Free The Thirteenth Apostle by Michel Benoit

body. When it was discovered, everyone would think it was a settling of accounts between Zealots: disembowelling their enemies was their calling card. He took a last glance at the body.
    â€œFrom now on, I am the rock on which the Church will be built, and death will not prevail against us. It is not all over, Judas.”

15
    Two days had gone by since the death of Andrei. Nil gazed at his table strewn with papers, the result of years of research. He thought he had elucidated the circumstances of the death of Judas: the plot had been hatched during the final days preceding the crucifixion. Judas had been murdered; he had not hanged himself. The events that ensued could be understood only if the texts were scrutinized in detail, so that one could discover, behind what they openly said, what they merely hinted at. History is not an exact science: its truth comes from the juxtaposition of accumulated clues.
    Now he needed to apply the same method to the mysterious note he had found in the hand of his dead friend. For this, he needed to gain access to the historical library. The new librarian would be appointed only after the funeral, which was to take place the following day.
    He closed his eyes and allowed the memories to rise up within him.
    â€œFather Nil, I have just learnt that, while working on the restorations at Germigny, the workers have unearthed an ancientinscription. I’d like to see it. Do you think you could come with me? I need to photograph some manuscripts in Orléans, and the road goes past Germigny-des-Prés…”
    They parked on the square in the little village. Nil was pleased to see this church again. Charlemagne’s architect had wanted to reproduce in miniature the cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle, built in about 800. Its marvellous stained glass in alabaster created a powerful atmosphere inside, a sense of intimacy and meditation.
    They made their way to the threshold of the sanctuary.
    â€œSee how it is still wrapped in mystery!”
    Andrei’s whispering was rendered barely audible by the noise of the hammers attacking the end wall: to remove the windows, the workers had been obliged to remove the coating surrounding them. In between two openings, just where the nave continued, one could make out in the gloom a gaping hole. Andrei went over to the men.
    â€œExcuse me, gentlemen, I’d like to take a look at a slab that I gather you found while you were doing the restoration.”
    â€œOh, the stone? Yes, we found it under a layer of coating. We pulled it down from the wall and placed it in the left transept.”
    â€œCan we examine it?”
    â€œNo problem: you’re the first people to take an interest in it.”
    The two monks walked a little further on and noticed on the floor a square slab, the edges of which bore the traces of having been embedded. Andrei bent over, then went down on one knee.
    â€œAh… the embedding is clearly original. When it was in situ , this slab would have been directly in view of the faithful. So it assumed a particular importance… Then – look – it was covered with a coating that seems more recent.”
    Nil shared his companion’s excitement. These men neverreferred to history as a period that was over and done with: the past was their present. At this precise moment, they could hear a voice from across the centuries: the voice of the emperor who had ordered this slab to be engraved and wished it to be embedded in such a remarkable spot.
    Andrei took out his handkerchief and delicately wiped the surface of the stone.
    â€œThe coating is of the same type as those in Romanesque churches. So this slab must have been covered with it two or three centuries after being set in place: one day, the need was felt to hide the inscription from the public. So in whose interest was it to hide it away?”
    Characters were starting to appear under the coating as it crumbled into dust.
    â€œCarolingian script.