Another jet, another destination. This time Paris, France. A place Silas would just as soon forget about, given what happened earlier in the year.
After the ambush at Luxor, Silas and Celeste narrowly escaped the valley and headed straight back to Luxor International Airport, passing several frantic Egyptian police units along the way. Even the military was racing toward the scene. Which made sense given all the terrorism the country has experienced since the fall of Hosni Mubarak during the Arab Spring and rise of the Muslim Brotherhood.
Given what Silas had discovered, one of their only solid leads was the Chartres Cathedral. So off to France they went. In the meantime, Zoe and her team would continue parsing out the intel and trying to make connections. Unfortunately, Silas’s phone was indeed toast. So no luck there. But another one was waiting for him when they arrived. Hopefully, something else would turn up soon, because their first lead was exactly as Silas called it: a total-bust red herring. Whether Pryce had deliberately planted the false, encircled Shishak lead was uncertain. Near as he and Celeste could figure, Nous had commandeered Pryce’s jet as a ruse in order to throw the Order off his trail. And then take out their two headaches—Silas and Celeste—once and for all.
By the grace of God, the plan didn't work. But unfortunately, that meant Pryce was who-knew-where. And they were left with nothing.
After touching down near evening at Orly Airport just south of Paris, the two convened in a conference room being held for them off the private hanger. Radcliffe had an update on their research.
“Trust the flight was uneventful after your latest brush with death,” Radcliffe said.
Silas scoffed. “I’ve traveled better roads in wore-torn Iraq and Afghanistan than the ride we had. And sorry, but your hat is MIA.”
“How unfortunate. But better to have saved your skin.”
Celeste nodded, and asked, “Radcliffe, any word from Zoe and her team?”
“Yes. Zoe was able to make an important confirmation from the intel you relayed, Silas. The mystery book is what is known as the Kebra Nagast. And it appears Pryce had a copy.”
“Kebra Nagast? What is that? Why does Pryce think it’s relevant to his hunt for the Ark?”
“It’s entirely relevant,” Radcliffe chuckled. “And I must confess a measure of ignorance surrounding the book. Apparently, it is a text revered in the Ethiopian Orthodox Church.”
Silas turned to Celeste. “Ethiopia?” She shrugged her shoulders. “What does Ethiopia have to do with the Ark?”
“A lot. Kebra Nagast is a thirteenth-century manuscript. It’s greatly revered among the Ethiopian people and written, as you pointed out Silas, in an ancient Semitic language, called Ge’ez, a dialect originating in the Horn of Africa, which later became the official language of the Kingdom of Aksum and Ethiopian imperial court.”
“Interesting,” Silas said.
“The religious text contains the earliest surviving version of an ancient story surrounding the Ark that’s…how shall I put it? Well, some have gently suggested at best it’s a far-fetched legend meant to inspire Ethiopian nationalism and religious devotion. At worst, a politico-religious lie meant to undermine one political opponent and exalt the rights of another as the rightful heir to the throne of Ethiopia.”
“And the legend?” Celeste asked.
“The legend centers on the relationship between King Solomon of Israel and Queen of Sheba. Of course, 1 Kings of the Hebrew Scriptures tells the story of when the queen visited Solomon after hearing about his fame and relationship with Yahweh, the God of Israel. She brought him a large caravan carrying spices and gold and precious stones, as well as tested him with hard questions to discern his wisdom. After an extended conversation, Solomon gave the good queen all that she desired and asked for, aside from what he had already given her out of his royal bounty. Then she left and returned to her own country. Now, what the Bible does not say, but the Kebra Nagast suggests is that King Solomon gave the queen something else.”
Radcliffe paused. Silas asked, “And what was that?”
“A son.”
“A son?” Silas and Celeste said in unison.
“Named Menelik. And this ancient manuscript you stumbled upon, Silas, tells this story about the birth of their son, as well as something else.”
Radcliffe paused again. He seemed to be relishing the role of the wise sage.
“Don’t tell me,” Celeste said, “the Ark of the Covenant.”
