Adam Palmer - The Boudicca Parchments

So now they were climbing the stairs chattering to each other and listening with curiosity to the sirens in the distance that seemed to be getting closer. At the top of the stairs, they closed the gate and turned right in the sheltered overhang of the buildings, past the end of the row of attached houses and into the bright sunlight.

The long street was not a bus route and in some ways could easily have been mistaken for a cul-de-sac, except that it was in fact open at both ends. But they had no intention of going to the end of the street. After the attached row of houses on the left ran out the street continued towards the green dumpster or “frog” as Israelis called it, with the wire mesh cage for the plastic bottles a few yards before it.

All this was perhaps thirty yards away from where they were. To their left was the valley and to their right the street, in which many cars were parked but few in motion. This was not a through road to anywhere else. The only cars that used it were the ones owned by those who lived there or were visiting others who lived there. Everyone else used the high road above the blocks of flats on the right than ran parallel to this street.

So there was nothing to disturb the tranquillity of the twins as they walked at a leisurely pace towards the “frog” laughing, joking and larking about. They didn’t notice the windowless workman’s van that had started just after they closed the gate and was almost coasting along in neutral behind them. But just as they reached the wire cage for the plastic bottle recycling, the vehicle came up next to them and the side door slid open.

They looked round startled as two men reached out and yanked them in. They screamed in terror, or at least tried to. But the men who had grabbed them, clamped large hands over their mouths to stifle their screams. A second later a third man slammed the door shut while the driver, gunned the engine, engaged the gears and lurched forward down the street.

While the sirens entered the street from one end, they were speeding up towards the exit, the roundabout and the road that passed Kiryat Moriah that would take them to the promenade and the heart of the city.

The driver smiled. Because it was a winding road, the police could not even see them. And by the time they had figured out had happened, they would have gone through to Derech Beit Lehem , and become lost in the city traffic.

So swift had they been, that no one had seen what had happened to give a description of their vehicle. By the time, the police figured it out, they would be long gone and they would have the children safely locked away.

“ My mother… something… the people…. Then there’s a negative… in other words not or no… then there’s a word… how did you pronounce that?”

The threesome were huddled in front of a 30 inch screen displaying a digital copy of the parchment. Dubois had explained that the original had been so badly water damaged that they were lucky to be able to get a clear image of the text. So instead they worked from this image on the large screen at an oak desk in a private room. Despite the Vatican’s venerable age and centuries of tradition, they had some of the most modern technology.

They sat in something that was more than a row but less than a semicircle. Daniel was in the middle with Monsignor Dubois to his left and Ted to his right. Ted had a notebook in front of him and a pen in his hand, so that he could transcribe Daniel’s phonetic transliterations and then work from them.

Staring long and hard at the text, Daniel transliterated again and then gave several alternative pronunciations. Ted scribbled hastily as Daniel spoke. When he had finished transcribing, he pondered the pronunciation for a few moments before trying again.

“My mother… something… the people… not to fear… for we had… and that word you pronounced Undressed-ah.”

“That was just a rough guess, Ted. I don’t really know how it’s pronounced. It could be Endarasheda for all I know.

“I think that’s Andraste… a local pagan goddess. The missing word could be some alternative word for told — not any of the words I know — or it could be a stronger word like urged or exhorted .”

“Can we put it all together in a sentence?” suggested Dubois.

“Yes. Then it would be: ‘My mother exhorted the people not to fear, for we had Andraste on our side.’ And I think I can translate the next sentence. Can you just remind me of the trans lit eration of the next bit.”

Again Daniel transliterated the Hebrew lettering, imputing vowels according to the placeholder letters and his best guesses. Ted smiled and spoke quickly.

“That ones a lot easier. ‘And they did listen to her words and their courage was strengthened.’” Ted looked up with tears in his eyes. “It’s incredible. It’s all here.”

“It is incredible,” Dubois seconded.

“And it’s clearly from the point of view of her daughter. So it ties in very neatly with the ketuba .”

“But why,” asked Dubois, “would the ketuba be in England and this document here in Rome?”

Daniel and Ted looked at each other and shrugged. Neither of them had a clue. But both realized that the answer may lie in this document itself.

They continued for several hours, to their collective amazement, translating an account that described Boudicca’s final battle and defeat. It turned out that the scale of the battle was much smaller than Tacitus and Cassius Dio had implied. And the text made clear that many of the Iceni and other tribes had returned to their lands before that, driven by hunger and a shortage of food. It also made clear that there were many surviving family members who fled the scene and were not pursued by the Romans.

At one point Ted commented that Tacitus’s first account in the Agricola might have been the more factually accurate and his later writings in the Annals an embellishment. But then the translation took a strange turn. Daniel translated a pair of sentence, and noted — without Ted’s help — that it contained the name Israel. The three of them exchanged mutual glances as they sensed that something big was coming. Ted translated with enthusiasm.

“After our defeat Simon and Aristobulos… something… my mother…”

“Killed?” asked Daniel.

“No it can’t be. Because it goes on: Aristobulos and Simon something her that Andraste was a false God and that if she worshipped only the true God of… Israel…”

There was a break in his voice and he couldn’t continue.

“How does it go on?” asked Daniel.

Dubois leaned back and shook his head at Daniel, warning him to hold back and not to pressure Ted. It was obvious that this was an emotional moment for the Cambridge professor. This was an amazing document for him, He had devoted a huge chunk of his life to finding the site of Boudicca’s final battle and now not only was it clear that he had found it at Arbury Banks, but there was another document here in Rome, apparently written by Boudicca’s daughter and referring to Simon and Aristobulos — the groom and witness respectively from the marriage ketuba that had been found at Arbury Banks by Martin Costa.

Ted forced himself to continue.

“…and that if she worshipped the true God of Israel, he would be her rock of refuge.”

“She converted to Judaism?” asked Daniel.

“It doesn’t say that,” Dubois stepped in. “In those days the God of Israel — from a pagan frame of reference — would have been the Christian God too.”

“Also, we haven’t yet got to her reply Daniel. Can you transliterate the next bit for me.”