THE REALM

MOVIE SCRIPT BASED ON “BAUDOLINO” BY UMBERTO ECO

Writen by Vlad Vasilescu

(Treatment format: “Year 1191. Baudolino Pilgrimage to the Universal Religion Realm”) 

               EXT. TERDONA FOREST - NIGHT
               SUPER: "MARCH 1155, TERDONA FOREST"

               The rain just stopped. Drops drip from leaves, mist rises
               from the ground. The moon rays project the tree trunks'
               shadows on mist clusters. The forest is silent. 

               A huge human shape moves through a thicket, disturbing the
               stillness and silence. 

               Riding a HORSE, the imposing, armored EMPEROR (33), small red
               mustache and trimmed beard, bends down searching for the
               trail, but there isn't one. 
               SWOOSH! He looks up -- a branch of a tree jiggles. 

               The small hand and the eye of a KID inch from behind the
               tree, the eye opens wide and blinks in surprise. BAUDOLINO
               (14), ruffled red hair boy, steps aside, unafraid. The forest
               is his playground, nothing scares him, and many things
               trigger his imagination.    

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (in Italian: subtitled)
                         Miracle! You must be Spiritus
                         Baodolinus.

                                   MAN
                             (in German; subtitled)
                         Spiritus Baodolinus?... No, I am
                         just the Roman Emperor Frederick
                         Ist.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (mixed German with
                              Italian)
                         Oh! Si... Imperatore Aleman?

                                   EMPEROR
                             (in German; subtitled)
                         Yes. I'm looking for the trail back
                         to Terdona.  

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (mixed German with
                              Italian, body language
                              for sword attacks, trail) 
                         Aaaah! Terdona, Alemani soldati, di
                         spura, capisco! 

               He caresses the horse's head, gently grabs its harness, and
               pulls it through a thicket. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (with body language for
                              the trail, opposite
                              directions, thieves)
                         Di spura...  guarda -- fortezza 
                         di Terdona -- mia casa -- niente
                         ladri!

               The Emperor glances in both directions, amused by the kid's
               ability to communicate. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (body language for hungry)
                         Hai fame? 

               Baudolino doesn't wait for an answer and pulls the horse's
               harness toward his house. 

               - LATER

               The Emperor holds Baudolino in front of him in the saddle. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (in Italian; subtitled)
                         The unicorn came first, then
                         Spiritus Baodolinus....He was sad
                         about the fight and... Alemani
                         victory. 

                                   EMPEROR
                             (in German; subtitled)
                         "Alemani vinceranno"! Of course!
                         And I will level Terdona's walls.

               Baudolino understands but doesn't like what he hears. He
               turns his head to berate the Emperor. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (in Italian; subtitled) 
                         "Nievellieren?" You should not do
                         that! My friends are there.

                                   EMPEROR
                         (in German; subtitled; joking)
                         "Amici?" Hmm. You come with me and
                         tell them to give up.

               EXT. MEADOW SCHACK - CONTINUOUS

               They exit the forest. The moon lights a shack, a pen, and a
               COW. Baudolino's father, GALIAUDO (40), poor, prematurely
               aged, forks up a hay load next to the cow. 

               The Emperor's horse neighs. Surprised, Galiaudo freezes, and
               the hay load falls on his head. The cow MOOOs. 

               The Emperor gets Baudolino off the saddle. Galiaudo clears up
               the hay and walks upset, limping toward the Emperor and
               Baudolino.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Padre -- 

               Furious, Galiaudo attempts to slap Baudolino, who ducks. 

                                   GALIAUDO
                             (in Italian; subtitled)
                          -- Good for nothing son! Why did
                         you bring the taxman here?

               He looks up scrutinizing the Emperor.

                                   EMPEROR
                             (in German; subtitled)
                         Your son is smart and kind. Said
                         that I could rest for the night. 

               Confused Galiaudo turns his head threateningly to Baudolino,
               waiting for translation. 

               The Emperor gets something from his belt and bends down to
               give it to Galiaudo. Startled, the latter extends his hands
               to defend himself, but then gets what is offered. 

               Galiaudo is transfixed by -- the silver coin in his palm, 
               shining in the moonlight. 

               EXT. MEADOW SCHACK - DAY

               Clumps of mist hang low in the meadow. The sun is about to
               rise. Galiaudo milks the cow. Baudolino and the Emperor sit
               on logs. 

               The Emperor empties a bowl of milk, stands up, and pats
               Baudolino on the shoulder. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (pleading)
                         ... Bitte -- 

               The Emperor shakes his head, looks toward the sunrise, then
               the dark forest, and -- closes his fist on the sword. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (mixed Italian with
                              German; subtitled)
                         Take me with you! I will tell your
                         Alemans about my dream... that
                         Spiritus Baodolinus told Terdonans
                         to give up.

               The Emperor lightens up a bit.

                                   EMPEROR
                             (in German; subtitled)
                         Your lies may save lives -- 
                         "Spiritus Baodolinus"!... Maybe I
                         should call you Baudolino.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (smiling, pointing at
                              himself)
                         Baudolino! Si, mi place!

               The Emperor ruffles Baudolino's hair paternally, and
               Baudolino looks up, grateful. 

                                   EMPEROR
                             (in German; subtitled;)
                         Would you like to grow up as my
                         adoptive son, learning at my court,
                         in Regensburg? Education will be
                         good for you. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (nodding vigorously)
                         "Regensburg", Ratisbona? Learnen -- 
                         Certo!

               The Emperor smiles appreciatively, points in sequence at
               himself, Baudolino and Galiaudo. 

                                   EMPEROR
                             (pointing in turn)
                         Frederick, Baudolino und...?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (pointing at his father)
                         Mio padre, Galiaudo.

               By the pen, the old man milks the cow. The Emperor walks to
               him. Galiaudo stops milking, upset by the interruption. The
               Emperor talks with him, touches his heart, mimics reading. 

               Galiaudo frowns, turns to Baudolino, who walks over.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (in Italian; subtitled)
                         The Emperor wants to adopt me as
                         his son and learn at his court.

               Galiaudo stands up dumbstruck, scratches his head, grabs the
               cow's neck, and scratches her head, lovingly. The emperor
               gets something from his belt and extends his hand to give it
               to Galiaudo, who now confidently gets what is given.

               Galiaudo and Baudolino look mesmerized at -- the five golden
               coins shining in the sun, then at the Emperor and Baudolino.

                                   GALIAUDO (V.O.)
                             (in Italian; subtitled)
                         Good for nothing son... dreamer -- 
                             (lovingly at the cow)
                         -- one more mouth to feed -- 
                             (mellowing, looking at the
                              shack, then Baudolino)
                         -- Why keeping him -- here?

               INT. MORIMOND ABBEY - SCRIPTORIUM - NIGHT
               SUPER: "MAY 1156. MORIMOND ABBEY" 

               At candlelight, Baudolino practices writing on a parchment,
               trying to imitate the -- calligraphic text from the book next
               to him. He's happy when he gets it right, unhappy when wrong
               and has to cross out.
                                  BAUDOLINO
                             (whispering; mixed Latin
                              with Italian)
                             Iniziando cronaca --  no! 
                             (crossing out) )
                         -- meus annales similis Gesta
                         Barbarossa -- aagh! 
                             (crossing out)
                         -- Frederici. 

               He looks at what he wrote -- "Initiando meus annales similis
               Gesta Frederici" and the crossed out "cronaca" and
               "Barbarossa". (Subtitled: "Starting my own chronicle like
               Gesta Frederici").

               BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION: THE WHITE UNICORN

               He falls into one of his frequent fits of imagination while
               looking at "...Frederici". The letters MORPH into the leaves
               carried away by a gust of wind in an eerie forest. The moon
               rays project the tree trunks' and thickets' shadows on mist
               clusters. A small, white Unicorn comes out, snorts, playfully
               shakes its mane, then turns back and disappears.
               Baudolino runs to follow but is arrested by the statuesque,
               equestrian, armored  Emperor who -- slowly raises his sword.
               SQUEEAAK!  

               BACK TO SCENE

               A door closes, SQUEEAAK! Baudolino jolts, hurriedly hides the
               parchment under the desk, grabs an open book, and reads
               whispering -- finger following the text lines.

               From the darkness of the scriptorium with racks of books and
               parchments, desks with open manuscripts and writing utensils,
               BISHOP OTTO Ist VON FREISING (60), white hair, fatherly
               figure, nighttime attire, approaches Baudolino's desk and
               affectionately pinches his ear.

                                   OTTO 1ST
                         Time to sleep puer dilectissime.
                         Tomorrow we move to Regensburg. The
                         Emperor wants you to listen in the
                         council's debates.

               INT. REGENSBURG FORTRESS - COUNCIL ROOM - DAY
               SUPER: "JUNE 1156. REGENSBURG"

               NOBLEMEN and CLERGY argue in the noisy assembly. The Emperor
               presides. Otto and Baudolino sit in a pew close to him.

               A BARON (35) waves his hand to stop the brouhaha. 
                                BARON
                             (to Emperor)
                         Why did Pope Hadrian coronate you
                         on Saturday... instead of the Holy
                         Sunday? Why on the side altar... 
                         instead of the main one? 

               The Emperor smiles.

                                   BARON
                         Why did he use the baptism oil, and
                         not the one with sweetened balsam?
                         Was it to warn you against the 
                         devil's temptations? What was the
                         message here? 

               The Emperor keeps smiling, then chuckles. Councilors' chatter
               grows louder. Baudolino stands up.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (to Emperor)
                         The "message" I see is that he was
                         not carrying the word of God. He
                         was just recording, like a notary,
                         your Augustus title crowned by the
                         word of God. -- I see you
                         chuckling... sly as a weasel!

               Sudden silence, puzzled councilors. The Emperor stands up,
               roaring with laughter.

                                   EMPEROR
                         That is the right way to think
                         about it. Take a good example!

               Councilmen relax, some laugh, some nod. Otto coughs
               violently. Baudolino helps him to stand up, and both leave.

                                   EMPEROR
                         Let's talk about the preparations
                         for my wedding now.

               EXT. WURZBURG CASTLE - DAY

               PRINCES BEATRICE (13), surrounded by an ENTOURAGE on HORSES,
               rides a WHITE HORSE through the castle portal. A happy CROWD
               of people wave hands and flags, and hails noisily. SOLDIERS
               hold lances and poles with banners.

               The Emperor gallantly helps Beatrice dismount and accompanies
               her to the COURT PEOPLE -- her stride gracious, confident.
               Warm greetings from people. The Emperor introduces her to
               them, then Baudolino.

               Childishly, Beatrice touches Baudolino's cheek. Struck by
               emotion, he kneels.

               White pigeons flap their wings above the heads of the group.

               INT. WURZBURG CHURCH - DAY

               Movement of poles with banners, religious crosses and
               cherubs. Rejoicing NOBLEMAN AND WOMEN stand close to the
               stairs leading to the throne of BISHOP OF WURZBURG (56),
               white beard.

               The Emperor and Beatrice stand two steps down from the
               throne, Baudolino and Bishop Otto a few steps further down.
               The Bishop makes the sign of the cross, then raises his hand.
               Silence.

               Swept by emotions, he looks at Beatrice's profile, then up at
               the cathedral dome.
               The birds flying outside project their shadows on the
               transept stained-glass windows. And his imagination takes off
               again.

               BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION: PIGEONS CARRY HIS HEART TO BEATRICE

               The birds' shadows MORPH into white pigeons flying through
               the windows and down, circling Baudolino. He surrenders his
               glowing heart to them. They carry it to Beatrice, who takes
               it and -- smiles at him. Bells softly CHIME.

               BACK TO SCENE

               Blaring harmonious music. Baudolino blinks and shakes his
               head to brush aside the reverie.

               Bishop of Wurzburg touches the hands of the Emperor and
               Beatrice. The Emperor and Beatrice warmly smile at each
               other. Harmonious music continues.

               INT. REGENSBURG PALACE - BISHOP OFFICE - NIGHT

               Vaulted room, ogive window, shelves with books, two desks
               with open and closed books, candles, and writing utensils.

               CANON RAHEWIN (55), bony figure, dry manners, writes.
               Baudolino reads, whispering in Latin. Someone is coughing.
               They look at each other. Baudolino walks out of the office.

               BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

               He enters the bedroom, Rahewin stops at the door. 

               Otto lies in the small bed, a white nightcap and nightgown
               open to the chest. By the bed, a night table with flasks,
               medicines, and a small metal tray. A fire smolders in the
               fireplace.

               Otto coughs -- red spots on his chest.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         I'll call the doctor --

                                   OTTO IST
                         -- Why? To feed leeches with more
                         of my blood? There isn't much left,
                         anyhow -- Rahewin!

               Baudolino offers a glass of water to Otto, who refuses.
               Rahewin steps forward.

                                   OTTO IST
                         You'll have to continue my Gesta
                         Frederici....Glorious times, except
                         for the struggle with the Italians.
                         They will not submit... will not
                         pay taxes... Frederick will keep
                         fighting them.
                             (to Baudolino)
                         -- Puer dilectissime... go find the
                         Realm of the Universal Religion...
                         its King and Priest Johannes.
                         Frederick must build an alliance
                         with him...
                             (weaker, whispering)
                         To strengthen his standing in
                         Europe and Byzantium.

               Exhausted, he closes his eyes and lies immobile. Saddened,
               Rahewin nods at Baudolino.

               But Otto has a surge of energy.

                                   OTTO IST
                         Go find the Realm! -- You rascal
                         had invented many stories the
                         Emperor liked....So, if you don't
                         have all the specifics... invent
                         some!

               Rahewin woould never do or teach such a thing, he frowns.

               Otto and Baudolino exchange affectionate smiles, the latter
               touches Otto's hand. Otto exhales and stops breathing.

