The deed is done,’ he said. He pointed out into the night. ‘Let us walk for a while. Away from the fire. It will be easier to talk.’
The two men stood. Adam glared at Quint, still crouched by the flames, who stared defiantly back. For a moment, it seemed as if the young man might speak again to his manservant but he turned on his heel and strode into the darkness. Rallis followed him. When he had gone a hundred yards from the campfire, Adam stopped and allowed the Greek to draw level with him. In the moonlight, each of them waited for the other to speak.