“As the legend goes,” Radcliffe continued, “Menelik abducted the Ark from the First Temple in Jerusalem and brought it to Aksum.”
“Remarkable,” Silas whispered. “Is there any validity to the claim?”
“Well, the Ethiopian people sure believe the account. It is highly revered, almost in the same way the Holy Scriptures are, believing it tells the whole truth and nothing but the truth about the ancient Israelite relic. Without question, the Ethiopian people believe they possess the Ark of the Covenant.”
"But?" Celeste said, anticipating a reply.
“But there are problems with the account.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the ethnic identity of the Queen of Sheba, for one. There’s doubt that she really had been an Ethiopian. Another is a question surrounding the advancement of the Ethiopian civilization. Not to smack of Western ethnocentrism or anything, but many doubt whether it could have been a sufficiently ‘high’ enough civilization to have engaged in direct diplomatic contact with ancient Israel. Then there is the issue of Aksum itself.”
“Why’s that?” Silas asked.
“It wasn't even in existence during Solomon's time. Therefore, the legend of the Ark having been brought to the city simply isn't possible.”
“Well, that’s disappointing. I was hoping we finally had a Raiders of the Lost Ark remake on our hands. So you’re saying the legend can’t be true. That the Ark isn’t in Ethiopia.”
Radcliffe cleared his throat. “I’m saying it’s highly improbable. From where the evidence stands, at least.”
“Well, someone sure thinks there’s a connection! Both Pryce and Nous. Why else would he have a copy hidden away in his hotel room? Unless it’s another red herring, like with him highlighting Shishak with that big, fat circle.”
Silence fell between the three.
“Wait a minute,” Celeste interjected. “Didn’t you tell us earlier yesterday that there have been a number of unconfirmed reports of an increase in persecution among African churches?”
“That’s right,” Silas said. “What’s that about?”
“Indeed. And now there have been several confirmed thefts of sacred objects throughout several Ethiopian churches in particular. Something called a tabot.”
“A what?”
“Every Ethiopian church has its own supposed replica of the Ark that is kept in the sanctuary chapel of the Church of Saint Mary of Zion in Aksum. It’s called a tabot. Apparently, some are made of wood, but most are made of stone. Again, I’m embarrassed at my lack of familiarity with this branch of the Church, and even the Order’s ignorance, given that we’ve pledged ourselves as protectors of the Church’s sacred relics and memory vessels. Anyway, that’s something we need to explore.”
“I wonder…” Celeste said.
“Wonder what?” Silas asked.
She turned to him. “I wonder if Pryce knew all along that the Ark wasn’t in the Temple complex, in the chamber beneath the Holy of Holies. I mean, did you see his face when it looked like the wool was pulled over his eyes?”
Silas nodded. “Sure did.”
“It’s like opening the chamber only confirmed what he had already suspected, or already knew.”
“And didn’t it seem like he was almost relieved to see them absent?”
“Absolutely. Relief. That’s a good way of putting it.”
“Why relieved?” Radcliffe wondered, adding to the discussion. “From what? Or, rather, for what?”
Silas shook his head. So did Celeste.
“That’s what we need to figure out,” Celeste said. “Because why deliberately…basically, stage an exhumation when you know the body has already gone missing?”
“Unless you’re trying to make a point.”
“But what is that point? That there is no Ark?”
Silas shook his head. “Can't be that. My discovery a decade ago proved there was. Or, at the very least, convinced Pryce that it was real and worthy to put his professional reputation on the line in pursuit of it. So I don't think this is about proving the Ark isn't real. Especially if he's already making connections with a possible alternative location. Because if Luxor taught us anything, it’s that Nous wants us off the trail of the hunt for the real location. That means Pryce and Nous must still want it. And want to expose it.”
Silence again flooded the room, accompanied by a low-grade dread.
Radcliffe finally spoke. “You two better get off to Chartres, the day is already growing late, and the cathedral will close in a few hours. Zoe and her team will continue their research. But I have a sneaking suspicion that the solution to this riddle will come from boots on more ground.”
Given their last success, that’s what Silas was afraid of.