Thorvaldsen had to admit that the geographic coincidences were intriguing. He removed his rimless glasses and fingered the bridge of his nose, massaging the pinched groove, trying to think.
“And there are more topographical correlations. In 2 Samuel 24:6, the town of Dan was close to a land called Tahtim. No place known as Tahtim survives anywhere in Palestine. But in west Arabia, the village of al-Danadinah stands near a coastal ridge called Jabal Tahyatayn, which is an Arabic form of Tahtim. That cannot be an accident. Haddad wrote that if archaeologists dug in this area, there would be evidence to support the presence of an ancient Jewish settlement. But that has never occurred. The Saudis absolutely forbid digging. In fact, five years ago, when faced with a possible threat from Haddad’s academic conclusions, the Saudis destroyed villages in this area, contaminating the sites, making it nearly impossible for any definitive archaeological evidence ever to be found.”
Thorvaldsen noticed that as the Assembly grew more attentive, Hermann became more confident.
“There’s more. Throughout the Old Testament, Jordan is noted by the Hebrew yarden. But nowhere is that term ever described as a river. The word actually means ”to descend, a fall in the land.“ Yet translation after translation describes the Jordan as a river, its crossing a momentous event. The Palestinian Jordan River is no great waterway. The inhabitants of both banks have waded across it for centuries. But here”-he pointed to mountains that cut across the map-“is the great West Arabian Escarpment. Impossible to cross except where the ranges fold, and even there it’s difficult. Every instance where the Old Testament speaks of Jordan, the geography and the story match what’s on the ground here, in Arabia.”
“The Jordan is a mountain range?”
“No other translation from the Old Hebrew makes any sense.”
He studied the faces staring back at him and said, “Place-names are handed down as sacred tradition. Old names survive in folk memory and usually reassert themselves. Haddad found that particularly true in Asir.”
“Have there not been discoveries that link Palestine with the Bible?”
“There have been discoveries. But none of the inscriptions unearthed so far proves anything. The Moabite Stele found in 1868 speaks of wars fought between Moab and Israel, as mentioned in Kings. Another artifact found in the Jordan Valley in 1993 says the same. But neither say that Israel was located in Palestine. Assyrian and Babylonian records tell of conquests in Israel, but none says where that Israel was located. Kings says the armies of Israel, Judah, and Edom marched seven days in waterless desert. But the rift valley of Palestine, which is commonly regarded as that desert, is no more than one day long and contains plenty of water.”
Now Hermann’s words came freely, as if he’d held the truths inside far too long.
“Not one remnant of the first Solomon’s Temple remains. Nothing has ever been found, though Kings says he used great stones, costly stones, hewed stones. Would not a block have survived?”
He came to the point.
“What’s happened is that scholars have allowed their preconceptions to color their interpretations. They wanted Palestine to be the land of the ancient Jews from the Old Testament, so the end governed the means. Reality is far different. Archaeology has indeed proven one thing-that the Palestine of the Old Testament consisted of a people living in hamlets or small towns, mainly scrub farmers, with only fragments of high culture. A rustic society, not the highly astute Israelites of the post-Solomon era. That is a scientific fact.”
“What does the Psalm say?” a member asked. “Truth shall spring out of the earth.”
“What do you want to do?” someone asked.
Hermann clearly appreciated the inquiry. “Regardless of the Saudis’ refusal to allow any archaeological research, Haddad believed there is proof of his theory that still exists. We are presently trying to locate that proof. If his theory can be substantiated-at least enough to call into question the validity of the Old Testament promises-think of the consequences. Not only Israel, but Saudi Arabia, too, would be destabilized. And we’ve all been frustrated by that government’s corruption. Imagine what the radical Muslims there would do. Their most sacred spot is actually the biblical Jewish homeland? This would be similar to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, where all three major religions claim a home. That site has bred chaos for thousands of years. The chaos in west Arabia would be equally incalculable.”
Thorvaldsen had sat silent long enough. He stood. “You can’t believe that these revelations, even if proven, would have such far-reaching effects. What else is there that so interested the Political Committee?”
Hermann stared at him with a contempt that only the two of them understood. The Circle had acted on Cotton Malone, taking his son. Now he’d acted on Hermann. Of course the Blue Chair would never reveal that weakness. Thorvaldsen had wisely played his trump card here, at the Assembly, where Hermann must be careful. But something told him that the Austrian still held one card.
And the smile that curled on the old man’s thin lips caused Thorvaldsen to pause.
“That’s right, Henrik. There is another aspect. One that will bring the Christians into the fight, as well.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
VIENNA
10:50 PM
ALFRED HERMANN CLOSED THE DOOR TO HIS PRIVATE APARTMENT and removed his robe and neck chain. Their combined weight taxed his tired limbs. He laid the garments across his bed, pleased with the Assembly. After three hours, the members had finally begun to understand. The Order’s plan was both grandiose and ingenious. Now he needed to back up his explanation that the proof would be forthcoming.
But he was beginning to grow concerned.
He hadn’t heard from Sabre in far too long.
Anxiety twisted his stomach. An unfamiliar feeling. To regain momentum, he’d accelerated his timetable. This might well be his last grand endeavor as Blue Chair-his tenure was drawing to a close. The Order of the Golden Fleece was about opportunity and success. Many a government had been altered, a few even toppled, so that the collective could thrive. What he’d concocted might well bring a few more to their knees, perhaps even the Americans themselves if he played his hand with skill.
He’d known Thorvaldsen might be a problem, which was why he’d ordered Sabre to prepare a financial dossier. Sitting in the schmetterling haus the day before, watching Sabre dutifully agree to the task, he’d never believed Thorvaldsen would be so aggressive. They’d been long-standing acquaintances. Not necessarily close friends, but certainly compatriots. Somehow, though, the Dane had quickly linked what happened in Copenhagen to him and the Order.
He hadn’t expected that a trail existed.
Which made him wonder about Sabre.
How careless had the man been?
Or was it intentional?
Margarete’s warnings about Sabre rang through his mind. Too much freedom. Too much trust. Why hadn’t his acolyte called? The last he knew, Sabre was on his way to London, by way of Rothenburg, to find George Haddad. He’d tried calling several times, but had been unsuccessful. He needed Sabre. Here. Now.
A light rap on the door.
He stepped across and turned the knob.
“Time we talk more,” Thorvaldsen said to him.
He agreed.
Thorvaldsen stepped inside and closed the door. “You can’t be serious with all this, Alfred. Do you have any idea what your planning could spawn?”