               INT. REGENSBURG FORTRESS - EMPEROR SUITE - DAY
               SUPER: "MARCH 1159. REGENSBURG FORTRESS"

               The Emperor sits on a chair, and a YOUNG PAGE (20) holding a
               long, ornamented box, stands next to him. The Emperor opens
               the box, takes out a sword, stands up, and sweeps its blade
               with his hand.

                                   EMPEROR
                         We are at war with the Italians...
                         for them to recognize my authority.
               He hands the sword over to Baudolino. Baudolino gets it and
               looks at the blade engraved with -- a lion head and "Credimus
               & Pugnare". (Subtitled: Believe and fight.)

                                   EMPEROR (SUBTITLE
                         For your 18th birthday anniversary! 
                         -- Believe in your destiny. "Esse
                         est fides!" (Subtitled: "To be is
                         to believe.")
  
               EXT. CREMA KNOLL - DAY
               SUPER: "DECEMBER 1159. CREMA SIEGE"

               On BLACK HORSES, the Emperor and HENRY THE LION (30), duke of
               Saxony and Bavaria, watch the progression of the Crema. FEW
               KNIGHTS and CLERGY surround them. Behind them, the imperial
               tent.

               Two knights animatedly discuss and point down at the fortress
               and infantry positions in the valley. They ride down.

               EXT. CREMA FORTRESS - LATER

               Arrows fly between the ATTACKERS in the three siege towers
               and the DEFENDERS on the fortress crenels.

               The heavy stones catapulted by the Defenders break some
               trusses at the base of a wobbling siege tower.

               EXT. CREMA HILL - LATER

               Galloping from the valley, Baudolino reaches the knoll.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (to Emperor)
                         One of the towers is about to
                         topple... Stones had weakened the
                         trusses. Advise to pull it back!

               Angry, the Emperor looks at Henry the Lion, who nods.

                                   EMPEROR
                         Tie up the prisoners to the other
                         towers!... They won't dare to throw
                         stones at their own.

               Taken aback, Baudolino looks reproachful at the Emperor, who 
               -- fiercely raises his head, commanding. Hesitating,
               Baudolino obeys and rides down into the valley.

               INT. CREMA HILL - IMPERIAL TENT - LATER

               The Emperor, Beatrice, and Henry sit on chairs around a big
               log afire. Baudolino enters in a hurry, agitated.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         The prisoners shout at their own to
                         keep stoning the siege towers!

                                   EMPEROR
                             (looking at the fire)
                         Burn alive the reminder of the
                         prisoners... in front of the gates!

               In disbelief, Baudolino looks at Beatrice, for help. She
               stands up, touches the Emperor's shoulder, and is about to
               say something but doesn't.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (flabberghasted)
                         Father! They have our people as
                         prisoners. They'll kill ours in
                         turn!

                                   EMPEROR
                         So be it. We are at war!
               INT. REGENSBURG FORTRESS - DINING ROOM - NIGHT
               SUPER: "JANUARY 1163. REGENSBURG FORTRESS"

               At the dining table, Beatrice lovingly feeds Bea, her ONE
               YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER. The Emperor and Baudolino just finished
               dinner. Frederick throws his napkin on the table, stands up,
               and paces up and down, lamenting.

                                   EMPEROR
                         I had to destroy them, for them to
                         understand my power -- Crema. Then
                         Milan, again!

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         The Italians' trade interests
                         continuously change. Cities forge,
                         then break alliances. So, even the
                         ones that submit to you today, may
                         turn against you --

               The Emperor dismisses Baudolino's argument.

                                   EMPEROR
                         -- Then I'll start a new campaign.
                         The Third... and keep their Pope
                         Alexander at bay. Thank God, he was
                         excommunicated.

               Looking at Beatrice and the baby girl, his mood changes, and
               smiles. Beatrice nods at him lovingly.

                                   BEATRICE
                         Baby Bea, do you see your father's
                         big red beard? That's why his
                         "beloved" Italians call him Barba
                         Rossa.

               She hands the baby over to a NURSE, who leaves the room.

                                   EMPEROR
                         Warriors and priests -- Little
                         chance for me to govern in peace.
                         I should have learned law,
                         philosophy instead --
                             (upbeat)
                         -- So, you shall continue your
                         studies in Paris.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Paris? I thought I would go find
                         the Realm, foster your alliance
                         with its King....That's what Otto
                         wanted... for you.

                                   EMPEROR
                         Knowledge first, diplomacy later.

               A PRIEST enters the room.

                                   PRIEST
                         Your highness, a message from Pope
                         Victor, about Pope Alexander.

               The Emperor rolls his eyes, annoyed. Beatrice stands up and
               graciously nods to Frederick.

                                   BEATRICE
                         I'll let you hear what our Anti
                         Pope is up to. Allow Baudolino to
                         accompany me.

               She gets Baudolino's offered arm, and they leave.

               BEATRICE'S QUARTERS

                                   BEATRICE
                             (to Baudolino)
                         Paris... So far away and for a long
                         time.

               They stop at the door of her chamber.

                                   BEATRICE
                             (softly)
                         Write to me about your studies,
                         frequently.

               Baudolino's eyes betray emotions he'd rather hide. He kneels
               on one knee.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         I promise.

               A bit confused, she smiles and touches his chin to make him
               stand up. He does, and she slowly turns to enter the room. By
               happenstance, their profiles are about to touch -- shocked,
               they retreat.

               Beatrice rushes into her bedroom and closes the door. Frozen,
               Baudolino looks at the -- door handle, slowly, moving up.

               INT. PARIS - SAINT GERMAIN-DES-PRES - DAY
               SUPER: "MARCH 1163. PARIS"
               In the church vaulted, cold basement with small windows, a
               bearded PRIEST-MASTER (60) walks among YOUNG STUDENTS and
               steers the conversation.

               Steam coming out of their breath, the students debate a
               religious topic with strong voices and body language. They
               sit crouched on straw bunches, books and papers on their lap
               or wood blocks.

               Baudolino listens, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. To
               his left, ABDUL (16), pleasant Arabic complexion, oftentimes
               inspired by poetic dreams -- writes down verses. Behind them,
               THE POET (17), bulky built, short-dark hair, rough manners,
               intelligence not his forte, watches enviously at Abdul's
               poem.
               The Priest-Master dismisses the class, the students bag their
               papers and continue to argue on the way out. Baudolino and
               The Poet stand up, the latter kicks Abdul in the butt.

               EXT. PARIS - ROAD TO LES CROIX DE FER TAVERN - NIGHT

               They slip and playfully bump into each other on the thin
               layer of cobblestones snow.

               Two big heavy iron crosses adorn the entrance of Les Croix de
               Fer. A faint sound of music and chatter. They get in.

               INT. PARIS - LES CROIX DE FER TAVERN - CONTINUOUS

               MEN and FEW WOMEN talk loudly, laugh, drink, or eat, some
               mouthful. Two bosomy WAITRESSES serve food and drinks. An
               inebriated FIDDLER plays his violin to a dog.

               The GYPSY WAITRESS, (30), low neckline blouse, bends over to
               set jugs with drinks on Baudolino's table -- more exposure of
               breasts.

               The students delight in the view.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (French Sinte; subtitled;
                              to the waittress)
                         Your soul looks great today.

               She charms him with a mocking, frivolous glance.

                                   WAITRESS
                         I love you gadžo!

               She leaves. The Poet follows her transfixed. Abdul doesn't
               care much.

                                   ABDUL
                         I write love songs for the woman I
                         long for.

               He sighs profusely, takes a hearty gulp of wine, and slowly
               puts the mug on the table. The Poet takes a gulp and knocks
               the mug on the table -- wine splashes.

                                   THE POET
                         I wanted to be a poet! But my
                         father, no! Wanted a military
                         carrier for me....Chess! He even
                         taught me chess, for strategy's
                         sake!

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (struck by emotion)
                         My beloved lady?....I had to go
                         away from her,
                             (recovering)
                         -- actually, it's... something more
                         important. The Realm!

               He calls for their attention to listen to his story.

               INT. PARIS - MANSARD - NIGHT

               Wrapped in a blanket, Baudolino, sitting at a table by the
               open window toward the roofs of Paris, is about to start
               writing to Beatrice.

               Three narrow beds, chairs, a bench, and a wood-burning stove
               in the middle. Reclined on a bedpost, daydreaming, Abdul
               strikes cittern harmonies. Sitting on the bed, The Poet picks
               his nose.

               Baudolino watches the full moon over the city roofs. A flock
               of bats flies across the moon. He starts writing what is
               expected from him -- and keeping the reality to himself.
               Abdul strikes various harmonies, some disharmonies.

               MONTAGE: BAUDOLINO WRITES TO BEATRICE

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         Your Highness Beatrice, the
                         classroom...

               Active writing: "...classroom "

               -- Smoky tavern, boisterous PATRONS, one trying to keep up
               dancing on the FIDDLER'S tune.

                                   BAUDOLINO  (V.O.)
                         ... is cold, and we are there for
                         long hours.

               -- Baudolino and his friends drink. He pinches the butt of a
               20-YEAR-OLD WAITRESS, long, black braided hair. She whacks
               him friendly, leaves wiggling her buttocks.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         But the rhetoric debates are quite
                         useful. Some topics are worthy of
                         emphasis.

               -- The Poet laughs dumbly and follows the waitress's sexy
               moves. Abdul smirks demeaning at him.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         ... I study with my new friends,
                         The Poet, son of a Norman knight,
                         and Abdul, born in Syria.

               -- Baudolino draws his friends' attention to the fresh scar
               on his cheek, and calls for them to listen to his story.

               -- In the bed, under blankets, Baudolino makes love with a 40
               YEAR-OLD WOMAN.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         -- Sometimes... I study on my own.

               -- In the flowery decorated boudoir, suddenly, a noise at the
               door -- they turn their heads scared.

               -- A 60-YEAR-OLD, FAT BUTCHER, blood-stained apron, storms
               in, and lunges toward the bed with a hook in his hand.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         Quite often, I realize how ancient
                         histories repeat themselves in our
                         present lives.

               -- Baudolino grabs his clothing from the chair, runs to and
               escalates the open window's frame. The butcher swings the
               hook -- and slashes Baudolino's cheek before he jumps.

               BACK TO SCENE

               Cittern harmonious sound. Baudolino stops writing and looks
               at Abdul, who sings.

                                   ABDUL
                         O, my love, I call on you,
                         My mind turns insane,
                         My yearning clouds the sun,
                         The desert freezes --

                                   THE POET
                             (snickers)
                         Frozen dunes!?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         -- You didn't tell us where your
                         lover is.

               The glow of the flame in the stove play on Abdul's face. He
               daydreams the frequently imagined answer.  

               ABDUL IMAGINATION: LONGING LOVE

               The flames MORPH into the blaring sun over the desert heat
               waves. A caravan meanders through the dunes, a shugduf on one
               of the CAMELS.

               The shugduf sways on the camel's trot, its colorful fabric
               adornments fluttering. The black drapery is pulled over.
               Hand with a big red ring holding a black veil over half of
               her face, a YOUNG ARAB WOMAN (20) stares longingly at Abdul,
               as the caravan passes.

               Somnambulant, Abdul walks after the caravan. The desert dunes
               warp in the blaring sun.

               BACK TO SCENE

               Dying flames in the stove, sad harmony from the cittern.

               Abdul pulls a glass jar from under the bed, opens and dips a
               stick in it, then licks the greenish honey.

                                   THE POET
                         And now he wants to see her
                         undulating buttocks directly. Why
                         don't you go there instead?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         The dunes....Maybe that's the
                         direction to go... together....But
                         who knows where the Realm is?

                                   ABDUL
                             (whispering, intoxicated)
                         -- St. Victor Abbey -- Rabbi lost
                         tribes -- books....

               INT. PARIS - ST. VICTOR ABBEY - LIBRARY - NIGHT

               Through bookshelves and rows of tables, an OLD PRIEST guides
               Baudolino and The Poet to a table in a dark corner. RABBI
               SOLOMON (35), long beard, snoozes over an open manuscript.
               Baudolino bends over to draw his attention but stops. He
               nudges The Poet to look at the manuscript -- illustrations of
               mythical creatures, a one-legged Skiapod, elephantine-ears
               Panotian, and headless, eyes and mouth on the chest,
               Blemmyae.

               Rabbi senses them, wakes up, and hurriedly closes the
               manuscript.

                                   RABBI
                         This is not for everybody to see --
                         Who are you?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Students. Eager to learn about the 
                         Ten Lost Tribes of Israel...
                         hmmm... how far East they went.

                                   RABBI
                         Away, off the harms way. A sacred
                         land where life is forever in
                         harmony....Its King and Priest
                         Johannes, one of the Three Magi's
                         descendants.

                                   THE POET
                         A Priest could be a --

                                   RABBI
                         -- Yes, a powerful King! Emperors
                         went to him with letters and gifts
                         of gold... precious stones, to
                         settle alliances.

                                   THE POET
                             (interested)
                         He must be rich -- Who else knows
                         about this?

                                   RABBI
                         Boron but --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         -- When can we talk to him?

               Rabbi stands up to finish the conversation.

                                   RABBI
                         Maybe tomorrow -- I have to go now.
                         I'm hungry.

                                   THE POET AND BAUDOLINO
                         Wait, wait!

               They gently grab his arms and turn him around.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Allow us to show gratitude for your
                         superior knowledge. We offer a
                         better meal than the refectory.

               They rather drag the Rabbi out of the library.

               EXT. PARIS ROAD TO TAVERN - LATER

               The threesome approaches the Croix De Fer tavern. The Rabbi
               stops looking concerned at the big iron crosses.

                                   RABBI
                         Do they have kosher schnapps?

               The students look at each other and nod unconvincingly at
               Rabbi who suddenly changes his mind.

