The Botticelli Secret - By Marina Fiorato Page 0,173

prayed for the people.

And the Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole: and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live. And Moses made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole, and it came to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived.

“The thing was named Nehushtan by the boy-king Hezekiah.”

As he fell silent, we all looked up at the snake, an odd trinity of harlot, soldier, and monk, collectively as sinful and as devout as any that had touched it in that cursed valley.

“Brother,” breathed my friend at last, in a voice low and urgent with excitement, “are you telling us that this is Nehushtan, this is actually the snake that Moses made at the word of God? Brought here to Milan?”

“As the Lord is my witness.”

I didn’t doubt that the Lord was his witness. I looked again at the snake, in awe, and the snake looked at me.

“Then if you will permit us, the dogaressa will pray before this wonder alone. We will leave in a very few moments.”

The fellow nodded and withdrew entirely; his light extinguished, he had gone to his shortened rest.

“Now,” I said. “Let’s crack this egg.” I took the cartone from my bodice, unrolled it for the umpteenth time, and laid it on the open page of the Book of Numbers. “This pillar, in Ludovico’s army’s church, has a snake at the top, like the cad . . . cad . . . Mercury’s wand.”

“Caduceus. Yes.”

“But there’s only one snake here, on this pillar. Mercury’s wand has two, look.” We both craned in to peruse the warlike figure stirring the clouds with the rod of snakes. Sure enough, two serpents twisted about the haft.

Brother Guido was untroubled. “Well, I think there we must look to the name of the idol. In Hebrew , nachash, means serpent, while , nachoshet, means brass or bronze.”

“So?” I was all impatience.

“Let me finish. The -an ending of ‘Nehushtan’ denotes a plural—in short, it signifies that the original idol was actually of two snakes. Two snakes on a pole.”

“All right, so the caduceus, with which Mercury stirs the clouds, is Nehushtan.”

“Undoubtedly. But I was thinking of another wand in our possession. One which boasts only one snake.”

I stared blankly. He touched my sleeve. “The ‘map,’ “ he said briefly.

I took the wooden roll from my surcoat. We huddled to the flame to see, clearly carved, the serpent Nehushtan on the top, burned into the wood like a brand.

“So what we’re holding here,” I said slowly, “is a model of this pillar.”

“A replica, yes. Except it is not an exact copy, for the markings on the wood are muddled scratchings and marks that mean nothing.”

“Whereas this pillar,” I slapped the polished stone, “has absolutely nothing on it.”

“Hmmm,” mused Brother Guido, stroking his soldier’s stubble, “just the snake at the top. Very well. Let us consider what Nehushtan may tell us. For there must be a reason why we have been led here, to the church that made blind men see. The snake holds a secret.” He craned upward and traced the snake’s shape in the air with one long finger—one loop, around and back.

“One revolution . . . and the snake head resembling an arrowhead . . . go this way . . . yes . . . it’s almost as if . . .”

“As if you might finish a sentence?” I rapped.

“Forgive me. As if we are being given a direction. Loop around. Go once around. Let’s obey, and take a turn about the pillar.”

We walked round the pillar in opposite directions, the snake balefully regarding us from the top, and fetched up exactly where we had started. The pillar was as plain as a Pentecost platter.

“Wondrous,” I grumbled as we met once more. “Around the pillar and up the garden path.”

“Very well. Perhaps the snake is not telling us what to do with this pillar, but what to do with the replica that it adorns.”

In the candlelight we turned the wooden roll this way and that, but the markings made no more sense.

“Unless . . .” began Brother Guido slowly.

And then he seemed to run mad.

He dashed to the altar, snatched up a half-full chalice. I gaped at him, for this was no time for refreshment. Then he came back to me, took up the great Bible,