Chapter 29 Chapter Twenty Eight

This time it was me, not Barry, who dozed off.When I woke up and found myself tucked behind him with my head on his shoulder in the navy sweater, I sat up straight.Barry turned to look at me, eyes full of distant thoughts or the view of the countryside from the window.The rural landscape is no longer flat, but one after another, the simple French countryside.After a minute, he smiled. The box containing the secret of Sultan Muhammad was opened, and the smell I was familiar with wafted out. I didn't dare to look closely. I used to secretly read some ancient books like this-I think I was afraid of the bad smell, and even more afraid that there was something evil in the smell. Power, I dare not inhale.

Turgut gently took the document out of the box.As we watched, he carefully unrolled a scroll of parchment secured to a fine-wood spindle, a far cry from the large, flat sheets and bound volumes I had grown accustomed to studying Rembrandt’s days.The margins of these parchments are decorated with geometric designs in gold, dark blue, and scarlet.To my disappointment, it was all handwritten in Arabic, though I had no idea what I was expecting to see. Turgut saw what I was thinking, and hastily explained, "My friends, this is the account of expenditures for a war with the Dragon's Order, which was written by an official receiving the sultan's salary in a small town south of the Danube River. Written here—in other words, it is an official report. You can see that Dracula's father, Vlad Dracula, forced the Ottoman Empire to spend a lot of money in the middle of the fifteenth century. Money. The official authorized three hundred men to wear armor and - what do you say? - to guard the border of the Carpathians with scimitars in case the natives revolted. He also bought them Here"—his long finger pointing at the bottom of the scroll—"Speaking of Vlad Dracula's extravagance—a nuisance, forcing them to spend more money than the pasha expected. The Pasha was very unhappy, very unhappy, and he wished the Son of Heaven a long life in the name of Allah."

Helen and I looked at each other, and I think I read in her eyes the awe I felt myself.This corner of history is as real as the tile floor under your feet and the wooden tabletop under your hands.The people who bear this history have literally lived, breathed, felt, thought, and finally died, just like us—and we will.I turned my face away, unable to take a closer look at the excitement flashing across her strong face. Turgut rolled up the scroll and opened the second package, which contained two scrolls. "Here is a letter from the Pasha of Wallachia to the Sultan. He promises to send it to the Sultan if he finds any documents relating to the Order of the Dragon. This one describes the trade along the Danube in 1461. This is not far from the area controlled by Dragon's Command. The boundaries of this area are not static, you know, but are constantly changing. Here are listed silk, pepper, and horses, which the pasha asked in exchange for sheep in his domain sheepskins made by man."

The contents of the following two scrolls are similar.Turgut opened a smaller package, which contained a sketch drawn on parchment. "A map," he said. I automatically reached for the briefcase, which contained Rosie's traced maps and notes, but Helen shook her head almost imperceptibly.I see what she means - we haven't gotten to know Turgut well enough to tell him all our secrets.Not yet, I added in my mind.After all, he seems to have opened up all sources of information to us. "I've never been able to figure out what kind of a picture this is, guys," Turgut told us regretfully.He twirled his beard thoughtfully.

I looked at the parchment, and my heart skipped a beat. It was the first map Rosie copied, but it was faded.There is a long moon-shaped mountain and a winding river to the north. "It's not like any place I've ever studied, and there's no way of knowing its—what do you say?—proportions, do you know?" He put the picture aside. "Here's another picture, like Enlargement of the first image." I know it's true—I've seen it.I became more and more excited, "I believe this picture is the mountain to the west of the first picture, isn't it?"

He sighed, "But there's no way to check any further. You see, there isn't much expository text, except for a few lines from the Koran, and this strange proverb - which I have carefully translated - that says Probably 'Here he cohabits with evil. Reader, dig him out in one word.'” I was taken aback and wanted to reach out to stop him, but Turgut's mouth was too fast, and I was caught off guard. "Don't!" I shouted, but it was too late. Turgut looked at me in surprise, Helen looked at the two of us in turn, and Mr. Erozan, who was working on the other side of the hall, also turned to stare at me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I'm excited to see these documents. They're very—interesting." "Ah, I'm glad you found them interesting," Turgut's seriousness turned into a smile. "That's a bit of a strange thing to say, and it's - you know - a shock." Just then, footsteps sounded in the hall.I looked around nervously, wondering if I'd see Dracula, whatever he had become.However, it was a small man with a white cap and a gray beard who showed up.Mr. Erozan greeted him at the door, and we continued to look at the materials.

