Rafe sat at the table in the corner of the library, a stack of books in front of him detailing the history of coinage in Russia, Ukraine, and the general Slavic territories. The small, silver coin he had found at the monastery was safely in his pocket, yet he remembered the imprint vividly. From time to time he would take it out and compare it to the pictures of specimens he found in the books. So far, he had not found a resemblance. He was frustrated.
The Vernadsky National Library of Ukraine was located in central Kiev and was a modern architectural structure filled to the brim with over fifteen million items. It was a virtual treasure trove of Slavic civilization, containing historical writings, art, manuscripts, musical scores, and other matter. Vernadsky, born in the late eighteen hundreds, was the patriarch of Russian and Ukrainian geochemistry and founded the Ukrainian Academy of Sciences during the Russian Civil War. If Rafe was going to find out information on the coin, it would be here at this library somewhere. The problem was the amount of records here was so large, it could take some time. Maybe a lot of time. Time which I don’t have. Time is running out.
After leaving the monastery, he had made his way as quickly as possible in the rental car back to Kiev, the potholed roads notwithstanding. The priest could not provide any more information on the visitors or the location of the chamber he had seen the day before. Nor could he comment on the ritual he had seen. Rafe had the sense the priest was not being truthful. Hard to believe. I think the priest is part of this somehow. He’s sending me on my way on purpose. It’s like everyone I have met knows more than I do. I’m like a lamb on the way to the slaughter. He had left early in the morning and arrived back in Kiev before the library closed for the day. He searched for answers until forced to leave. Rafe was waiting the next morning for the facility to open to continue his quest for information. After eight more hours of research, he was growing tired, though the pile of books to go through was still formidable.
He had narrowed down the time period from which the silver piece emanated. It was definitely an early example of Russian coinage from the beginning of the sixteenth century. Ivan the Terrible’s mother, Elena Glinskaya, had instituted currency reform before Ivan took the throne. Russia, having united many of the eastern Slavic tribes of the land, began to mint currency for the entire kingdom. Rafe knew the coin fit this period because of the inscription on one side which matched many of the early coins he had found in his research. He had also studied the imprints on the silver under a magnifying glass used for ancient texts in the historical wing of the library. The face of the coin, however, was like nothing that could be found. It consisted of a center Orthodox Cross surrounded by eight smaller crosses circled around it. Coins in that day were struck by cutting a wire made of silver in equal lengths, therefore providing an equal amount of metal for each article. The silver was then hammered between an upper and lower die to create the images. This is what gave the coin its oval shape.
Rafe was stumped. And he was really getting sick to death about his daughter. The image of the man plunging the knife downwards toward Cecilia tormented him. He tried not to think of her and kept looking through book after book until his eyes were red and stinging with pain.
After another hour with no success, Rafe slammed his current book shut to the annoyance of several nearby library patrons. They looked at him with angry faces. He was not following the rules, and in former Soviet republics, the rules were paramount. He was getting nowhere. Why am I on this wild goose chase? Where the hell is my daughter? I don’t have time to keep looking at books! Rafe stood up to stretch his legs and walked to the library exit and into the late afternoon sun. The library would be closing soon. He pulled out his phone and called Neal to ask if there was any news about Clare. There was nothing additional Neal could report. Rafe was at a dead end and in danger of losing his daughter. Then he had an idea. He took his phone back out and dialed the number of a Ukrainian friend from years ago who now taught at KNU, or the National University of Kiev.
After the phone call, Rafe was on his way. Since the library and the university were fairly close together in Kiev, Rafe and his friend Maxim had agreed to meet at a restaurant for dinner that was located approximately equidistant between them. The place was a Georgian establishment which served a style of food that Rafe loved. The Georgian cuisine developed over time as the trade routes between East and West crossed the Georgian territory in central Asia for centuries. The food was a blend of many cultures and tended to be spicy and exotic. The style of food permeated all the countries of the former Soviet Union, as Stalin himself was a Georgian and encouraged the cuisine to be prepared wherever he traveled within the Soviet republics.
Rafe entered the establishment after driving the short distance required. The mild smoke from the hookah pipes hit him in the face as he walked in. Smoking the hookah or kalyan had made its way up to the Ukraine from the Levant over the centuries. It was the custom of smoking a device that forced the smoke through water before being inhaled. Westerners would know it as a form of a bong. A myriad of tobacco flavors were available, and the practice was quite fashionable during a long meal with friends. Georgian meals tended to be long. Every table was adorned with colorful, ornate pipes set to one side.
Rafe and Maxim enjoyed a nice meal complete with wine and enjoyed catching up with each other and discussing the current events in Ukraine. This had been Rafe’s task in the past to stay up to speed on the happening in Kiev, so Maxim expected the same at this meeting. After some time, Rafe changed the direction of the conversation.