                                   RABBI
                         Not today....Today is Sabbath!

               EXT. PARIS - ST. GENEVIEVE ABBEY - DAY

               Led by Rabbi, Baudolino, The Poet, and Abdul walk through the
               portal of the abbey.

                                   RABBI
                         He is a vagrant religious scholar.
                         Today he's here, who knows where
                         tomorrow?

               INT. PARIS - ST. GENEVIEVE ABBEY - LATER

               Dark cell. The visitors stand by the bed of BORON (35), an
               ascetic figure. He sleeps with a beatific smile on his face --
               more of a rictus caused by a birth defect. Rabbi touches his
               shoulder.
                              BORON
                         Genevieve, my...
               He wakes up upset by the interruption.

                                   THE POET
                         Is she good-looking?

                                   BORON
                             (bad look at The Poet)
                         She was a saint! Her relics turned
                         into flesh and blood of the great
                         woman fighting the apocalyptic
                         nomads -- That's how you look,
                         apocalyptic!

                                   RABBI
                             (soothing)
                         Forgive their ignorance...
                         students, you know. They'd like to
                         learn more about Priest Johannes.

                                   BORON
                         I'm not interested in teaching
                         anybody. I'd rather go back to
                         sleep -- or rather eat.

                                   THE POET AND BAUDOLINO
                         Eat it is! Let's go eat.

               ABBEY REFECTORY - LATER

               THREE MONKS of various ages eat at one end of a long table. A
               loud argument goes on at the other end. Two of them turn
               their heads annoyed by the loud argument. The third one,
               ZOSIMOS (25), Greek profile, stubble beard, and long curly
               hair, is actually interested, and intently listens. He is a
               vagrant student and pathological liar.
               At the other end of the table, Rabbi and Boron argue. The
               others follow the argument while eating.

                                   RABBI
                         ... then, Priest Johannes went to
                         reconcile the Muslims, Jews, and
                         Latins... to the Holy Land of
                         Jerusalem --

                                   BORON
                         -- Not the Holy Land, the Holy
                         Seat, in Rome, to meet Pope
                         Calixtus... and stopped first in
                         Byzantium, Constantinople.

               Hearing "Constantinople", Zosimos takes his plate, joins the
               noisy group, and nudges The Poet to make room.

               KYOT (20), foxy face, enters the refectory. He is the type
               that wouldn't miss an occasion to make fun of a situation or
               person. He exchanges greeting nods with Boron, who waves him
               over.
                                  BAUDOLINO
                             (to Boron)
                         Could he still be alive?

               Zosimos stands up to say something, but The Poet pulls him
               down by the sleeve. Boron turns to Kyot.

                                   BORON
                             (to Kyot)
                         What do you know about him?

                                   KYOT
                         He came along the Silk Road but
                         stopped at Tigris... went back
                         loaded with the traders' gold and
                         reliquaries -- possibly the Holy
                         Grail.

               Silent astonishment in the group.

                                   THE POET
                         Let's go to him then as
                         ambassadors... with a letter from
                         Frederick Barb --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (struck by an idea)
                         -- No! No....Priest Johannes writes
                         the letter to Frederick Barbarossa.

               Surprise and confusion.

                                   KYOT
                             (mocking)
                         Will you tell him to write it?

               Laughter in the group. Baudolino shakes his head and calls
               everyone to get their heads closer.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (whispering)
                         We write it! As if from Priest
                         Johannes to Fredrick, inviting him
                         to an alliance....

               All faces turn from laughing to dumbstruck -- Kyot laughs
               harder. Zosimos smirks, thoughtful.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         And we go to him as Frederick's
                         emissaries, with the response
                         letter glorifying the alliance!

               INT. PARIS - MANSARD - NIGHT

               Rabbi, The Poet, and Baudolino sit at the table, the latter
               holding a quill. Abdul and Boron lie on beds, Kyot reclines
               on a bedpost.

                                   RABBI
                         The Realm is close to the Garden of
                         Eden. Those people speak the
                         language of Adam.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Forget about the language of Adam!
                         I'll rewrite the draft in Latin.
                         For now, let me hear your ideas.
                         Abdul, help us a bit.

               Abdul gets the jar from under the bed, opens it, dips a stick
               in it, and licks it.

                                   ABDUL
                         We must see those magic lands
                         directly.

               The Poet goes next. The others are intrigued but follow suit
               by licking and humming. Their faces from tense to blissful.
               Rabbi abstains.

                                   RABBI
                         I know better methods. I can roll
                         on my tongue the letters of the
                         secret name of the Lord until my
                         thoughts start spinning.

               - LATER

               Baudolino hands over the quill to Abdul. Boron, Kyot, and The
               Poet roam around, bumping into each other, voicing visions
               with ample body language, garbling, and asking Abdul to write
               down. Baudolino filters their ideas and directs Abdul.

                                   KYOT
                         -- like the Templar Temple in
                         Jerusalem... great hall illuminated
                         by torches  --

                                   RABBI
                         -- The Temple of Ezekiel... built
                         with nails and glue --

                                   THE POET
                             (to Rabbi)
                         -- Sacrilege! Nails and glue? The
                         richness of his palace must be
                         beyond those of any sovereign.

                                   ABDUL
                         -- The  palace with jasper stone
                         foundations... in the Garden of
                         Eden --

                                   BORON
                         -- Temple Mount in Jerusalem ...
                         deep well of Jewish, Christian, and
                         Muslim souls.

               - LATER

               Everybody has or is about to fall asleep. Kyot is hit by one
               more vision.

                                   KYOT
                         -- Holy Grail on the pedestal --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         -- enough, I'll start the draft
                         now.

               He reads Abdul's notes, gets a parchment, and starts writing.

MONTAGE: BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION. PRIEST JOHANNES'S FAKE LETTER

-- Active, calligraphic writing: "I King and ... PRIEST JOHANNES (V.O.) (powerful voice, echo) Priest Johannes... -- The top of the Babylon look-alike tower shines in a sky surrounded by translucent, white wing-like clouds. PRIEST JOHANNES (V.O.) ...by the power and grace of God and of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of a land... -- Around the tower, beautiful meadows with flowers emanate scent plumes by meandering rivers of milk and honey. PRIEST JOHANNES (V.O.) ... where colored rivers of milk and honey sweeten the minds of people living in the harmony of with respect of everything that God created.... -- Inside the tower, in the round nave of the church, MEN, WOMEN, and MYTHICAL PANOTIAN and BLEMMYAE creatures, draped in colorful robes, sit on richly decorated pews. PRIEST JOHANNES (V.O.) ....And I, Master of the Temple... -- PRIEST JOHANNES (150), white beard and mustache, tiara resembling a king's crown, patriarchal clothing, sits on a throne reading the letter. PRIEST JOHANNES ...of the Universal Religion... -- The sun shining through the open dome bathes in light the Holy Grail, Menorah, Bowl of Prophet Muhammad, and Kanishka Casket with Buddha statue atop, set on four high pedestals behind the throne. Precious stones encrusted in the walls sparkle. PRIEST JOHANNES ... Temple with the gems of the world to brighten the most precious relics of Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Buddhism. -- Priest Johannes stops reading and nods at the people in the auditorium -- people nod obediently. PRIEST JOHANNES I write to you, Frederick Ist, The Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, wishing you good health and perpetual enjoyment of the divine benediction from God, and inviting you to an alliance with our powers... -- People and creatures nod in approval. -- Priest Johannes stands up. PRIEST JOHANNES ... where the riches of the land could be measured only by the number of stars in the sky and grains of sand in the sea. -- The people and creatures cheer and applaud in adulation. BACK TO SCENE Active, calligraphic writing: "...sand in the sea." Baudolino raises the parchment in glorious admiration, then mimics sealing it. Abdul sleeps with his head on the table, the others wherever the green honey struck them numb, on the beds or floor. Door slamming distracts Baudolino. The Poet wakes up, looks annoyed at Zosimos, then goes back to sleep. ZOSIMOS I'm late, but I know things that you must write about. BAUDOLINO Too late, we finished it. He shows it to Zosimos from a safe distance. ZOSIMOS Ahh! Be careful! It must be written on papyrus, not parchment. Here! He takes a small papyrus scroll from his bag, then squints at the letter. BAUDOLINO (yawning) Why do we need it? ZOSIMOS To look real. It's Greek papyrus, used in Orient. (squinting at the letter) Wait! Why is it not addressed to both emperors, Fredrick and Manuel of Byzantium? BAUDOLINO Because I want Europe and Byzantium to pay the respect deserved to my father, the Western Holy Roman Emperor. Baudolino takes the scroll, wraps the letter, and, tired, lays his head on the table and closes his eyes. Zosimos waits, thoughtful. Baudolino's hand twitches and releases the hold of the letter. Zosimos looks around -- everybody sleeps -- pulls out a small booklet from his bag, cautiously gets the letter, and starts copying it. When finished, he leaves a note and tiptoes out. INT. PARIS - MANSARD - MORNING People wake up one by one, sleepy, with hangovers. Baudolino reads Zosimos' note and nudges Abdul. BAUDOLINO Zosimos went to Constantinople to prepare for the pilgrimage... says he's got a map to the Realm. Hmm... stupid! I have to make the letter believable, officially... talk with Fredrick -- THE POET -- How quickly can you do it? INT. REGENSBURG FORTRESS - PARLOUR ROOM - DAY SUPER: "AUGUST 1167. BACK TO REGENSBURG" The Emperor slouches in a chair by the massive table on the side of the room. He looks at a map laid out on the table. Rahewin stands by him, pointing on the map. Behind them, the room opens toward the antechamber and a long corridor. TWO GUARDS stand guard at the far end of it. The guards at the far end of the corridor let somebody pass. Baudolino advances to the antechamber and stops at the entrance to the parlor. In the middle of the room, Beatrice plays with Bea, now FIVE YEARS-OLD, and the blond, ONE-YEAR-OLD SON. The TWO-YEARS-OLD SON, red hair, plays with a horse toy. RAHEWIN ... It is worthy of the chronicle to describe how you defeated the guards of St. Peter church, Pope Alexander fleeing in a poor man's cloth -- EMPEROR (distressed) -- Worthy of what? Of my army being decimated by the black plague? Then -- Rahewin senses Baudolino's presence and turns. The Emperor turns as well, brightens up, stands up, and extends his arms to greet Baudolino. EMPEROR -- Welcome back! Baudolino does not respond, stands still. BAUDOLINO (stone-faced) The plague was the wrath of God for your desecrating St. Peter's church with the bloodshed on its high altar! EMPEROR (defensive at Beatrice, then the map) I had to oust Pope Alexander! He was getting the Italians allied against me, in this... Lombard League! And seeking an alliance with Byzantium! (recovering, angry) -- How dare you to question my actions? BAUDOLINO Father! You have to stop the skirmishes with the Italians. Ally yourself with Priest Johannes... to govern both Europe and Byzantium from a position of prestige and power. EMPEROR (upset) Uggh! Your Priest Johannes, another priest! Where on earth? BAUDOLINO A Realm beyond the Ganges... (looking at Rahewin) we have -- Rahewin frowns with a short, sharp head shake. Baudolino leaves the sentence unfinished and embraces the Emperor. The Emperor responds in kind and whispers to Baudolino's ear -- scar on cheek. EMPEROR (in good humor) You're a weasel too! The only one allowed to talk to me like that! They walk to the kids, who yell. Beatrice stands up and greets Baudolino. He stares at her, and she touches his scar. Rahewin discreetly tilts his head at Baudolino. BISHOP OFFICE - LATER "Gesta Friderici Imperatoris" book, papers, writing utensils on Otto's old desk, now Rahewin's. He opens the drawer, takes out a leather tube, the rolled papyrus from it, and looks appreciatively at the texture of the papyrus and the seal. RAHEWIN (quizzical)) Otto was right then....But how did it make it to you... through the official channels? Baudolino wants to explain, but Rahewin raises his hand. RAHEWIN I know that whatever you say, you want everybody to believe it is true! The Emperor must find out about it from the chancery first. BAUDOLINO You must be careful. This is a highly important, strategic matter. Time is of the essence! Start talking with Ottone Morena. In the meanwhile, I'll write a proposal for Frederick's response. RAHEWIN It's not the right time now! Frederick is distressed by the plague in Rome decimating his army. BAUDOLINO It is the best time. This alliance will stop shedding blood and punishment from God. In doubt, Rahewin puts the letter in the leather tube, the tube in the drawer, and closes -- the drawer. EXT. LEGNANO BATTLEFIELD - DAY SUPER: "MAY 1176. LEGNANO BATTLE FIELD"

               An ax about to strike a sword.

                                   PEASANT (V.O.)
                             (in Italian; subtitled)
                         Son of a bitch!!

               Baudolino (36), short beard, fends and throws off the ax of
               the poor man, 50-YEAR-OLD PEASANT, who falls on his four and
               attempts to pick up the ax.

               With the flat of the sword Baudolino hits the ass of the
               running peasant who's pants fall halfway.

               The peasant runs in the distance. Heavy clouds in the sky,
               windy. GERMAN and ITALIAN SOLDIERS' corpses on the ground.
               GERMAN SOLDIERS run in disarray toward a small knoll, some
               wounded, some chased by HORSE-RIDING ITALIAN Lombards.

               A galloping LOMBARD FIGHTER (30), stops close to Baudolino.

               At the same time, a GERMAN SOLDIER (25), blood-stained
               uniform, runs by Baudolino and points back at the forest.

                                   GERMAN SOLDIER
                             (in German; subtitled;
                              desperate)
                         The Emperor is dead... we lost the
                         Emperor!

               Baudolino looks toward the forest, then takes a fighting
               stance toward the Lombard Fighter.

