Read Online The Psalter by Galen Watson - Free Book Online

scribes in the scriptorium looked on horrified, some muttering under their breath. Baraldus heard the sound of someone spitting. A glower from the huge priest silenced them and sent their ink-stained hands back to copying. The tanner held his four-sided hat as he peered into the archivist’s cell, ill at ease.
    “Come in.” Johannes stood up from his seat and pointed to the carved backless chair in front of his desk. “Please sit.”
    “I thank the young master,” the tanner said, head bowed but eyes raised suspiciously. “I prefer to stand.”
    “I’ll stand as well, then. I’ve been sitting all day and need a stretch.”
    “I’ve concluded our agreement with Father Baraldus. He’s an expert in the art of the trade and I fear I’ve sliced my profit miserably thin in exchange for exceptional hides. I shall hardly make a denier in the bargain.”
    “I had no idea my assistant was so shrewd. Perhaps you can compensate for your meager margin with volume.”
    The tanner chuckled politely, then cleared his throat. “Do you wish to enter into some other business arrangement?”
    “No, master tanner, I want to ask a question.” Johannes searched for the most diplomatic words, but found none that would blunt his intent. “You don’t believe Jesus is the Messiah, is that not so?”
    Elchanan HaKodesh passed his cap from hand to hand. Beads of perspiration formed on his brow. “Our Hebrew religion is an ancient one, secundarius .” He bowed his head again, not daring to look up. “Only He Who Cannot Be Named can know if your Lord was the Messiah.”
    “Fear not, Elchanan. I’m aware of your beliefs. Many of my teachers in Athens were of the Jewish faith and men of great wisdom. Your business is safe no matter what you say.”
    “Then you already know we don’t believe Jesus was the Messiah.”
    “Of course. What I wish to understand is why.”
    “ Secundarius , I’m not learned in these matters. I keep the law, the High Holy days, and I attend the synagogue on the Sabbath. For a subject such as this, you should consult someone who studies such things.” Elchanan bowed, trying to back away.
    “Wait. Who can I speak to that does study such things?”
    The tanner stopped. He realized he couldn’t politely retreat. “Would it not be unwise for you to be seen consorting with Jews that many Christians believe are the killers of your Christos? And such holy men of my faith consider Christians to be…”
    “Unclean?” Johannes grinned. “Still, I want an answer. It would be better if you could direct me, rather than my having to search for these men by walking the streets of your ghetto.”
    “The man you seek is the Rosh Yeshiva, a rabbi who’s the wisest in our community. He’s the leader of our Talmudic schools, much like your library. He can answer your questions.”
    “Would you lead me to this man?”
    Elchanon stared long at Johannes “If he agrees to meet with you, and only if he wills it, then I shall send for you.”
    “Who is the man?”
    “He’s my father.”
    Baraldus escorted the Jew to the steps of the palace. He shook his head as he watched him lead his ox cart through the piazza toward the via Papale . “What have I done?”
    A priest in the far corner of the scriptorium wiped spittle from his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. He opened a small square of parchment, dipped his sharpened reed into black ink, and wrote,
    Johannes buys hides from the Jews!
    He folded the sheet in half, then quarters, and slid it inside his wide sleeve, into a pocket.

8
Hogsmouth
    Pietro di Porca muttered to himself, “I would never come this way at night,” as he endured whistles and jeers from the perpetual rabble posted outside the Colosseum. He pretended to ignore them as he shuffled past, making for the fashionable row of towers and mansions in the Monti quarter. His young nephew, the Count of Tusculum, had commanded his presence. “How dare he? I’m an Archpriest after all, and the Cardinal