“I need your help, my friend.”
Maxim said nothing for a moment and then replied. “Tell me what you need and it will be done.”
Rafe reached into his pocket, pulled out the coin, and handed it to him. Maxim’s eyes widened as he visualized the imprints on the silver.
“Where did you get this?” he said excitedly.
Maxim had built his reputation at the university as being an expert in Ukrainian, Russian, and general Slavic history. That is why Rafe had cultivated a friendship with him over the years while working to provide Neal information on what was happening in Ukraine.
“It’s not important where I got it. What I need to know is what it represents. I need to know anything you know about this coin. It’s a long story, but my daughter’s life depends on it.”
“Your daughter’s life? I don’t understand.”
“And you won’t understand. I just need to comprehend completely everything you know about the period and what this could represent. What it could be telling me.”
Maxim thought for a few moments and then began speaking. “Ivan the Terrible had these struck in the mid sixteenth century. After Russia captured Kazan, he commissioned a cathedral to be built near the Kremlin in Moscow to commemorate the event. The cathedral consisted of a central church surrounded by eight smaller churches. There were one hundred coins struck to celebrate the cathedral being finished. See the central cross surrounded by the smaller images? These represent the central and surrounding churches of the cathedral. It is said that Ivan thought the structure was so beautiful that he had the eyes put out of the architect to prevent anything so beautiful from being built again. Although, that probably is not true but we will never know.”
“You mean this coin was struck to commemorate the completion of St. Basil’s Cathedral on Red Square?”
“Yes. And there are only a couple known to be in existence, and they are in museums. Where did you get this again?”
“Like I said, that’s not important. I appreciate your expertise. This has been very helpful.”
“This belongs in a museum.”
“Once I find my daughter, I give you my word, I will put it in the museum of your choice.” Rafe and Maxim finished their meal, parted, and Rafe was once again on his own in Kiev.
Rafe again sat alone in a bar in Kiev, surfing the net on his laptop and trying to make sense of his whole situation. Why does someone want me to go to Moscow? The questions were too numerous to make sense of anything. I guess I have to go. Luckily my visa is still valid. Whatever rollercoaster ride I’m on, I hope I get off soon.
He pulled up information on St. Basil’s Basilica. The onion-domed church was a historical symbol of Russia and Moscow in particular. The architecture was unique among Russian work and was not replicated anywhere else during the tsar’s reign. The multiple domes were meant to portray a flame flickering towards the heavens. Rafe had visited the structure, now a state museum since being secularized almost a century before by the Soviets, years before on a trip to the Russian capital. He tried to remember the layout, but the details were fuzzy in his mind. He studied the web page which described the cathedral in depth. What is the relation to me? Nothing was clear.
Rafe ordered another drink and tried to reorient his thinking. Maybe I am thinking about this the wrong way? How is all of this connected? Ancient Rome, Mythraism, Kiev, the Monastery, Vladimir the Great, Ivan the Terrible, now Moscow? And the rituals? Clare’s disappearance? Cecilia’s death? The thought of Cecilia being gone chilled his soul and he felt a numbness from his body's natural reaction to the psychological pain.
Rafe was tired and the alcohol was clouding his thinking. He couldn’t put the pieces together. Nothing made sense. Someone is taking me on a tour through history. But what history? What is the significance? Rafe went over his words again in his mind.
Suddenly he sat upright in his chair and started typing on his electronic notepad while the thoughts were clear in his mind. All of these things are connected! When western Rome fell, all that was left was the Byzantine Orthodox Christian Empire. When they were overrun by the Ottomans, Vladimir the Great had turned Kievan Rus' into a Christian kingdom. Kiev was also overrun by the Mongolian hordes and destroyed! Then Moscow attempted to become the Third Holy Roman Empire, taking the mantle from the kingdom of Kievan Rus.’ Ivan the Terrible tried to make this happen! Is that the connection? The fortunes of these great civilizations? Suddenly Rafe had energy. He redoubled his efforts to study the layout of St. Basil’s Cathedral. The answer is here somewhere! I can feel it! I’m coming Clare! Daddy’s coming! Hold on my love, I’m getting closer!
Rafe poured over the diagrams of the cathedral. There had been many changes and additions over the centuries. There were countless nooks and crannies as the nine different churches were designed to all fit together. There was a crypt located below the entire structure with secret entrances. A tenth church was added after Ivan’s death and was built upon the grave of the famous St. Vasily; hence the cathedral’s name was changed in his honor. There were thousands of places inside the structure where clues could lie. Rafe decided he could not figure out the answer by looking at the cathedral online. I have to go there. I have to go to Moscow.