                                   LOMBARD FIGHTER
                             (in Italian; subtitled)
                         You fool! Can't you see that we
                         screwed your Emperor! Go home!

               Baudolino gives up fighting and runs into the forest.

               LEGNANO FOREST - LATER

               Baudolino scrambles through trees' trunks, thickets, and dead
               bodies, some armored. HORSES trot around. 

               At a melee of corpses, he uncovers  Frederick -- mud and
               blood on his face.

               - LATER

               On the back of the horse's saddle, Baudolino supports the
               wounded  Emperor -- a resemblance to the Emperor holding the
               kid Baudolino in Terdona forest.

                                   EMPEROR
                             (feeble)
                         ... and this letter... Where is it?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (to Emperor's ear, softly)
                         Bishop of Harthausen got it from
                         Rahewin. They were -- we were
                         waiting for the best moment to
                         discuss it with you... then notify
                         the European chancelleries.
                            

                                   EMPEROR
                             (falling asleep) 
                         A far away Realm....My enemies so
                         close... peace with them...
                         humiliation from Pope Alexander. 

               INT. VENICE - SAN MARCO BASILICA - DAY
               SUPER: "MARCH 1177. PEACE OF VENICE"
               POPE ALEXANDER III (72) sits on the throne set on a two
               stepped platform in front of the choir. The Pope looks behind
               him to stop the scuffle of TWO ITALIAN ARCHBISHOPS fighting
               for the honorable position to his right.

               At the faraway entrance, the small silhouette of the Emperor
               projected on the San Marco square with cheering crowds. He
               proceeds through the porch. Silence.

               The Emperor (55), long beard, steps mournfully in the
               darkness of the nave. The silence is broken by the NOBLEMEN
               and WOMEN standing up from the pews.

               He crosses the transept bathed in the sunrays coming through
               the windows. Arrived at the platform, he kneels on the first
               step. On the second, Pope's red shoes.

               The Pope looks down at the Emperor, paternally.

               The Emperor bends and -- his lips touch the Pope's red shoe,
               the kiss of the humiliated. The organ blasts TE DEUM
               LAUDAMUS. The audience cheers.
               The Pope stands and helps the Emperor up. The audience
               falls quiet, the organ plays pianissimo.

                                   POPE ALEXANDER III
                             (in Latin; subtitled)
                         Son of the Church, be welcome!

               EXT. VENICE - SAN MARCO SQUARE - LATER

               Head down, the Emperor leads the Pope's horse through the
               cheering crowd.

               INT. VENICE - DOGE PALACE ROOM - LATER

               Distressed, The Emperor walks in followed by the DOGE OF
               VENICE(65) BISHOP ALBERT OF FREISING (30), Baudolino, The
               Poet (32), and Abdul (30). Paintings and tapestries on the
               walls, chandeliers, windows open toward the Canaletto
               channel. 

                                   DOGE
                             (to the Emperor, angry)
                         ...and the Byzantine pirates keep
                         attacking our ships....

                                   DOGE
                         They even stole our Winged Lion of
                         the St. Mark statue!

               Still distressed, the Emperor pays only marginal attention.
               The Doge waves at the SPY MAN (30), rough appearance,
               standing by the door.

                                   DOGE
                         And now this!

               The Spy Man approaches, bows and hands over an unsealed
               letter to the Emperor, who takes it hesitantly.

                                   SPY MAN
                         I found it at the house of a Greek
                         vagrant. He confessed to being
                         about to deliver it to the offices
                         of the Byzantine Emperor Manuel
                         Ist.

               Confused, the Emperor unwraps it.

                                   EMPEROR
                             (handing it to Baudolino)
                         A Greek letter.

                                   SPY MAN
                         He said that it was from a Priest
                         ... ughh... Johannes.

               Baudolino is aghast, reads the letter. The Poet and Abdul
               lean over, furtively looking at each other, miffed.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         It's fake! Somebody intercepted the
                         Latin original, translated it into
                         Greek, and changed the addressee.
                         Rahewin had the real letter and a
                         proposal of a response to it from
                         you. He kept keeping them locked in
                         a drawer. 
                             (looking at Albert)
                         And now...

               The Emperor looks questioningly at Albert, who swallows his
               words.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (thinking fast, searching
                              for the right words)
                         Father!... Otto was right about
                         Priest Johannes. Rahewin though
                         was... hesitant on its urgency. But
                         the more we wait, the more we
                         expose ourselves to... dangerous
                         diplomatic situations.

               Nodding in the group confirms the argument.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (to Albert)
                         Don't hesitate, hurry up!
                         Present the letters to the Emperor.
                             (to Emperor, then his
                              pals)
                         And Father... please let us be your
                         emissaries to the King's Realm.

                                   EMPEROR
                             (to Albert)
                         Do what the weasel says, make sure
                         he has the money all along.

               INT. REGENSBURG FORTRESS - BISHOP OFFICE - DAY
               SUPER: "NOVEMBER 1187. REGENSBURG FORTRESS"

               Same old desks, different books on shelves, new Bishops
               paintings on walls. Standing, Baudolino (46) listens to
               BISHOP OTTO VON BERG (35), who sits at the big desk.

                                   OTTO VON BERG
                             (calm)
                         ... diplomatic priorities --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (furious)
                         -- Diplomatic priorities! Again? Do
                         you know what a "diplomatic
                         disasters" is? Bishop Albert
                         witnessed one about to happen in
                         Venice!

                                   OTTO VON BERG
                             (dismissive)
                         There are worse disasters than
                         diplomatic... everywhere, right
                         now.

               He opens the drawer of the big desk. Inside, side by side,
               "Gesta Frederici I Imperatoris" manuscript and two leather
               tubes, one red. He dusts off the red one with a kerchief and
               takes out the -- Emperor-sealed parchment letter.

                                   OTTO VON BERG
                         It looks like this letter is more
                         important to you than to the
                         Emperor.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (angry; pointing at one
                              portrait)
                         This alliance was Bishop Otto von
                         Freising vision --

                                   OTTO VON BERG
                             (ironical)
                         -- Your Otto was a dreamer excited
                         by his own achievements...
                             (pulling Gesta Frederici
                              manuscript out )
                         ... He glorified Frederick as the
                         "Prince of Peace" anointed by God.
                             (smirk)
                         He was better off just as a Son of
                         the Church.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (persuasive)
                         "My Otto" fought in the Second
                         Crusade. I fought along the
                         Emperor's wars, and we all
                         understood the hardship of
                         achieving... peace. But after
                         Rahewin, Bishop after Bishop,
                         didn't know better and passed on
                         the opportunity.
                             (soothing)
                         Aren't you supposed to promote this
                         alliance with another powerful "Son
                         of the Church"?

                                   OTTO VON BERG
                             (standing up)
                         Now? We have quite worrisome
                         situations in Jerusalem and
                         Byzantium. Not a good time! We'll
                         have to wait.

               He returns the parchment letter in the red tube, the tube
               into the drawer, and closes it looking at Baudolino.

               EXT. MAINZ - RHINE RIVER BANK - DAY
               SUPER: "MARCH 1188. DIET OF MAINZ"              
               Sunny, cold day. Riding HORSES, the Emperor, his natural son
               FREDERICK VI DUKE OF SWABIA (21), and Baudolino lead a suite
               of NOBLEMEN and armed GUARDS. In the background, the Rhine
               river flows by the city of Mainz and its St. Martin
               Cathedral.

               From afar, a MESSENGER gallops his HORSE to catch up with the
               suite. He talks to a FLAG BEARER soldier, who points toward
               the head of the suite.

                                   EMPEROR
                         Survival of Christianity is at
                         stake. -- England and France just
                         ended their silly betrothal and
                         guardianship wars... They'll take
                         the cross!

               The Messenger (60), a poorly dressed man, talks with a
               NOBLEMAN, who points at Baudolino.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (to Emperor)
                         The Italians will join us --

                                   EMPEROR
                             (deriding)
                         -- My beloved Italians! Afraid of
                         losing their trade interests with
                         Constantinople... if it falls next.

               The Messenger rides alongside Baudolino, who turns his head.

                                   MESSENGER
                             (sad)
                         Sire Baudolino, your father.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         My father?

               The Emperor nods to Baudolino to ride aside. The Duke Of
               Swabia joins them, waving at the noblemen to march on.

                                   MESSENGER
                         He's ill... very ill, Sire.

               Baudolino lowers his head, then looks at the Emperor, who
               nods.

                                   EMPEROR
                             (to Baudolino)
                         Go. Show your father how I've kept
                         my promise.

               He removes the golden chain from his neck and gives it to
               Baudolino. The Duke Of Swabia is mystified -- because he
               dislikes Baudolino.

               Baudolino bows in gratitude, nods at Duke Of Swabia -- blank
               stare -- and rides away followed by the Messenger.

               The Emperor watches the riders disappearing in the distance.
               He turns the horse around and rides toward Mainz.

               EXT. TERDONA - GALIAUDO SCHACK- DAY

               Rain and wind. Baudolino dismounts and rushes to the shack.
               The pen stakes are fallen, and there is no haystack on
               ground. The cow Rosina stands by the shack door.

               INT. MAINZ - ST. MARTIN CATHEDRAL - SAME TIME

               The Emperor, his son Duke of Swabia, DUKE LEOPOLD V OF
               AUSTRIA (34), and LOUIS III OF THURINGIA (36) sit on the
               front choirstalls. The CLERGY in the middle stalls and the
               NOBLEMEN in the back argue sitting or standing.

               POPE PAOLO CLEMENT III (60) sits on the throne, and the
               ARCHBISHOPS OF TYRE JOSCIUS(58) and COLOGNE (58) stand next
               to him.

               Gathering brouhaha. Sunrays shine through the stained glass
               windows at the top of the apse walls.

               INT. TERDONA - GALIAUDO SHACK - SAME TIME

               Small, dirty windows, dark, untidy interior. The sickly
               Galiaudo (73), unshaved, white, thin hair rumpled, reclines
               in bed against a pillow, covered by blankets. On a chair by
               the bed, a candle -- wax melted down and flame dying off -- a
               piece of bread, and a wooden bowl. Baudolino sits on a stool.

                                   GALIAUDO
                         (in Italian; subtitled; more to
                         himself)
                         ....I forgot where I've left the
                         fork. Rosina... how am I going to
                         feed her? -- Time for me to go -- 

               Baudolino touches his father's hand.   

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (in Italian; subtitled)
                         -- Don't give up father, wait for
                         my return.
                             (showing the chain from
                              the Emperor)
                         -- Look, the Emperor sends me
                         to the Realm of the Universal
                         Religion. I'll bring you the cup of
                         Jesus, all studded with precious
                         stones... the Holy Grail!

               INT. MAINZ - ST. MARTIN CATHEDRAL - SAME TIME

               Brouhaha continues. The Pope stands up. Silence.

                                   POPE CLEMENT III
                         On the Court Day of Jesus Christ, a
                         time of resurrection and
                         forgiveness, I call for the
                         suppression of the insane struggle
                         for dominance within Europe,
                         between the church and empire,
                         between the empire and the cities,
                         and between the cities
                         themselves....We had debilitated
                         ourselves to the point of losing
                         Jerusalem, the cradle of our faith.
                         We have to take it back, restore
                         the church of Constantine and
                         protect the stones of the holy tomb
                         from which Jesus Christ had
                         resurrected!

               The Emperor and the Dukes join their swords in sermon.

                                   EMPEROR
                         I, Frederick The First, Holy Roman
                         Emperor, crowned by the grace of
                         God...

               The Pope frowns, annoyed.

                                   EMPEROR
                         ... take the cross and raise my
                         sword to call for His Grace to
                         bless the Holy Cross of the Army
                         and the Army of the Holy Cross.             
               INT. TERDONA - GALIAUDO SHACK - SAME TIME

               Galiaudo laughs sickly.

                                   GALIAUDO
                             (in Italian, subtitled,
                              mocking)
                         Lies, fantasies of... precious
                         stones....Jesus, a poor man
                         drinking from such a cup?

               He picks up the wooden bowl and shows it to Baudolino with a
               trembling hand.

                                   GALIAUDO
                             (in Italian; subtitled)
                         His cup must've been just like this
                         bowl.

               Tired, he looks into the bowl. A golden glow from it
               illuminates his face. He smiles at the blissful vision.

                                   GALIAUDO
                             (tender whisper)
                         Rosina....

               He drops the bowl and dies. Baudolino kneels, gently closes
               his father's eyes, and crosses himself.

               He picks up the cup from the floor, looks inside. A golden
               glow illuminates his face. He raises the bowl and  -- in the
               MIND OF HIS EYE -- a blast of light opens the shack ceiling
               toward a heavenly night sky.              
               INT. MAINZ - ST. MARTIN CATHEDRAL - SAME TIME

               The Emperor holds high his sword by the blade -- symbol of
               the Christian cross, a precious stone of the handle gleaming
               in the sun rays.

                                   AUDIENCE (O.S.)
                         Burst of cheers.

               EXT. MEDITERRANEAN SEA - GALLEYS - DAY

               The cross symbol of the Third Crusade on the tight sails of
               the French and English galleys.
              EXT. AEGEAN SEA - TRADING COG - DAY

               The cog slowly sails through dense fog.

               At the tiller, the burly CAPTAIN (50) squints to see through.

               On the forecastle, the pilgrims roam from port to starboard
               dressed in oriental clothing: The Poet (44), a Turkish
               merchant with a blue caftan, Abdul (42), a high-ranking

               Eunuch, shaved head, Kyot (45), an affluent Lebanese
               traveler, Boron (60), an Orthodox priest, Rabbi Solomon (60),
               an Ethiopian priest, white cloak and turban.

               INT. LOWER DECK - PASSENGER CABIN

               The thick fog drifts down the ladder from the upper deck.

