Garrido, Antonio - The Scribe

She spoke of her hopes and her needs. She told him that she dreamed of waking up beside him each morning, sewing his clothes, cleaning the house, and tending the vegetable garden, learning to cook so she could serve him as he deserved. She even asked him to forgive her, lest—without intending it—she had done something wrong.

Hoos acted distant, however, and impatient for her to finish. When she demanded a response, he said only that he had slept too few hours because he had been searching for her father. He told her he had interrogated half the city, scoured every nook and cranny, but it was as if he had been swallowed by the earth.

His words moved her. “So, you still love me?”

His only response was to kiss her, making all her fears fade away. Theresa felt happy. Still in his arms, she told him what had happened with Zeno and how he’d shown her to the crypt.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” he said, stepping back in surprise.

Theresa argued that he was always busy. And she was terrified that someone might overhear and attempt to capture her father.

“He’s accused of murder,” she added as a reminder.

Hoos nodded, but Theresa insisted that her father was innocent. Zeno had amputated his arm and could testify to it. Then she began to cry inconsolably. Hoos was attentive, embracing her tenderly. He stroked her hair and promised her that from that moment on everything would change, he even asked her to forgive him for his foolish behavior. He explained that events had overwhelmed him, but that he loved her with all his soul and would help her find Gorgias.

“I’ll visit the crypt you speak of. Does anyone else know its location?”

She told him that only Alcuin was aware of its existence.

Hoos shook his head, repeating to her that she should not trust the monk. Then he asked her to go back to the scriptorium, promising that as soon as he discovered anything, he would come for her.

On the way to the scriptorium, Theresa recalled that, according to Alcuin, Genseric was already dead when he was stabbed, and she thought to herself that Hoos should be made aware of this fact. She had sworn to Alcuin that she would not tell anyone, but in reality that oath concerned the document, and not a matter that might prove vital for finding her father.

Turning around, she returned to the part of the tunnel where she had left Hoos, but all she discovered were a few abandoned sacks of grain. Surprised, she looked around and saw a side door, through which she could hear voices. She pushed the door open and walked down a narrow corridor, at the end of which she thought she could make out two faintly illuminated figures. One of the appeared to be a cleric. The other was Hoos Larsson. She continued until, to her surprise, she heard them arguing about her.

“I’m telling you, that girl is a problem. If she knows where the crypt is, she could tell anyone. We must eliminate her,” the cassocked man asserted.

Theresa’s heart thumped.

“And the rest of them? The girl trusts me and will do what I say. She doesn’t know about the twins—or about her father and the mine,” said Hoos. “When she has finished the document, then we’ll get rid of her.”

The cleric shook his head, but then agreed.

Hoos Larsson brought their conversation to a close, and without saying good-bye he made for the door.

When Theresa realized he was heading her way, she ran down the corridor toward the exit. But as she ran, she tripped over a sack of grain and fell to the floor. When she tried to stand up, Hoos was there.

He reached down and grabbed hold of her arm. “What are you doing here?” he asked without releasing her.

“I came back to tell you I love you,” she lied, trembling.

“From the floor?” Hoos had noticed the door that she had left ajar, but he said nothing.

“In the darkness, I tripped.”

“Tell me then.”

“Tell you what?” she asked, red-faced.

“That you love me. Wasn’t that why you came back?”

“Ah, yes!” She was shaking as she forced a smile.

Hoos pulled her to him without letting go of her arm. He kissed her on the lips, and she didn’t protest.

“Now get back to the scriptorium.”

When at last he released her, Theresa’s soul was filled with hatred for that man and his serpent tattoo.

She could not comprehend it. The idea that Hoos—the man she had given herself to—intended to murder her made it impossible to think straight. She ran to the scriptorium without looking where she was going, like an outlaw pursued by a pack of wolves. She tried to understand how it could have happened, but she could not find an explanation. Images of her father at the mine swirled around with the images of Hoos making love to her. As she ran, tears clouded her vision. Who was the cleric she had seen from the back? Alcuin himself, perhaps?

When she reached the scriptorium she found it empty, but the sentry allowed her in because he knew her. She searched for the document she had been working on but couldn’t find it, so she assumed that Alcuin or Wilfred had gone off with it. However, under some parchments, she found her father’s emerald-colored Vulgate. She took it along with a couple of pens and left, intending to flee the fortress.

Avoiding dark corners, she moved along the corridors as if she feared someone would jump on her at any moment. As she passed the armory, a cassocked man suddenly stood in her way. Theresa’s blood froze, but the cleric merely pointed to a pen that she had just dropped. The young woman picked up, thanked him, and walked on, her pace quickening with every step. She went down the stairs and turned down the passage that connected the entrance hall to the cloister. From there she would go out into the courtyard and then to the fortress walls.

She walked with her head bowed, trying to conceal herself with her cloak, when suddenly she saw Hoos and Alcuin talking on the other side of the cloister.

Hoos saw her, too.

She quickly averted her gaze and kept walking, but she saw him take his leave and quickly head toward her. Theresa was almost at the exit. She went out into the courtyard and broke into a run, but as she reached the fortress wall she realized in horror that the gates were closed. She looked behind her and saw Hoos in the distance advancing slowly but deliberately. Her heart pounded. She turned again, desperately seeking another way out.

At that moment she saw Izam on horseback by the stables. She ran toward him and asked him to lift her up. Izam was puzzled but gave her his arm and hoisted her onto the hindquarters. Crying, she begged him to take her away from the fortress. Izam asked no questions. He spurred on the horse and shouted an order for the gates to be opened. Moments later, with Hoos cursing his bad luck, they had left the walls and the citadel behind.

Izam guided his mount through the ant’s nest of narrow streets until they reached some abandoned shacks in the poor quarter outside the walls. He dismounted next to some abandoned-looking stables. Leading the horse inside, he tethered it to a rail. Then he piled up some straw and offered it to Theresa to sit on. When he thought she had calmed down, he asked her what was going on. She tried to speak, but her weeping prevented her. As much as he tried, Izam was unable to console her. After a while Theresa ran out of tears and she abandoned herself to melancholy. Without knowing why, he took the liberty of holding her, and she was comforted to think that someone was protecting her.

When at last she could speak, she told him what she had witnessed in the tunnel. She explained that she had heard Hoos promising to kill her, and also that he knew the whereabouts of her father. She had to persuade Izam that Gorgias was no murderer, that they had to find him, for he was undoubtedly in danger. However, Izam urged her to continue her story. She told him all she knew, leaving out Constantine’s document. The young man listened closely and inquired about Alcuin’s role, though Theresa could not give him a clear answer. Izam pondered it all and finally decided to help.