The Eighth Veil by Frederick Ramsay Page B

asking questions, you must do two things. First, erase any memories you have of this object and what you have seen, and second, in the event they do not believe you about the first, make sure they know you cannot read. The knowledge this pendant carries is, for now, a dangerous thing to possess, I promise you.”
    “You will tell me later?”
    “When it is safe to do so, yes. But it may be a while yet. We will have to wait and see. Secrets, Agon, secrets in the wrong hands can bring down a kingdom. Unless you are the one plotting to bring them down, it is best not to know any.” Gamaliel added the fake pendant to the pouch with the knife and the coins and stood. “I must leave you now or I shall be late. This business gets more interesting even as it becomes more dangerous. I will see to it you receive a substantial reward for your work this day.”
    He left the shop. He needed to hurry to keep his appointment with Menahem. As he turned into the street that led uphill toward the palace, he caught in the corner of his eye Agon’s next customer entering his shop. The identity of the person did not immediately register but he was certain he had seen him before and the name would come to him later.

Chapter XV
    Chuzas waited at the entrance to the room set aside for the interviews. He looked agitated.
    “Am I late? Have I kept Menahem waiting?”
    “No, your Eminence, it is he who is delayed. An unfortunate conflict in schedules.”
    Gamaliel wondered about that. Whose schedule? Chuzas’ or more of the royals who might or might not be lurking behind the latticework? Was it Menahem’s, or some other, as yet unannounced, party? It was a question with no answer, but it gnawed at him anyway.
    “Very well, we shall wait. Steward, you have heard all of the interviews thus far. Have you formed an opinion on the matter?”
    “An opinion? It is not my place.”
    “No, of course not, yet you heard the king, the queen, and the princess each in turn deny any knowledge of the events occurring before this tragedy, and any substantial knowledge of the girl, and yet you also heard the earlier testimony of the servants and players which contradicted them. Why do you suppose they were so loath to own up to some of it? A scintilla perhaps?”
    Chuzas jaw dropped. He stammered something Gamaliel could not make out. One of the royal family must indeed hover somewhere behind the lattice. Good. It is always best to know the breadth of one’s adversaries, which in this case, he regretted, included at least one wearer of the purple.
    “Sorry, Chuzas, I missed what you were saying.”
    “I only said that…if their Highnesses denied knowledge of the events, it must be so. It is the others who must be mistaken.”
    “You think? Extraordinary. Ah, this must be Menahem at last.”
    A tall man, old but not stooped as many of the elderly are, strode into the room. His manner and carriage were almost regal. If anyone who did not know the king by sight and were required to pick him out of a crowd in which this man also stood, he or she would undoubtedly select Menahem over Antipas. Impressive. He sat easily and gazed unblinking at Gamaliel.
    “You are Menahem, companion to the king.”
    “And you are Gamaliel, Rabban to the Sanhedrin.”
    “So we know each other.”
    “Yes, it would seem so.”
    “As a point of reference, can you tell me how you came to be here?”
    “Here? The king and his entourage always travel from Tiberias to Jerusalem on High Holy days. They did this time and so, here I am.”
    “You misunderstand me. I am aware that the king prefers the relative laxity of his new city on the Sea of Galilee to the holiness of David’s. No, what I am asking is, how you came to be in the king’s entourage in the first place?”
    “With respect, Rabban, is your knowing that pertinent to your investigation?”
    “Let’s just say it might be. Indulge me in this. There are aspects of the situation, I find, that appear to transcend a