               Bunkbeds and few small barrels, the leather and the red tubes
               on one of them, the bundle of parchments and a travel bag on
               another one. Baudolino takes the papyrus letter from the
               leather tube, wraps it over the sealed parchment letter, and
               inserts them into the red tube. He straps the red tube tight
               between his shoulder blades and puts on a Persian dignitary
               coat.

               He climbs up through the ladder fog to the upper deck...

               EXT. UPPER DECK - CONTINUOUS

               and joins his pals.

                                   CAPTAIN
                             (laughing at Baudolino)
                         That's better for blending in the
                         Byzantine crowd.

               Constantinople minarets, white castles, and houses gradually
               appear through the dissipating fog. St. Sofia's golden dome
               shines in sunrise.

                                   CAPTAIN
                             (to crew)
                         Dip the Genoan, raise Arnoan.

               The crew switches flags.

               The chain between the Towers of Galata and Eugenius is
               lowered, and the ship sails on the Golden Horn waters.
              The cog approaches the Boukoleon Palace dock, the lion
               attacking a bull statue atop two tall columns.

               EXT. CONSTANTINOPLE - BOUKOLEON PALACE DOCK - DAY

               Two YOUNG VARANGIAN MERCENARIES lead Baudolino, The Poet, and
               Abdul through the CROWD of TRADERS, CLERICS, and NOBLEMEN
               walking on the dock.

               INT. BOUKOLEON PALACE ROOM - DAY

               The Armenian baron ARDZROUNI (40), imposing stature, dark
               skin, thick lips, black trimmed beard, Baudolino, Abdul, and
               The Poet sit on ottomans.
               A Young Varangian stands guard by the door. Small room,
               draperies, divans, pillows, and tables on the mosaic floor.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         The Emperor will cross Thracia in
                         the fall...

               His finger traces a map route from Hungary through Thracia,
               Galipoli, Iconium, and Jerusalem.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         ... Dardanelles to Byzantium then
                         Seljuks Sultanate, Jerusalem in the
                         summer of next year. -- The German
                         envoy sent last year was to
                         negotiate the safe passage and
                         access to supplies.

               Doubtful about what he heard, Ardzrouni pulls up one of his
               maps.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         Safe passage?....Isaak imprisoned
                         the envoys on arrival, and now he
                         set an ambush in Thracia...
                             (finger on the map)
                         at Philippopolis. Supplies? He
                         plans to use poisoned bushels of
                         grains and jars of wine to...
                         "welcome" the Emperor.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (suggestive)
                         What do we need to know about
                         Isaak?

               Ardzrouni calls over the Young Varangian.

                                   YOUNG VARANGIAN
                             (foxy)
                         His brother, Alexius Angelus, plans
                         to overthrow him... you know, gouge
                         his eyes, as the routine goes.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Will he?

                                   YOUNG VARANGIAN
                             (chuckling)
                         He's cautious and very
                         superstitious. He'll have a secret
                         meeting in the Zoodochos catacombs
                         with a Greek monk, Zosimos.

               Baudolino is pleasantly surprised by hearing that name, and
               The Poet and Abdul exchange meaningful looks.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (to Ardzrouni)
                         I am riding back to Thracia to
                         advise the Emperor on the ambush --
                             (to The Poet and Abdul)
                         You get Zosimos's map, then put him
                         in chains.

               INT. ZOODOCHOS PEGE CATACOMB - NIGHT

               Barely visible in the darkness, The Poet and Abdul climb down
               cautiously the narrow marble steps. Water lapping sound. They
               go by a clear water channel and a candle on an altar, then
               disappear through an opening in a wall. 
They tiptoe on a narrow corridor toward a faintly lighted, large room. Sound of steps and voices, they stop. ALEXIUS (59), burly, richly dressed, and TWO GUARDS advance into the round room of the catacomb. Zosimos waits in front of two large bowls with burning fires. Six feet behind the bowls, a round marble basin with water and many small, lit candles on its lip. A wrought iron chandelier hangs on a pulley above the basin. Zosimos bows with deference to Alexius. ALEXIUS You know what I want....To undo his wrongs! ZOSIMOS The spirit of Hammurabi the Wise will bring the spell of all the right things... to undo the wrongs. Alexius takes a -- gold ring from his finger -- and hands it over to Zosimos, who walks to the basin. He attaches the ring to a string hanging from the chandelier, pulls down on the pulley, and stops -- the ring just above the water. He calls Alexius over and lowers the ring -- ripples on the water surface. Zosimos raises his hands, intoning in a trance for a while. ZOSIMOS (sepulchral) Eye for eye is right! ALEXIOS Who's eye? Must be his! Right? Still in a trance, Zosimos rotates his head -- as if taking the question -- starts a new intonation. The candles suddenly go off, and the white plumes form letter like patterns. Zosimos seems to be reading the letters. ZOSIMOS (sepulchral) Hammurabi does not understand the question. Furious, Alexius squashes a couple of the basin candles, yanks his ring from the strings, and leaves followed by the guards. ZOSIMOS (running after him) Don't take the ring! It belongs to Hammurabi's world. Loud bumping from the basin pedestal. A section of it bursts open, and a DWARF stumbles out through thick fumes. The Poet and Abdul rush into the room. Scared, Zosimos falls back on one of the bowl fires, his cloak catches fire, and the Dwarf runs away. The Poet hits Zosimos's cloak flames forcefully with the flat of his sword. THE POET We came just in time to save you from burning alive. EXT. DARDANELLES STRAIT - GALLIPOLI - DAY SUPER: "MARCH 1190. DARDANELLES STRAIT" Sunny day. Crusader contingents wait to embark on the Western shore, others cross the strait on triremes and galleys. One contingent marches on the Eastern shore. The Emperor, Duke Of Swabia, and Baudolino ride at the avant- garde of TEMPLARS and KNIGHTS -- mighty, healthy, and with shining armors. The Third Crusade banners and flags flutter. Ardzrouni rides away from the pilgrims' group to greet them. BAUDOLINO Father....May I introduce Baron Ardzrouni of the Cilician Principate. ARDZROUNI (to the Emperor) The Lord Leon of Cilicia welcomes your arrival in Byzantium. We vouch for your safety along the shore and through Cilicia. EMPEROR Thank you! Your Christian land deserves to become a Kingdom and your Prince a King -- The route along the shore is too long. We'll get through Seljuk Sultanate, supplies from Iconium, then rest... before taking Jerusalem back. ARDZROUNI We'll pray for that! Lord Leon's army and supplies will then wait for you at my castle, in Mut. BAUDOLINO (to The Poet) Did you get his map? Baudolino rides away to greet his friends waiting on HORSES. On a MULE, Zosimos -- with hands chained. THE POET No, he lied a couple of times about its place. There is no map! ZOSIMOS (to Baudolino) But I have it in my mind. I know how to get there. Please release -- BAUDOLINO -- Stupid liar. And thief! You stole the letter! (to all) Ardzrouni shouldn't know about the letter and our mission, for now. He returns to the Emperor's suite, and meets Ardzrouni mid way. BAUDOLINO We'll see you three months from now. ARDZROUNI God willing!

EXT. SALEPH RIVER - MUT CASTLE - DAY SUPER: "JUNE 9, 1190. SALEPH RIVER" Knights and Templars ride tired -- faces sweating under the scorching heat -- armors damaged and dirty. Wounded and with torn uniforms, the infantry soldiers march exhausted. Disheveled, Baudolino adjusts the strap of the wounded hand. The Duke of Swabia draws air into his lungs -- a bruised jaw and broken tooth. Ardzrouni, cleanly dressed, and THREE ARMENIAN YOUNG GUARDS lightly armed, lead the Emperor's group up toward a plateau. At the top, the group scans the valley landscape, Mut Castle, and the meandering Saleph river. EMPEROR (to Duke Of Swabia) You'll camp on that higher ground, upstream of the river turn. DUKE OF SWABIA (suspicious) Father, I'd rather stay with you... for protection. Baudolino feels the Duke's distrust and remains silent. EMPEROR (to Duke Of Swabia) You need to camp with the troops. Baudolino and Ardzrouni guards are sufficient protection. We are on Christian land now. Relax! He scans the river -- some rough flowing spots. EXT. MUT CASTLE - STEPPED PATH - DAY The Armenian guards, followed by Ardzrouni, The Emperor, and Baudolino, climb up the narrow, spiraling, stepped path carved into the mountain rock. At the top, The Poet and Abdul bow as the Emperor walks through the thick wooden gates. COURTYARD - CONTINUOUS The Emperor looks around and up at the crenels. Baudolino embraces Kyot, Rabbi, and Boron. EMPEROR (to Ardzrouni) I don't see your soldiers on the ramparts. ARDZROUNI Your Highness, the castle has natural defenses. It needs only a few people to complement them. The Poet and Baudolino exchange concerned looks. INT. CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS The group walks by portraits of noblemen and women, and lighted torches on walls. Two of the Armenian Guards position themselves behind the Emperor and Ardzrouni. The Poet and Baudolino elbow them aside to take that position. Ardzrouni stops in front of an ornamented, large double gate, a pedestal with a bowl on its side, woven branches inside, and a small metal pot hinged to it. He theatrically flips the pot -- liquid flows into the bowl -- lights the liquid with a torch, raises his arms above the fire, then turns toward the door. SUBLIMINAL flame flows down through tubes, mechanisms clutch, valve opens, CLINKS and CLANKS, water boils and GURGLES, steam HISSES rising on thicker tubes. ARDZROUNI Fotiá, fotiá, fotiá, me ti dýnami ton trión, dóse mou ti dýnami tis fotiás. He opens his arms wide, and the door slowly opens toward the armory with a faint HISS. EMPEROR What trick might this one be? The pilgrims wonder, Kyot smirks. Ardzrouni smiles and waves at the Emperor to follow him. ARMORY - CONTINUOUS Armors and benches on the floor, hunting trophies and swords on the walls. FOUR OLD GUARDS stand at attention. At the far end, another door. On the right, stairs going down, on the left, stairs going up, Zosimos chained at the bottom. The Emperor makes the sign of throat slashing -- Zosimos balks. Ardzrouni invites to be followed downstairs. UNDERGROUND CORRIDOR - MOMENTS LATER Ardzrouni opens a door. Cams and gears engaged in moving, steam HISSING. A vertical rod spins, then stops with a THUD. ARDZROUNI The power of the fire and water on earth opened the gate... and heats the floors in the winter. May I show you my vacuum installations? EMPEROR There is a big vacuum in my stomach now, and we are all tired. DINING ROOM - LATER TWO SERVANTS carve roast pig and serve it to the chatting guests. TWO OTHER SERVANTS pour wine in goblets. The Emperor at one end of the table, Baudolino and the Poet next to him on the sides, Ardzrouni at the other end. The Emperor is about to start eating. BAUDOLINO Please wait! He takes a piece of meat from the Emperor's plate, and The Poet a sample of wine from the goblet. The Emperor shakes his head, no need to. BAUDOLINO Father, we have to do it. Chatter stops, suspense. The others look into their plates, concerned about themselves, then watch Baudolino and The Poet. Boron gives a small vial to The Poet. BORON Strong antidote. ARDZROUNI (offended) Your Highness, I put my life as warrant to my Armenian Prince Leo, against your harm! My young servants are the sons of parents I had saved the life of. They would give their life to protect you. Relaxed, the guests are ready to eat, but... EMPEROR (agreeable) Let's pray. Prayer. Elated by prayers, but dominated by hunger, everybody is ready to eat. But Ardzrouni wants to toast. ARDZROUNI In the name of Prince Leo, who will join us tomorrow, and my close friend Queen Tamar of Georgia who excuses herself for not being able to join us. To the victory of the Third Crusade's... and in honor of these brave fellows! A new attempt to start eating is arrested by Baudolino who, red tube in hand, wants to toast as well. BAUDOLINO And to our pilgrimage to the Universal Religion Realm. For the alliance between its powerful King, Priest Johannes and our Emperor! Ardzrouni just found out about it and nods impressed. Finally, everybody starts eating. - LATER The Emperor is sated, sleepy. He stands up, the other follow. EMPEROR (to Ardzrouni) Wonderful dinner. The vacuum had been filled. I need to sleep now. ARMORY - LATER The group walks through the armory. The guards stand up. ARDZROUNI (to Emperor) The guards will safeguard your bedroom. BAUDOLINO (to Abdul, Kyot, Boron, and Rabbi) Take turns to watch the guards. At the bottom of the stairs to the bedroom, Zosimos raises his chained hands, pleading for release. The Emperor, Baudolino, and The Poet climb up, ignoring him. BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS Baudolino and The Poet scout the room: religious tapestries, paintings carved wood columns, a bed in an alcove by the door, a sculpted stone fireplace mantel, bookshelves on one side, a wood cubicle on the other. The Emperor looks intrigued at the fireplace mantel -- a big sculpted ornamental human head with an open mouth. ARDZROUNI The Dionysus Ear, Your Highness. My secret way of listening to the gossip of the guards. A hole in the armory ceiling and a duct up to the open mouth and... errr, to my ear. The Poet opens a tall stained-glass window. Outside, a big concave mirror. The Emperor sees it and turns to Ardzrouni. ARDZROUNI This is an Archimedes mirror, my other line of defense. It will burn an enemy coming up on the narrow stairs to the castle... more reasons for fewer guards. Baudolino looks behind the tapestries hanging on the walls. The Poet inspects the bookshelf, pulls a book out, a camouflaged door opens, he walks through and disappears. Ardzrouni walks the Emperor toward the cubicle. ARDZROUNI Talking about your most personal needs, Your Highness, this cubicle will ease the works of your bowels. Sleepy, The Emperor nods and turns his attention to toward the alcove bed. Ardzrouni sees the camouflaged door open, pushes the book back, the door closes. BAUDOLINO Father, I and The Poet will sleep outside, by the door. I'll wait to hear your locking it. He searches around for The Poet. Muffled knocking from the camouflaged door. Annoyed, Ardzrouni goes to the bookshelf and pushes the book out, the door opens, and The Poet comes out sheepishly. Baudolino and The Poet take pillows from a stack and, together with Ardzrouni, leave the room. BEDROOM LANDING - CONTINUOUS Ardzrouni farewells and leaves. Baudolino listens to the door, the latch locks, CLANK. Pillows under their heads, Baudolino and The Poet lie down by the door and fall asleep.

