took the pouch but did not hide it, continuing to hold it in his hand as if he could not bring himself to accept this last gift from his teacher.
«And if… if they catch me?» he asked in a strained voice. «And I cannot withstand torture?»
Thomas looked at his pupil attentively. During his long years of wandering and service, he had seen much, but always found the strength to remain true to his principles. He had witnessed the fall of Jerusalem, fought in the Crusades before turning to faith and becoming a monk. He knew what fear and pain were. And he knew how to cope with them.
«David,» he began gently, «do you remember the story of Saint Peter?»
The young man nodded.
«He denied Christ three times before the rooster crowed.»
«Yes. Even the most devoted disciple can show weakness. We are all human.» Thomas placed his hand on David’s shoulder. «But what matters is not that we fall, but that we find the strength to rise. If you are captured and you break… Just survive, David. Survive and continue the mission when you can.»
Tears stood in the young man’s eyes.
«I don’t want to leave you, teacher.»
«But you must,» Thomas said firmly. «Not for me, not for yourself. For those who will come after us. For those who may one day need the crystal’s power.»
He embraced his pupil, holding him tightly to his chest.
«Go by mountain paths,» he whispered. «Local shepherds will show you secret trails. Stay away from main roads. And remember: light in water, water in light. Solomon’s key will open the way.»
«Light in water, water in light,» David repeated. «Solomon’s key will open the way.»
They drew apart. Thomas pronounced a blessing in Aramaic, the ancient language of their faith, and made the sign of the cross over his pupil.
«Go in peace, my son. And may the Lord keep you.»
David bowed his head, accepting the blessing, then quickly, without looking back, walked away. At the edge of the path leading down from the plateau, he turned one last time. Thomas still stood there, against the backdrop of the rising sun, tall and straight. His figure seemed to glow in the rays of dawn, as if woven from light itself.
David raised his hand in a farewell gesture and began to descend. Within moments, he disappeared among the rocks and shrubs.
Thomas remained standing motionless for a long time, gazing after his departing pupil. Then he turned and looked at the lake, shimmering in the rays of the morning sun.
«Lord,» he whispered, «give him strength to fulfill his mission. And give me courage to face what is to come.»
He knew that returning to the monastery meant, most likely, condemning himself to death. The Mongols did not leave alive those who resisted. But Thomas had a plan – a mad, desperate plan that might give the remaining refugees a chance for salvation.
He took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and headed back to the stone buildings. A conversation with the abbot of the Armenian monastery, old Father Grigor, awaited him. They needed to prepare a feigned surrender of the monastery, while the majority of the refugees would secretly leave through an underground passage known only to a few.
Three days later, Thomas sat in a dungeon – a cramped cellar with an earthen floor and rough stone walls. His hands were tied behind his back, his legs bound with rope. His face was covered with bruises, one arm, twisted during interrogation, throbbed painfully.
The Mongol noyon Jebe was known for his cruelty, but also for his perspicacity. He quickly realized that Thomas was not just one of the refugees, but a leader, a keeper of knowledge.
The interrogations continued day after day. Jebe wanted to know where the treasures were hidden. He was not interested in gold and silver – he was looking for some special item. «The Stone of Power,» as he called it.
Thomas remained silent, no matter what they did to him. Even when the pain became unbearable, he found solace in prayer and thoughts that David was already far away, beyond the Mongols’ reach.
In the dim light of a torch burning in the corridor, he gazed into the semi-darkness of his dungeon and thought of those who had already left this world. The abbot of the Armenian monastery, Father Grigor, was killed on the first day of the siege when he refused to hand over the refugees. Many brothers and sisters died protecting the children. But a large group managed to escape through the underground passage while Thomas negotiated with the Mongols, deliberately buying time.
The creaking of the door roused him from his reverie. Jebe entered the dungeon, accompanied by his shaman – a thin old man with a bird-like face and eyes that seemed to reflect other worlds.
«You can still save your life, monk,» the noyon said without preamble. «Tell me where the stone of power is hidden, and I will release you.»
Thomas looked at him silently. He knew Jebe was lying. The Mongols released no one.
«Our shaman,» the noyon pointed to the old man, «says the stone is somewhere nearby. He can feel its power.»
The shaman nodded, not taking his penetrating gaze from Thomas.
«It glows in the water,» the old man said in a creaky voice. «But there is much water around. The lake is large.»
Thomas felt a chill run down his spine. Had the shaman truly sensed something? Or was it a coincidence?
«You know that sooner or later we will find it,» Jebe continued. «The great khan has ordered every stone to be turned, every stream to be dried up if necessary. He wants to obtain the stone of power.»
«Why?» Thomas asked, breaking his silence. «Why does Genghis Khan need this stone? He already has power over half the world.»
Jebe smirked.
«The great khan is mortal, like all men. He seeks that which will extend his life, make him stronger.» The noyon leaned closer. «They say this stone heals any wound, grants longevity and strength of spirit. Is that not so?»
Thomas turned away, not wanting to show how much these words troubled him. The Mongols knew too much about the crystal.
«If I had such a stone,» he said slowly, «I would hide it so that no one could find it. Because the power you speak of is not meant for people. Especially for those who crave power.»
The shaman suddenly made a strange sound – something between a laugh and a croak.
«I told you, noyon. This man knows more than he says. He hides the stone not out of fear, but out of conviction.»
Jebe looked thoughtfully at Thomas.
«You know, monk, I respect your resilience. Not many can endure what you have endured.» He straightened up. «But my patience is not endless. Tomorrow at dawn, we will continue our conversation. And if you do not tell everything you know, I will be forced to resort to extreme measures.»
With these words, the noyon left, the shaman following him. The dungeon door slammed shut with a crash.
Thomas leaned back against the wall, trying to find a position in which his wounded body would hurt least. He understood that he would not survive the next day.
But this did not frighten him. The main thing was that David had escaped with the medallion, that the crystal’s secret was preserved, that the knowledge would be passed down the chain of guardians, from generation to generation, until the time came.
In the dim torchlight filtering through the grate in the door, Thomas mentally repeated the ancient words of prayer, preparing for what lay ahead. He knew he would die, but he also knew that his cause would live on.
And in this knowledge, there was a strange, calm certainty that