Turgut took another parchment from the box, "This is the last document here," he said, "I never understood this. In the library's index, it is in the in the directory." My heart skipped a beat, and I saw Helen's face blushing, "Catalogue?" "Yes, my friend." Turgut gently spread the things on the table in front of us: Herodotus' "Procession of Prisoners of War", Physius's "On Reason and Torture", Origen's The Christian Principles, Eusemius the Elder's The Fate of the Sinner, Gubent's De Nature, St Thomas Aquinas's Sisyphus.

"You see, this is a strange catalog. Some of the books on it are rare. My friend who studies Byzantium tells me that it mentions the writings of Origen, an early Christian philosopher. Such an early edition can be found. , that was a miracle, since Origen was charged with heresy and most of his works were destroyed." "What kind of heresy?" Helen looked interested, "I must have seen his introduction somewhere." "People accused him of proposing in this treatise that, according to Christian logic, even Satan would be saved and reborn," Turgut explained. "Should I continue?"

"If you don't mind," I said, "could you write down in English the titles of the books you just read?" "No problem." Turgut sat down with a notebook and took out a pen. "What do you think?" I asked Helen. She didn't need to speak, her expression had already answered me: "We came all this way for this messy bibliography?" "I know it doesn't make sense right now," I whispered to her, "but let's see where they lead us." "Well, my friends, I will read to you the titles of the following books," Turgut finished cheerfully, "as you can see they are almost all related to torture, murder or other unpleasant "The Fate of an Assassin" by Erasmus, "The Cannibal" by Henriques Curtius, "The Sinner" by Giorgio of Padua."

"Aren't the books dated?" I asked, leaning over the literature. Turgut sighed, "Yes, I've never seen some of them anywhere else, and none of them was written after 1600, for sure." "That is, after the death of Vlad Dracula," Helen commented. I looked at her in surprise.I hadn't thought of that, it's a simple fact, but it's so true it's puzzling. "Yes, my dear lady," said Turgut, looking up at her, "I have never been able to find out how or when this catalog came into the collection of Sultan Muhammad. Someone must have added it later, Perhaps the catalog was added long after it came to Istanbul." "But, before 1930," I mused. Turgut looked at me sharply. "That's the time to lock up the collection," he said. "Professor, why do you say that?" I blushed, both because I talked so much that Helen looked away in despair at my stupidity, and because I wasn't a professor yet.I was silent for a while, trying not to lie. I lowered my eyes hesitantly, but saw something unusual.My hand suddenly clicked on the original Greek manuscript, the bibliography of the Dragon's Command.After all, not all the text above is in Greek, and at the bottom of the bibliography, I clearly see: Bartholomew Rossi.followed by a Latin sentence. "My God!" I yelled to startle the people who were working silently in the whole room. Turgut immediately became vigilant, and Helen quickly approached, "What is it?" Turgut stretched out a hand to the document, I was still dumbfounded, he easily found where I was looking.Then he jumped up, and said in a low voice, a response to my shout, so clearly and strangely comforting to me, "My God! Professor Rossi!" The three of us looked at each other, and no one spoke for a while. Finally, I managed to speak, "You," I whispered to Turgut, "know this name?" Turgut looked at me, then at Helen, "Do you know?" he finally said. " Barry's smile was very gentle: "You must be exhausted, or you wouldn't have slept so soundly. Are you really planning to go to the south of France alone? I hope you can tell me the exact location instead of asking me to Guess what, so I can send a telegram to Mrs. Clay and get you into the biggest trouble." Now it's my turn to laugh.We've had fights like this several times. "You're so stubborn," Barry moaned. "If I leave you somewhere in France, Professor James will make me trouble like this when I go back." That almost brought tears to my eyes.However, before the tears came up, let his following words dry up. "At least we'll have time to have lunch before catching the next train and we can spend my francs." He said "we" and it warmed my heart.