Free The Ghost Rider by Ismaíl Kadaré Page A

you remember that two years ago, after the heated controversy about the sex of angels, the capital came close to being the arena of a civil war that would have certainly led to wholesale carnage.”
    Stres did recall some disturbances, but he had never paid much attention to the sort of collective hysteria which erupted periodically in the Empire’s capital.
    “Today more than ever,” the archbishop went on, “when relations between our Church and the Catholic Church have worsened … Nowadays your life is at stake in matters like these. Do I make myself clear, Captain?”
    “Yes,” said Stres uncertainly. “But I would like to know what all this has to do with the incident we were discussing.”
    “Quite,” said the archbishop, his voice growing stronger now, recovering its deep resonance. “Of course.”
    Stres kept his eyes fixed upon him.
    “Here we have an alleged return from the grave,” the prelate continued, “and therefore a resurrection. Do you see what that means, Captain?”
    “A return from the grave,” Stres repeated. “An idiotic rumour.”
    “It’s not that simple,” interrupted the archbishop. “It is a ghastly heresy. An arch-heresy.”
    “Yes,” said Stres, “in one sense it is indeed.”
    “Not in one sense. Absolutely,” the archbishop said, nearly shouting. His voice had recovered its initial gravity. His head was now so close that Stres had to make an effort not to take a step backwards.
    “Until now Jesus Christ alone has risen from his tomb! Do you follow me, Captain?”
    “I understand, Monsignor,” Stres said.
    “Well then, He returned from the dead to accomplish a great mission. But this dead man of yours, this Kostandin – that is his name, is it not? – by what right does he seek to ape Jesus Christ? What power brought him back from the world beyond, what message does he bring to humanity? Eh?”
    Stres, nonplussed, had no idea what to say.
    “None whatsoever!” shouted the archbishop. “Absolutely none! That is why the whole thing is nothing but imposture and heresy. A challenge to the Holy Church! And like any such challenge, it must be punished mercilessly.”
    He was silent for a moment, as if giving Stres time to absorb the flood of words.
    “So listen carefully, Captain.” His voice had softened again. “If we do not quell this story now, it will spread like wildfire, and then it will be too late. It will be too late, do you understand?”
     
    Stres returned from the Monastery of the Three Crosses in the afternoon. His horse trotted slowly along the highway, and Stres mulled just as slowly over snatches of the long conversation he had just had with the archbishop. Tomorrow I’ll have to start all over again, he said to himself. He had, of course, been working on the case without respite, and had even relieved his deputy of his other duties so that he could spend all his time sifting through the Lady Mother’s archives. But now that the capital wasseriously concerned at the turn of events, he was going to have to go back to square one. He would send a new circular to the inns and relay stations, perhaps promising a reward to anyone who helped find some trace of the impostor. And he would send someone all the way to Bohemia to find out what people there were saying about Doruntine’s flight. This latter idea lifted his spirits for a moment. How had he failed to think of it earlier? It was one of the first things he should have done after the events of 11 October. Well, he thought a moment later, it’s never too late to do things right.
    He glanced up to see how the weather looked. The autumn sky was completely overcast. The bushes on either side of the road quivered in the north wind, and their trembling seemed to deepen the desolation of the plain. This world has only one Jesus Christ, thought Stres, repeating to himself the archbishop’s words. The sound of his horse’s tread reminded him that it was this very road that Kostandin had taken. The