BAUDOLINO'S DREAM: DIONYSUS AND MEDUSA Frederick sleeps, his strong snores gradually overcome by rhythmic machinery pounding. SUBLIMINAL rods coupling and cranking, valves opening, liquids boiling in alembics, fumes coming out through glass tubes, a plate flips open. Pinkish smoke comes out from Dionysus' mouth and fills the bedroom. The bedroom walls and furniture warp and slowly melt. Sleeping, The Emperor turns in the bed. In the armory room, the guards' -- happy faces, laughing -- turn to ugly as they point up at the bedroom above. The laughter waves rise to the ceiling, propagate through tubes, and come out through Dionysus' mouth, mixed with the pink smoke. Dionysus's head morphs into a scary Medusa head with snakes. Medusa's head grows bigger, her mouth opens, and the snakes wiggle threateningly. Fredrick wakes up scared by the head of the Medusa and pink smoke,
rushes to the door, opens the latch, runs out, stumbles, and falls
on sleeping Baudolino.
               BEDROOM LANDING - MORNING

               Scared eyes, Baudolino wakes up, and looks at the bedroom
               door -- it's closed.

               He stands up, knocks on it, and listens, no answer. He knocks
               and listens again, then hammers on it.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Father! Are you awake, you all
                         right? Father!?

               The Poet wakes up and stands up, confused. Agitated, he hurls
               himself against the door a couple of times. Baudolino
               forcefully shakes the door by the handle, which unexpectedly
               opens, and the Poet stumbles into the bedroom.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Not locked!?

               BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

               The Poet pulls open the bed draperies. Empty!

               BEDROOM LANDING AND STAIRS - MOMENTS LATER

               They run out and down the stairs. Guards jolt awake from a
               standing sleep, Kyot and Rabbi from the bench.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (hopeful)
                         He may be swimming!

                                   THE POET (O.S.)
                         Zosimos!

               Zosimos's chains hang loose. Baudolino keeps running.

               EXT. COURTYARD - MOMENTS LATER

               They run through the courtyard.

               EXT. SALEPH RIVER BANK - MOMENTS LATER

               Running along the river bank, they scan the rushing waters.

                                   THE POET
                         Good swimmer?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         When young... but now... dangerous
                         river.

               They arrive at a group of SOLDIERS. Baudolino elbows his way
               through and kneels by the Emperor lying on ground -- ugly
               bruise and blood on his face.

                                   SOLDIERS
                         Bloody river....The Emperor....
                         Dead --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         -- I've heard this before!

               Baudolino turns the Emperor face down, raises his midriff,
               and shakes him. Some water comes out from the Emperor's
               mouth. He turns him face up and pounds rhythmically on his
               chest.

               Duke of Swabia arrives, kneels, and waits for a sign of
               revival. None comes. He gets up and looks down at Baudolino.

                                   DUKE OF SWABIA
                             (furious, about to cry)
                         I've never trusted you!

               Baudolino looks up in grief, accepting the blame.

                                   DUKE OF SWABIA
                         Nor do I believe in your Priest
                         Johannes!

               Baudolino stands up and, after a short hesitation, embraces
               the Duke. The Duke -- tears in his eyes -- pushes Baudolino
               away.

                                   DUKE OF SWABIA
                         Don't you ever come back!

               EXT. SALEPH RIVER - ARMY CAMP - DAY

               Swirls of dust through the supplies left on ground. In
               disarray, distressed infantry SOLDIERS and  KNIGHTS walk or
               ride back West.

               Duke Of Swabia rides East in front of orderly TROOPS.
               Crusader banners and flags flutter.

               Baudolino, Abdul, and Rabbi on HORSES, The Poet, Kyot, and
               Boron standing by theirs. Two MULES are loaded with
               provisions.

               Baudolino carries the sword gift from the Emperor, Abdul has
               his cittern. Kyot flips a coin repetitively, alternating
               hands.

                                   KYOT
                             (looking Westward)
                         No matter how I do it, it keeps
                         telling to go that way.

               The Poet looks envious at the orderly troops' marching
               Eastward -- perhaps a promising military carrier?

                                   BORON
                             (to Baudolino)
                         Not sure about the Realm... and
                         still ashamed by that letter -- And
                         without a map or Zosimos --

                                   RABBI
                             (looking Eastward)
                         -- No matter. I'm going East after
                         my brothers. We'll catch up with
                         Zosimos if he went that way.

               He rides ahead, followed by Abdul. Kyot helps Boron up on the
               horse's saddle, then mounts on his. They both turn Eastward.
               Long farewell looks back at the others -- words are of no
               use. The Poet doesn't know which way to go.

               Overwhelmed by distress, Baudolino keeps staring at the
               tumultuous water stream.

               A rider gallops toward and reaches the group. It's Ardzrouni,
               well armed with an Armenian yatagan, short sword, and
               archery.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                             (to Baudolino)
                         I must disappear for a while.
                         Prince Leo will kill me... for
                         Frederick's death. Could I join
                         you?

               Baudolino doesn't care much.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         I know the mountain passes. Some
                         are dangerous... we may need to
                         defend ourselves.

                                   THE POET
                             (energized)
                         Could I use your archery?

               Ardzrouni looks at The Poet, then Baudolino, ignoring the
               first, waiting for the latter to respond. Baudolino just
               turns his horse and slowly rides Eastward.

EXT. TAURUS MOUNTAIN TRAIL - DAY Ardzrouni and the Poet, the latter with Ardzrouni's bow on his back, lead the group on a narrow mountain trail. Ardzrouni stops, scrutinizes the valley, and sees two riders following them. He signals to the others to stop and be silent, then dismounts and signals to The Poet to do the same. The latter loads the bow. The riders are Boron and Kyot. They sheepishly join the group. Baudolino gives Kyot a reproachful look, who responds with a defiant one. Walking beyond a big boulder, Rabbi gets frightened by the skeleton of a bighorn and rushes to catch up with the others. Baudolino stops by the skeleton. BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION - FATHERS AND TEACHERS The bighorn comes alive and MORPHS into a majestic lion with bighorn antlers. The lion rises upon its paws as its head MORPHS into that of the Emperor, imperial crown between the antlers.
                                  EMPEROR BIGHORN
                         Go find the Realm! "To be is to
                         believe!"

               The Emperor's head MORPHS into his teacher's, Otto Ist, who
               winks, his head covered by a white nightcap.

                                   OTTO I BIGHORN
                         If it's written, it becomes the
                         truth.

               The bighorn-lion with Otto's head MORPHS into the cow Rosina,
               with Galiaudo's unshaved face, white, thin hair rumpled head,
               and scorn on his face. Rosina's tail whacks Baudolino in the
               head.

                                   GALIAUDO ROSINA COW
                         Good for nothing, son!

               BACK TO SCENE

               Baudolino jerks his head and blinks as if hit by the whack.

               EXT. EUPHRATES RIVER - HALFETI WESTERN SHORE - DAY

               Bright day, Rumkale Fortress across the river. Ropes between
               shores secure the raft.

               The pilgrims leave the horses for safekeeping to a LOCAL MAN.

               They get on the raft with the mules, helped by TWO RAFT MEN. 

               EXT. EUPHRATES RIVER - HALFETI WESTERN SHORE - DAY

               Bright day, Rumkale Fortress across the river. A raft secured
               with ropes between the shores.

               The pilgrims leave the horses for safekeeping to a LOCAL MAN.

               They get on the raft with the mules, helped by TWO RAFT MEN.

               EXT. EUPHRATES RIVER - BARGE- LATER

               The Raft Men push on long poles. Rabbi and Boron look back at
               the shore they left and wave at the Local Man who holds their
               horses. The Local Man waves back.

               EXT. EUPHRATES RIVER - HALFETI ESTERN SHORE - LATER

               The pilgrims disembark and look back at the opposite shore --
               there's no Local Man nor horses in sight.

               Yelling over at the other shore, arguing between them, the
               pilgrims come gradually to terms with their misfortune.

               EXT. KARACADAG DWELLINGS - DAY

               Pilgrims' feet walking with difficulty on sand, avoiding
               volcanic rocks.

               Baudolino and Ardzrouni lead the group. Ardzrouni searches
               the ground, then the sky, hand tracing the sun from sunset to
               sunrise. A small village with huts in the distance.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         ... No camel footprints -- But
                         that's the right direction.

               At the dwelling outskirts, a KARACADAG MAN (60), wrinkled
               face, slowly smokes a pipe. He sees the group.

               Baudolino waves a greeting and nods at Abdul.

                                   ABDUL
                             (in Turkic; subtitled)
                         Did a priest Zosimos with a long,
                         curly beard come by?

                                   KARACADAG MAN
                         Ashem uj manghaer.

               Abdul shakes his head at Baudolino, who looks in turn at
               Ardzrouni, who doesn't understand it either.

               Baudolino takes over with body language, points back to the
               road, simulates walking, touches Boron's long dress and
               beard, mimics wonder.

               The Karacadag Man mimics a beard, nods then points at the hut
               across. A dirty KID (2) plays in the dirt. A GYPSY WOMAN
               (20), black hair, vividly colored floral dress, comes out of
               the hut and leans against the wall, hand on hip.
               Charmed, Kyot walks to the Gypsy Woman.

               The Karacadag Man shakes a finger at her, then mimics a
               pregnant woman's belly at Baudolino, and rubs his thumb with
               the index finger.

                                   KARACADAG MAN
                             (to Baudolino)
                         Ushmalekh kijiiab har drajeb.

               Kyot flirts with the Gypsy Woman.

               Baudolino shakes his head at the Karacadag Man. It's an
               annoying mix-up. He touches Boron's long beard and dress,
               points at the child, flashes three fingers and nods, flashes
               again ten fingers with both hands two times, and shakes his
               head.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (annoied)
                         Three months ago, not two years.

               The Karacadag Man thinks, rubs his thumb against the index
               again, and bargains by flashing ten fingers three times.

                                   KARACADAG MAN
                             (body language for closing
                              the deal)
                         Ojikshiman aburat, kwash!

               Looking at Kyot's enjoying the flirt Baudolino sees a group
               of menacing VILLAGERS approaching.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (to his pals)
                         Watch out! Run!

               He runs to Kyot, grabs his hand to pull him away, the woman
               resists by pulling from the other.

               Abdul and Rabbi run away kicking the mules. The villagers
               close in. The Poet and Ardzrouni take a defensive stance,
               arrow loaded on bow and yatagan at the ready. The villagers
               stop.

               EXT. TIGRIS RIVER - HASANKEYF - DAY

               Wind and rain. The pilgrims look across the Tigris, at the
               dwellings dug into the mountain. But no river crossing in
               sight. 

               Ardzrouni unrolls and checks the map, then traces the
               Northeast and Southeast sky with his hand.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         We were supposed to see the ruins
                         of Hatra, not this....I think we
                         went too far North.

                                   KYOT
                         The sun must've been wrong.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         No, I was, made the wrong
                         correction between the summer and
                         winter.

                                   KYOT
                             (points up, looks down)
                         Clear as in the clouds, clean as
                         mud!

               Muddy feet wrapped in torn fabrics.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         South to Hatra, then. We need food
                         and furs for the winter.

               With distress overcome by resignation, the pilgrims turn to
               South.

               EXT. ANCIENT HATRA - NIGHT

               Under the full moon, the pilgrims walk through collapsed
               columns and statues.

               They sit around a fire in a small sanctuary. The statue of
               Ebū, still erect, stood the test of time.

               The pilgrims sleep. The fire flames light plays on Ebu's
               ample body and ceremonial adornments, heavy headpiece, and
               necklaces. Looking at the statue, Abdul falls asleep.

               ABDUL DREAM: EBU FONDLES ABDUL

               Ebū comes to life, graciously removes her adornments,
               unbuttons her shirt, and kneels to gently embrace him. He
               stiffens in defense. 

                                   ABDUL
                         No! You are not my dream lover!

               BACK TO SCENE

               Abdul wakes up relieved that just the shadow of the statue
               covered his body.

               EXT. BEHISTUN CARAVANSERAI - DAY                         
               SUPER: "APRIL 1191, BEHISTUN CARAVANSERAI"

               Baudolino and The Poet haul TWO HORSES. Abdul and Kyot shop
               for a CAMEL. Abdul asks a CAMEL TRADER to make a BACTRIAN
               CAMEL kneel, then stand up. The camel does but is unsteady.
               Abdul shakes his head and walks away.

               Another BACTRIAN CAMEL passes Abdul's test. He nods, and
               bargaining restarts. Kyot caresses the camel's head.

               EXT. BEHISTUN MOUNTAIN TRAIL - DAY

               The pilgrims advance in the valley with the Bactrian Camel
               and the two horses. They stop to look up at the Behistun Rock
               bas-relief showing the Zoroastrian King Darius punishing the
               satraps.

               Kyot hauls the Bactrian Camel at the front of the group and
               lovingly looks into the -- camel's eye.

                                   KYOT
                         I baptize her Bathsheba.

               Behind the camel, The Poet grimaces -- at her buttocks'
               stinking odors.

                                   THE POET
                         Really! Stinking of dung and piss?

               FRAAP! The camel farts, and the Poet rushes ahead of her,
               annoyed.

