Adam Palmer - The Boudicca Parchments

As Daniel approached the fence, Ted followed with some degree of confusion if not trepidation. The white fence was of uneven height, but Daniel selected the lowest part and climbed over. Ted did likewise and found himself in a garden that had potted plants and cacti around the borders, but white tiles occupying the bulk of the surface area. To their right, in the corner was a swinging love-seat on a green-painted metal frame, sheltered by its own awning, as well as by a green-painted wrought iron gazebo, covered in clinging vines.

But that was not where Daniel’s attention was focussed. It was on the house, and in particular the metal garden doors and the shutters behind them that ran down to ground level. As Daniel approached the shutters, Ted sensed movement behind them and wanted to warn Daniel. But he didn’t want to shout and disturb anyone at this time of the morning. In a few seconds, Ted realized what was happening. The shutters were slowly rising. And from the rumbling whirring sound and the slow, steady rate at which they rising, it was clear that they being operated not by a human hand but a motor.

And while they were still rising a sliding glass door was opening behind them to reveal a man in his early eighties, looking at Daniel through the metal garden door, as he inserted a key and open it.

“What are you doing here?” asked the man.

But the voice was not hostile. It was surprised, to be sure, but tinged with a trace of pleasure. Daniel half-turned towards the archaeologist behind him.

“Ted. Meet my father.”

“Wake up! Wake up!”

Shalom Tikva was shaking his son’s arm. He had entered the living room of the friend’s house where they had both been hiding out and was now rousing his son aggressively. For most of the night, Baruch Tikva had slept a fitful sleep after arriving at Aryeh’s house. And now, just as he was finally nodding off in the small hours of the morning, his father was waking up.

“Wha… what? What is it?”

“We must get up and recite Shaharis .”

The word Shaharis was the Ashkenazi classical Hebrew pronunciation of Shahari t — this was the morning service, recited by orthodox Jews either quietly and individually or out loud by a minyan , a quorum of ten males aged 13 or over.

Baruch got up and staggered to the bathroom.

“Why so early?” he called out. “We can da van later.”

We can pray later.

“No we can’t. We have something to do.”

“What?” Baruch called out over the sound of running water.

“We are going to rid the face of Israel of our enemies.”

“But how do you know where they are?” Baruch called out.”

“I know where they have to go. They will go where this ends. They will go where it started.”

“And where did it start?” he asked, shouting to be heard over the water.

“Where the sinners took their lives… where the woman died.”

“But how will we rid ourselves of them?”

The water stopped.

“I met a Palestinian friend,” said Shalom Tikva. “He gave me something… as a favour.”

When Baruch Tikva emerged from the bathroom, he saw that his father was holding a hand grenade.

“And you think that the answer is at Masada?” asked Helen, as they sat together at the breakfast table.

“That’s the only place it can be,” Daniel replied. “We know from the Temple Mount Parchment that when Bar Giora emerged from below ground and was captured by the Romans, he gave his wife, and the rest of the group, strict instructions to make their way to Masada. We know that Eleazer Ben Yair was his right hand man and we know that Ben Yair made it back to Masada. So we must assume that Lanosea did too.”

“But what do you expect to find there? Masada has been thoroughly excavated.”

“Actually it hasn’t. The north and west have, but the southern part somewhat less. And the eastern part not at all. There was an unwritten agreement among archaeologists not to excavate everything, but to leave some things to future generations.”

“But you can’t just start digging there.”

“I’m not going to dig . But we can look .”

“And what do you expect to find?

“I don’t know. I guess that’s the fun of looking.”

After Daniel had explained to Helen and his father, Bernie, about their adventures, both in England and in the Old City, they had taken turns in the shower and Bernie had supplied them both with a change of clothes, although in the case of Ted, the legs and sleeves were a bit short because of the height difference.

Now they were tucking into a hearty breakfast at Chez Klein , including smoked salmon, pickled herring, fried eggs, Emek cheese (similar to Edam or Gouda), rye bread, mini-Chala — the best bread rolls Ted had ever tasted — and fresh salad that really was a salad, not just soggy lettuce, comprising a mixture of tomatoes, cucumber, green peppers and radishes. You couldn’t fault the Kleins (senior) when it came to hospitality.

“Are you sure you’re not just going to get yourselves arrested?” asked Helen.

“Or worse,” added Bernie.

Even though Daniel was in his forties, his father still spoke to him as if he were a child, or at best a teenager.

“We’ll be careful,” said Daniel.

Ted was listening in silence… and amusement.

“I still don’t see what you can hope to find,” said Helen.

Earlier on, she had surprised both of them by telling them that she had been part of the Hebrew University team that had helped the Vatican Library with the restoration of the waterlogged Domus Aurea Parchment.

“We might not find anything. But I think that after everything we’ve been through so far, it’s worth a try. At minimum I’ll be able to ask the information people there some questions that might help us further. Maybe with the results we’ve already got we might be able to persuade the Antiquities Authority to allow a new dig. Ted here has a formidable reputation as an archaeologist and I like to think I have some cache as linguist.”

“I wouldn’t place too much confidence in the Antiquities Authority,” said Helen.

Her sister, Irene, had clashed with the Antiquities Authority over their handling of the Dead Sea Scrolls, and effectively fallen out with them.

“If we want to get a license to dig, we don ‘t really have any choice. In the meantime, a quick visit to Masada might enable us to fill in some gaps so that when we put out case, it stands on rock solid ground — ‘scuse the pun.”

“Well in that case we’d better go online after breakfast and check out the bus times to Masada.”

“Ah,” said Daniel, awkwardly, looking at his father. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if you might lend us the car.”

Bernie, flicked his head in Helen’s direction, keeping his eyes on Daniel.

“You’ll have to ask the lady of the house,” he added, by way of explanation.

Daniel looked at Helen, not quite sure how to phrase the question, given that she had already heard it.

She smiled, amused at his awkwardness.

“All right,” she said. “But just make sure you bring it back in one piece.”

Sarit hadn’t spoken to Daniel since they had parted company at the hospital. A guard had been placed at Leah Yakarin’s bedside and Sarit had gone back to her other duties, which essentially meant reading up about anti-Israel organizations and learning about their infrastructure in preparation for future assignments against them. Daniel and Ted could have had close protection, but that would have entailed restriction of their movements, something they were loath to agree to.