“But there’s no possibility that she was captured?”
“None whatsoever. If that had happened, she would have been taken back to Rome in chains and paraded through the streets.”
“And that would presumably have been recorded by other writings in Rome.”
“Exactly Daniel. And no such record exists.”
“But if this ketuba is genuine — and we can’t be sure without the original — then this is…”
Ted nodded.
“Words fail me too Daniel. If the daughter of Boudicca got hitched to a visiting Judean — let alone one of the leaders of the Jewish uprising of 66 in Judea — then it’s a find that promises to rewrite history.”
For a while they sat there in silence, contemplating the enormity of the discovery, or at least the potential discovery. Finally Daniel spoke.
“Okay, now what is the significance of the site where you were digging?”
“Compared to yours, it almost pales into insignificance.”
“Maybe, but tell me anyway. At least you’ve got something concrete to show for your troubles. And it might just add to the big picture.”
Ted smiled, encouraged by Daniel’s words.
“Well, Arbury Banks has been suggested as a possible site for the final battle. The site was originally a late bronze age site in pre-Roman Briton. But it may also have been the site of the final battle. At any rate, that’s what we’ve been looking into.”
“But what’s so special about this map that you found?”
“Well first of all. It’s on parchment — and like I said, not the type of parchment you usually find in Roman Britain. Secondly remember what I said about the writing. I’m hoping that you might recognize it.”
And with that Professor Hynds cleared his plate from in front of him, opened the cardboard tube and carefully removed the parchment, that was now inside a transparent folder. It was actually quite a thick, sturdy parchment, that Daniel instantly recognized as gevil the unsplit cowhide that orthodox Jews used to make Torah scrolls.
But as the professor carefully unrolled the parchment and transparent plastic, Daniel recognized something else. The map showed the Mediterranean Sea as a flat horizontal oval, with Europe to the top. North Africa to the bottom, Iberia and the Atlantic Ocean to the left and Judea and Mesopotamia to the right. But there was also an arrow pointing to the Italian peninsula where Rome would be. And adjacent to that arrow was some writing in a Hebraic script that Daniel recognized as from about 2000 years ago, just like on the ketuba that Martin Costa had found.
But there was something different about this writing.
“What does it say?” asked Hynds.
“I wish I could tell you.”
Hynds did a double take.
“But isn’t it Hebrew… or Aramaic?”
“The lettering is Hebrew script all right. But I don’t recognize the language. It’s not Hebrew or Aramaic.” Daniel stared long and hard at the short text. “It’s not any Semitic language that I recognize.”
Chapter 53
The man who had followed the Sassons and Helen Klein to the house had been told by HaTzadik not to use the phone. They had been wary of using the phone at the best of times. But now with HaTzadik concerned that they might be under surveillance, they had to be extra careful. So instead, he drove back to the city centre.
He was in fact one of the few members local of Shomrei Ha’ir who could even drive. Because the sect was so fanatically opposed to the State of Israel, they refused not only to participate in its elections or to serve in the army, but even to cooperate with its institutions. Hence learning to drive was very difficult for Israeli members of Shomrei Ha’ir even though foreign based members — in the UK and USA — had mastered the skill driving of driving and were licensed to do so.
In the case of this man, he was Israeli, but he had not always been a member of the sect. For most of his life, he had been a secular Jew with no religious upbringing whatsoever until a personal crisis had caused him to “see the light” and become a ba’al teshuva — a master of repentance — who had hazar bitshuva, returned in repentance. This was not a convert, but a lost soul who had returned to the fold — the Jewish equivalent of a “born again” Christian.
As such he capable of equalling if not exceeding the fanaticism of other members of the sect. It also meant that he could be ruthless in his dealings with other human beings in order to fulfil the wishes and demands of HaTzadik, his beloved “rebbe” or teacher.
Once he reached the city centre, he drove around for twenty minutes before he found a place to park. Then he walked to Mea She’arim.
“The house is in the basement. There’s gold-painted metal gate. You go down the stairs and to the right and that’s where they are.”
“And you just drove by once?”
HaTzadik was grilling his man on the details. This time Shalom Tikva was taking personal command of the operation and he didn’t want it to go wrong yet again. He would proceed the plan with hours of prayer, knowing that success or failure was in the hands of Hashem. But in the meantime, he would plan it carefully and diligently.
“No I stopped further down and started chatting to a religious couple about buying a property in the area. I asked if it’s quiet on shabas and used that as a starting pointing.”
“And what did you find out?”
“About what it’s like on shabas?”
“About anything!” snapped HaTzadik, irritated. “What are the neighbours like?”
“There’s a hostel for mentally retarded girls.”
“A hostel?”
“Well… a sort of mini-hostel. It’s a basically an apartment where they’ve got several teenage and young adult girls staying.”
“And staff?”
“A woman comes to visit them during the daytime.”
“That’s it? But surely if they’re retarded…”
“They’re not severely retarded; just mildly. And some of them have behavioural problems. Anyway they were the only neighbours I was able to find out about.”
“What about access?”
“Well there’s only one actual entrance — and that’s the gate I told you about, But there’s a garden that overlooks the sloping hill and the valley. I took a look at the valley. There’s no road anywhere near it, but a fit person could climb up the hill and get to the garden that way.”
“And how easy would it be to get from the garden into the house?”
“Not that easy. All the windows have solid bars.”
“But what about how they get to the garden from the house?”
“Well from what I could see they had heavy shutters, that they presumably lower at night — or maybe just to keep the sun out. But there’s also an iron door and again, I assume they lock it at night.”
“But when you looked at it… during the day?”
“It was open.”
“And aside from that,” HaTzadik added, “if there’s a garden… and if there are little girls… they probably like to go outside and play.”
Chapter 54
Ted was looking at Daniel with unmitigated disappointment. And even Sarit, who had been content to eat in silence while these two academic gentlemen were having their discussion on ancient Roman history, was now paying attention. She had been riveted by their analysis of the conflicts that befell the Roman empire, but she had been hoping all along that something would emerge out of this that would tell them why there was such interest in the dig site at Arbury Banks… and why a fanatical anti-Zionist Jewish group was taking such an interest in the matter.
So far, an artefact trafficker, two policemen and two thugs-for-rent had been killed. There had been two attempts on Daniel’s life, one on Sarit’s and one on Ted’s — as well as a kidnap attempt on Daniel’s sister or nieces. They had established that a missing parchment, stolen from the dig site, was an ancient Jewish marriage certificate between a man who might have been a famous Jewish revolutionary leader or military commander who fought against the Romans in Judea and woman who was almost certainly the daughter of a Celtic queen. And now they had a map with some writing in the Hebrew alphabet but an unknown language that even a scholar of Daniel’s high repute was unable to recognize, much less translate.