               EXT. QUAZVIN DESERT - NIGHT

               Desert storm. The blowing sand covers the moonlight.

               The pilgrims lie against the MULES and camels to stay warm.
               The Poet looks around. The only spot available is on
               Bathsheba, next to Kyot. He leans against the camel, pouting,
               while Kyot inhales contently.

                                   KYOT
                         Her smell made my migraine go away.

                                   THE POET
                             (grumbling, fantasizing)
                         Your Bathsheba needs a bath -- And
                         I need to dream about the real one
                         bathing....I, King David, watching!

               He scratches his chest and crotch.

               THE POET DREAM: CAMEL BATHSHEBA FLIRTS

               The sandstorm subsides, and the night sky brightens to a
               surreal day. In the blazing sun, a camel approaches him,
               undulating her hips.

               She shows off her big white teeth and red lipstick, and sends
               a flirtish kiss.

                                   THE CAMEL
                         I am Bathsheba naked, full of fur
                         That some complain of foul "odeur".
                         There is no way to clean my dirt,
                         In spite of which I love to flirt.
                         So, check my humps seen from the
                         side,
                         How firm and not in need of bra to
                         hide.

               EXT. ZADRACARTA GREEK SETTLEMENT - DAY
               SUPER: "JUNE 1191. ZADRAKARTA GREEK SETTLEMENT"

               Gardens, orchards, and rental pens for travelers' animals at
               the entrance of the city's bazaar. The pilgrims leave
               Bathsheba and the two horses in an ARAB RENTER' pen for
               safekeeping.

               In the crowded bazaar, they stop to look, bargain and buy
               things.

               A FAT MERCHANT demonstrates to Boron how to open the hidden
               compartment of a wooden box with Arabesque inlays.

               Kyot admires a censer studded with colorful stones resembling
               the Holy Grail. The TRADER adds a handful of -- amber-ish
               frankincense. Kyot sniffs a plume rising from a frankincense
               piece burning on the stand. A painful migraine suddenly
               strikes him.

               Rabbi nods at an OLD MERCHANT who explains with extensive
               gestures the oily content in a colorful vial.
                                  RABBI
                         Did you say Balm of Gilead?

                                   OLD MERCHANT
                             (convincingly nodding)
                         Gili! Gili!

               A GREEK MAN (60), TONEOS, fat, well dressed, accompanied by a
               MAN SERVANT hauling a small cart loaded with kegs, stops
               Baudolino. An invitation follows introductions and greetings.

               Baudolino waves the pilgrims over. Kyot has a migraine and
               protests.

               EXT/INT. ZADRAKARTA HOUSE - ATRIUM - DAY

               They walk through the open atrium garden with columns and a
               small fountain. Toneos opens a tall door.

               RECEPTION ROOM - CONTINUOUS

               Small wine drops splash on Toneos' face. He blinks.
               Disappointed exclamations and laughter.          

               A copper plate slightly wobbles on the head of a bronze
               statuette, and wine drops drip from it.

               The bronze statuette atop a small column is in the middle of
               the room. Sofas by walls with Greek gods frescoes. A Kottabos
               wine-drinking contest and Toga costume party is in progress.
               Greetings between the hosts' guests and pilgrims. TWO
               SERVANTS bring chairs, kylikes, sweetmeats, and fruits.

               The guests, FOUR GREEK MEN, wearing laurels or satyr's ear
               adornments, chat, drink, nibble, and compete from sofas: a
               SKINNY MAN (30), an ATHLETIC MAN (30), a WHITE BEARD (70),
               historian lookalike, and a SWEATY FAT (60), bold man.
               Excited by the prospect of winning the hetairas' graces, the
               guests take turns at toppling the copper plate by flinging
               the wine dregs from the empty kylixes. Noisy exclamations.

               Baudolino watches TWO HETAIRAS (30-ish), dark hair, costumed as
               the Muse of Music and Dancing playing an aulos, and the Goddess of 
Fertility and Sensuality filling the guests' kylixes with wine.
The latter wears an Egyptian headdress with thin elongated horns
with a sun disk and a small snake between them, and an Eye of Ra
tattoo on her arm. Migraine-prone, Kyot declines but doesn't fail to notice -- her partially exposed breasts. The Poet marvels at the -- erotic scene on his kylix -- as the hetaira pours wine. He glances at her back as she bends to pour wine into Baudolino's kylix. Baudolino eyes the -- Eye of Ra tattooed on the hetaira's upper arm, then, charmed by her exotic grace, lets his admiration be noticed. TONEOS (to Baudolino; in Greek; subtitled) Many gods suit us well. They inspire to play tricks, cheat and drink wine... like I do! BAUDOLINO (more to hetaira; in Greek; subtitled) I like to drink, but believing in One God makes my life worthier. HETAIRA One God for all? Why not many gods? Gods for arts, beauty... and pleasure. Baudolino follows Guests' conversations continue as the hetaira serves wine. ATHLETIC (in Greek; subtitled; flexing his pectorals in a mirror) ... keeping in shape. That's how Alexander the Great got here and farther! WHITE BEARD (to Athletic Man; inebriated) Mind muscles, more important... learning, debating on philosophical issues. -- And science... rationality... set us free from spirituality. Toneos attempts a wine throw and fails. Smiling, the hetaira comes back to fill up his kylix. Baudolino drinks his wine. BAUDOLINO (to hetaira; in Greek; subtitled) A goddess who speaks our language? HATHOR (pointing at the tattoo) I'm Hathor, the nymph... goddess of fertility ... and sensuality. He looks at her head to toe, her split toga revealing hairy leggings and hoof-like painted sandals. Smiling, Baudolino flings the wine dregs at the Kottabos plate -- which topples from the bronze head's statuette. PARTY (O.S.) (admiration, envy; in Greek; subtitled) He got the prize! Ahh! Wow! Hathor acknowledges his win and puts her hand on his shoulder. Their exchange of warm smiles fades away the surrounding noise. EXT. KARAKUM DESERT - DAY SUPER: "DECEMBER 1191. KARAKUM DESERT" Riding Bathsheba and the horses, the pilgrims advance on dry land Sand dunes around. A cloud of dust gets closer fast from the left. A band of FIVE TURKMENS of various ages, mustachios, and big, round fur hats, armed with yatagans and longbows, ride on HORSES around the pilgrims. Ardzrouni, Baudolino, and The Poet brandish their weapons. The attackers stop circling and three of them aim the arrows. TURKMAN ATTACKER (in Turkish; subtitled) You fight, you're dead! Drop the swords! Ardzrouni, understanding the language, hesitates, drops his, and nods at The Poet and Baudolino to follow suit. Two attackers dismount and collect the weapons. TURKMAN ATTACKER (in Turkish; subtitled) Dismount and kneel. Ardzrouni dismounts first and the others follow. One attacker jerks Abdul to check the cittern, touches the fingerboard and the pegs, and utters a -- broad, ugly smile. - LATER On horses, two attackers yank the tied-up pilgrims to walk faster. The other three flank the pilgrims' horses and Bathsheba. Another plume of dust advances fast from the right. An attacker sees it and warns the others. A group of SEVEN SARACENS, dark complexions, turbans, and face coverings, attack the Turkmens. Turks' arrows fly, one hits a Saracen's horse -- the horse stumbles -- the Saracen falls, rolls, recovers, and slashes a Turkmen from behind, then another one. Saracen swords and axes clash with the Turkish yatagans in close combat. The Turkmen fall one by one. The Saracens round up the Turkmans' horses and collect their weapons. The SARACEN LEADER (30), dark face, mustache, and beard, removes his face cover and looks at the pilgrims. SARACEN LEADER (in Farsi; subtitled; to one of his men) Untie and let them ride. The Saracen unties the pilgrims -- some are relieved, some concerned. The Saracens and pilgrims ride toward a distant oasis. EXT. KARAKUM MUSLIM OASIS - DAY On the right of the trail, large colorful tents, MERCHANTS and CAMELS, smaller tents with dried fish hanging on strings, SHEPHERDS, SHEEP, and MULES in pens behind them. On the left, a cluster of date palms and citrus trees, a large water well with an extraction mechanism run by MULES. Through narrow channels, the water flows in opposite directions, one toward a group of three tents. On higher ground, a windmill with vertical wooden plates, clay storage below, and stacks of grain bags.
               The Saracens and pilgrims dismount in the courtyard of the
               tents, the middle one richly decorated, the others just
               black. FIVE YOUNG BOYS (10 to 14), wearing fez or turbans,
               stop reading their books to look at the group.

               INT. MUSLIM OASIS - SHEIKH'S TENT - LATER

               AL ZAIM (50), dark complexion, bearded man, is bent over a
               table filled with sheets of paper, reed pens, quills, and
               small containers with colored inks.

                                   SARACEN LEADER (O.S.)
                             (in Farsi; subtitled)
                         Peace to you Sheikh Al Zaim
                         Zeeshan.

               Al Zaim keeps drawing -- a schematic of water extraction
               mechanisms with cranks, shafts, and distribution channels.

Al Zaim looks up surprised by the pilgrims' presence. Around, shelves with books and pegged drawings, a chess board, teapots, and cups on a small table. AL ZAIM Ahh, The People of the Book. SARACEN LEADER (in Farsi; subtitled) We got horses and swords from the Turkmen and -- AL ZAIM (in Farsi; subtitled) -- And those bags? SARACEN LEADER (in Farsi; subtitled; to pilgrims) Empty your bags on the floor. Ardzrouni empties his bag, and signals to the others to follow. The Poet turns his upside-down in contempt. The pile grows with bags, skin water bags, personal effects, dried food, prayer books, Christian crosses, rosaries, Baudolino's bundle of parchments, Rabbi's balm bottle, Boron's wooden box, Kyot's censer cup. Al Zaim walks to and looks at the pile with disdain. He pushes Boron's box aside with his foot, picks up the cup and tosses it back, picks up the bundle of parchments -- Baudolino stiffens -- and flips through, reading. AL ZAIM The Christian People of the Book must learn more about the Muslims' Book of Knowledge. ARDZROUNI Sheikh Al Zaim, we admired the qanat. Do you have knowledge of the Greeks' water systems? AL ZAIM Greeks and Romans lacked ingenuity because they had lots of water. Just built tunnels and aqueducts to carry it. We do not have much of it, but Allah gave us the knowledge to find it....The hadith says, "He who pursues the road of knowledge, Allah will direct to the road of Paradise". The pilgrims nod, relieved that -- the Sheikh smiles. AL ZAIM But you must first learn about Allah, The Most Glorified, the Most High. It depends on you how long it'll take. INT. MUSLIM OASIS - MADRASA TENT - NIGHT Beards grown and dressed in thobes, the pilgrims sit crouched on pillows, booklets on their laps. A MUSLIM CLERIC (50) ascetic, long beard, wearing a thobe, ghutra, and egal, walks, keeping the rhythm of the pilgrims' reciting. PILGRIMS (broken unison) Al-Wahhab, Ar-Razzaq, Al-Fattah, Al Alim, Al-Qabid, Al-Basit. MUSLIM CLERIC You infidel dogs! Arab language sounds like music... not how you bark it. You need to learn all 99 names of Allah! Memorize the meaning of each name... repeat until you feel how true it is! The pilgrims protest with subdued body language. They obey, though, and bend their heads down to the booklets. INT. MUSLIM OASIS - SHEIKH'S TENT - DAY SUPER: "AUGUST 1192, SHEIKH's TENT" The pilgrims sit on pillows in front of Al Zaim. AL ZAIM ... self-secluded in this remote place to teach people, even transients like you -- Lousy learners, there's nothing of value that I could learn from you, like the science of mechanisms, magic of the numbers or... how to look at the stars. The Muslim Teacher nods in ample agreement. Ardzrouni is about to say something, but Baudolino nudges him not to. The Poet frowns, Rabbi and Boron are resigned. AL ZAIM And you cost me more than the value of your horses and swords.

