7 Prologue Rome, one night in A.D. 258 The man stared at the sky, carefully studying the movement of the clouds. At last, he raised his hand. That was the signal. A long, dark cloud had just moved across the moon, plunging the site into darkness. The moonlight would remain hidden for a short time. The man stepped from his hiding place, followed by two other men. Their joints cracked as they stood up. Their muscles were cramped. They had been holed up in their hiding place for almost two hours, waiting for the right moment. “We have to act fast,” he warned. “If the wind rises, the cloud will pass quickly.” The three men moved noiselessly out into the night. They knew exactly where they were going. They had been staking out the site for several days now. “There it is,” the first man whispered, spotting the little stone pile. He showed the two others where to dig. As they set to work, he spread out a magnificent red cloth woven with gold threads. It belonged to a wealthy senator, one of their group, who had insisted on offering it for the occasion. It was his way of contributing to the project.
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