EXT. KARAKUM DESERT - DAY Black thobes blown by the wind, the pilgrims walk away from the oasis. Boron looks back, cautious, then opens the secret box compartment -- few gold coins inside. He shows them off to Baudolino and Ardzrouni. ARDZROUNI Money! The universal language everybody understands. EXT. AMU DARIA RIVER - DAY The pilgrims cross the river on a barge. A CAMEL caravan crosses Amu Daria at a wider but shallower area. On the barge, Ardzrouni studies his map, Boron and Kyot elbow each other to see it. The Poet and Rabbi look at the river. BORON After crossing this river, Alexander the Great kept going East. KYOT No, he went South from -- BORON -- Listen! The books say he built a great wall farther East to stop the Magogs. ARDZROUNI Other books say that the Chinese built it. BORON (pointing on map) It depends on which books. Maybe the Chinese continued what Alexander started right behind these mountains. Baudolino pays attention, The Poet looks at the map. THE POET How far is the wall? Kyot waits for Boron to answer, Boron looks at Ardzrouni, who doesn't know. Baudolino looks afar, doesn't mind how far. EXT. AMU DARIA RIVER - EASTERN SHORE - DAY A CAMEL caravan, coming from the North, turns East. Six CAMELS and three ARAB TRADERS: a YOUNG TRADER pulls two camels, the first with a double saddle, one occupied by an OLD TRADER, the second with a shugduf, and a MIDDLE AGE TRADER who pulls four camels. Abdul runs to catch up with the Young Trader, slows down to look at the shugduf, reaches the Young Trader, walks along, and negotiates with him. The Young Trader signals for the caravan to stop. The negotiations continue until Abdul waves at the pilgrims. He walks back and stops to look again at the shugduf -- black draperies. ABDUL FLASHBACK IMAGINATION: LONGING LOVE The fabric of the shugduf is pulled over. A beautiful YOUNG ARAB woman, half of her face covered. The drapery is slowly pulled back. BACK TO SCENE The drapery is suddenly pulled over by an OLD, UGLY ARAB WOMAN who yells at the Young Trader. ARAB WOMAN (in Arabic; subtitled) I told you to not stop until Samarkand! She makes a face at Abdul and yanks the drapery closed. EXT. SAMARKAND MARKET - DAY SUPER: "OCTOBER 1192, SAMARKAND" In winter clothing, the pilgrims walk through merchandise stands, pens with MULES and CAMELS, TRADERS, PERFORMERS, MEN, and VEILED WOMEN, a mixture of Asian ethnicities. Ardzrouni, Kyot, and Boron look like high priests or Kings in their brocade cloaks, cape, and fur hats. Rabbi got a colorful tallit, The Poet a huntsman leather coat and a bow, Baudolino an Italian tight vest, thick leggings, and cape, Abdul a turban and Arabic clothing. Each carries loaded backpacks made of skin held by light wooden frames. In a pen with CAMELS, Ardzrouni and Abdul talk with an ARAB TRADER. Boron stands by Baudolino, who instructs TWO MAGOG HELPERS, fierce-looking Attila's profiles, Mongoloid eyes, and hairstyle with two small braided strands looking like horns, on loading the camels, one of the camels double saddled. Baudolino walks across the pen, where Kyot and Rabbi watch a juggling act. He grabs Kyot's sleeve, who pulls Rabbi's. Boron gives coins from the box to Abdul, who gives them to the Arab Trader. Baudolino checks what the Magogs did. Rabbi throws a fearful glance at the Magogs. RABBI (to Baudolino) Do you trust these apocalyptic... figures? BAUDOLINO They are just hardworking people, not apocalyptic. Think of them as our equals... in their own way. -- Let's go, we spent too much time in Samarkand. Rabbi nods resigned but -- RABBI -- Wait! Today is Sabbath! I will not walk anywhere farther than 70 cubits. Baudolino is annoyed, talks with Abdul and the Arab Trader. KYOT (to Rabbi) You'll be riding the camel, not walking. RABBI One hundred Rabbis did not give allowance for riding on Sabbath. Baudolino comes back. BAUDOLINO (to Rabbi) The trader says that today is Friday, not Saturday. RABBI (bitter to himself) Shishi? Hmmm... I've sinned by not keeping the count of the days.

EXT. AKSU RIVER - DAY
In the distance, the frozen Aksu River. Rabbi and The Poet ride the camel with the double saddle, followed by Kyot and Boron on the other two camels. Abdul, Ardzrouni, and Baudolino walk along, wrapped in furs or blankets. RABBI (to himself) Not Sambatyon, but when -- (to all) -- Wait! We need to track the week's days! THE POET Why do I care ? KYOT Could be fun. We each get a name day... Rabbi gets Sabbath! He looks around at the others. KYOT Ardzrouni should be Sunday, sun burned skin. The lunatic Baudolino... Monday, what else? -- The Poet would be Tuesday, our god of war!....I'll take Wednesday, the wise messenger of Mercurius -- BAUDOLINO -- And the god of thieves! KYOT Boron gets Thursday, mocking the day of Jupiter with his frailty, and Abdul, Friday... for his Aphrodisiac tendencies and... looove of women's beauty. EXT. ZOROASTRIAN ESCHARTE OUTSKIRTS - DAY SUPER: "DECEMBER 1192. ZOROASTRIAN ESCHARTE" Ardzrouni and Rabbi on the front camel's double saddle. Behind them, Kyot raises the cup high and admires its shine and colorful glass beads in the orange light from the sunset. Dark clouds blown by wind are about to cover the sun. KYOT The Immortal Holy Grail! Boron looks at his box -- not sure about its immortality. Arrived on higher ground, Rabbi raises his hand and points at the orange lights ahead. RABBI Fires! A village! EXT. ESCHARTE VILLAGE - LATER Fires at the top of tall columns surround the village. ZOROASTRIAN MEN AND WOMEN walk toward the village's square, where five more fires burn in clay pots. MEN and WOMEN sit on grass. The sky gets covered by dark, heavy clouds. An OLD VILLAGER notices the pilgrims and, dumbstruck, runs yelling toward the square. OLD VILLAGER The Magi, the Magi are back! The walking men and women, carrying plates with food offerings, turn, see the pilgrims and some kneel. ZOROASTRIAN PEOPLE The Magi... The Magi? The pilgrims stop, puzzled. Ardzrouni looks back at -- Kyot, who holds the cup, then at -- Boron, who has the box. Rabbi hands over the vial with balm to Ardzrouni, who -- smartens up -- takes the vial and greets the Zoroastrians. A CHILD (10) pulls the harness of Ardzrouni's camel toward the village square. In the middle of it, the Zoroastrian Priest FARHAD (40), long beard and hair, white robe, intones toward the dark clouds. Thunders and lightning afar. Farhad prompts FIVE KIDS in white dresses to add branches to the pots fires. The praying MEN get up and start jumping over the revived fires. The Old Villager arrive at the podium, excitedly pulls on Fahrad's cape and points at the approaching pilgrims. Fahrad sees the pilgrims on camels and raises his hands toward the sky in ecstasy. Light rain starts. FARHAD Blessed be the miraculous return of the Magi, Kings Melchior, Caspar, and Balthasar. He steps down from the podium to greet them. Ardzrouni, Boron, and Kyot dismount and hug him. The light rain turns heavier. ABDUL Our masters are grateful to the People of the Good Religion. Lightning strikes close, and the heavy rain turns to hail. People run for cover or raise their hands, blessing the rain. The priest rushes the pilgrims toward a house. INT. ESCHARTE HOUSE - NIGHT The pilgrims and the hosts sit crouched on a rug around plates with traditional Zoroastrian food. Farhad, the host BIJAN (60), white beard, and THREE YOUNGER ZOROASTRIANS, black beards, wear white robes, head scarves, or kufis. Chat, nibbling, and fingers wiping on towels. The Poet licks his fingers. ARDZROUNI ... But why five? ZOROASTRIAN PRIEST The fires represent the Holy Immortals... each the symbol of the (showing five fingers) five principles to follow in life. The Poet kills a yawn and glances at -- the Zoroastrian symbol on the wall, a candle on the altar under it. BORON How about Evil? Since God created everything, didn't he create Evil as well? Rabbi nods. The Zoroastrians laugh condescendingly. Abdul glances over at the objects on a side table, five lit candles, apples, and -- a mirror. Winter gale sound from outside. Candles flames flicker. FARHAD No! He did not. Evil dwells in Hell, God abides in Heaven. He opened the gates of Heaven for us. -- When humans will walk on the path to it, in universal harmony, Evil will burn in Hell. Rabbi is happy, Boron hopeful. BAUDOLINO We know of a Universal Religion Realm where a Priest Johannes holds the secret of harmony between religion and state. BIJAN We've heard about an envoy going to him... with a letter from Pope Eugenius. Didn't hear about the envoy returning, though. BAUDOLINO We are then ... a new envoy from the Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick Ist. BIJAN ... There were rumors about a letter sent to the Byzantine BIJAN Emperor Manuel Komnenos and -- The Poet and Abdul are alert. BAUDOLINO -- we've heard about that, but it was just a rumor. The truth is that we got the letter from Priest Johannes inviting Frederick Ist to an alliance. Boron and Rabbi lower their heads, hiding embarrassment. They jolt at -- a window suddenly opening, snow blasting in through draperies. Fahrad stands up and locks the window closed. FARHAD (toasting) Honors to your Emperor and yourself then. To religious harmony! -- May that better serve the spirit of Abraham, the Father of All Religions. EXT ESCHARTE HOUSE - DAY SUPER: "MARCH 1193. LEAVING ESCHARTE" Sunshine. The Zoroastrian hosts and a FEW MEN and WOMEN bid farewell to the pilgrims. FARHAD (pointing at the sun) Thank you for the light brought to our people. Thinking of you as Magi is a good omen. Zoroastrian Women offer food, and the pilgrims load them on camels. DOGS roam around, the pilgrims pat them. Bijan gives Baudolino a book in leather binding. Baudolino checks the texture of blank pages. BIJAN Chinese make them from leaves -- Make your writings a worthy chronicle! Zana hands a mirror to Abdul. ZANA Use it when you need to see your lover's soul. Don't use it in vain! BIJAN (to Abdul) It's a wedding tradition. The groom sees in the mirror the true soul of his bride, blessed in the future of their marriage. Ervin hands a small pouch to Boron. ERVIN Please present our most reverential greetings to Priest Johannes.

EXT. JIAOHE GHOST TOWN - NIGHT SUPER: "AUGUST 1193. JIAHOE GHOST TOWN" The full moon lights the ruins and the tall, flute-like rock structures. The wind blows dust and makes howling noises through them. Dark clouds gather at the edge of the moon. The Poet and Abdul walk side by side, the cittern and bow arch on their backs. The pilgrims reach the dead end of a narrow gorge. The moon gets covered and the gorge gets pitch dark. Shapes barely visible, they try to rear the camels, bump into each other, and argue. ARDZROUNI (V.O.) I'll go first around this -- ABDUL (V.O.) -- get out of here! BORON (V.O.) No! It's windy out there -- THE POET (V.O.) -- rest for the night -- ABDUL (V.O.) -- Silence all! I hear a humming. Silence. GHYAA-YA-YA-GHAEE nuzzle the camels. GHOSTS (Meditation) Ooooooomm... Frightened, the Pilgrims' and camels' contours move quickly. BORON (V.O.) Bad omen! It's dark like in the Abcasian forest. ARDZROUNI (V.O.) (Frightful) Takes years to get out of -- GHOSTS (V.O.) (louder) -- Ooooooommm... Oooooommm.... Cittern string harmony. Abdul starts singing a love song. ABDUL Oh, my love from the distant land, You're healing my aching heart... GHOSTS (V.O.) (harmonious) -- Ooooooommm... Oooooommm.... THE POET Music! The Universal language that anybody understands. He pinches the bowstring and starts singing. THE POET (Irish accent) I ask me wife to kindly answer, Who owns them boots beneath the bed, Was it someone who just fled? GHOSTS (V.O.) (throaty) Uhheeem... Uhheeem... EXT. JIAOHE GHOST TOWN - MORNING Sunny, breezy morning. The Poet and Abdul wake up, bow and cittern next to them. The others munch and drink. The pilgrims leave the ghost town. The wind faintly howls OOOOHMM through the flute-like, tall rocks. EXT. DUNHUANG - CHINESE WALL - NIGHT SUPER: "OCTOBER 1193. CHINESE WALL" Tired, turning around a big boulder, the pilgrims set camp at the base of it.

EXT. DUNHUANG - CHINESE WALL - MORNING

One by one, the pilgrims wake up by the boulder. Agape, they
look at the tall stone wall extending over hills and mountains as far as they can see. EXT. CHINESE WALL - LATER Baudolino and Ardzrouni walk along the wall. The others follow on camels or on foot, tired, head bobbing. Baudolino stops and looks at -- a small opening and a wooden door in the wall. He bangs on it with his fist. More banging, listening, and waiting for a response. The door suddenly opens, and the head of an OLD CHINESE MAN sticks out -- impassible look at Baudolino. With brawl and exclamations, the others push Baudolino away from the door. He elbows his way back. BAUDOLINO (with body language) Ganges! Big water! Flow! Keeping his impassible stare, the Chinese Man extends his hand through the opening, pointing Westward. The pilgrims turn their heads and protest in anguish. The Chinese Man is about to shut the door, but Baudolino pushes against it and calls for Rabbi to explain. Rabbi picks up a few stones, tumbles them in his hands, and imitates the flow of rumbling water. RABBI Grrrrr... Sambatyon! River of stones! The Chinese Man nods, extends his hand through the opening, and points Eastward. The pilgrims look at the long, long wall. Desperation prevails hope. The Chinese Man disappears from the opening and SLAMS the door. Burst of pilgrims' incriminations. The door opens, burst of pilgrims' relief. A hand holding a -- chained canister -- comes out through the opening. The pilgrims' thirst-quenching comes with exclamations of gratitude. The bowl is yanked back, the wooden door shuts closed and locked, CLAK. The pilgrims' vain protests turn into resignation. Baudolino yanks a camel's rope and walks away briskly. BAUDOLINO That's right! We must arrive at the same point where Alexander the Great stopped, at the Ganges. KYOT (laughs in scorn) As I said before, Alexander stopped at Indus, not Ganges -- RABBI (forceful) -- Never mind Alexander... we must follow my brothers, cross Sambatyon... that way! He follows Baudolino. Ardzrouni hesitates, then looks at his map. ARDZROUNI There must be a passage through the wall, South. He follows Rabbi. Left behind, The Poet and Kyot watch the pilgrims walking away along the wall. THE POET (furious) South? Lies in all cardinal points, maps... and in their heads. I'm going back to Zadracarta! KYOT (shouting) I'm going back to my Gypsy girl! EXT. YUSHU VALLEY - DAY Exhausted by heat and barely moving, the pilgrims reach the top of a ridge. In the distance of the scorched land, a lake. Hungry and thirsty, they search for bushes and withering plants. The Poet spots some plants down the ridge in a shaded area. Ardzrouni and Kyot get closer to look. ARDZROUNI (checking the leaves) Could be ginseng, that's good... but Mandrake is poisonous....It's ginseng! It'll give us the energy to get to the lake. The Poet pulls the plant out, strange veiling. The threesome bolt at the shape resembling a woman's body. The Poet drops it. The others look up. A hawk flies. Kyot picks up the root, cleans the dirt and ants, and caresses its shape smiling sheepishly. He takes a healthy bite and winches. KYOT Phooah! Such a bitter... woman. Abdul pulls a root out, cleans it, takes a hearty bite, chews, swallows, then searches for another one. The other pilgrims pluck other roots, clean them up, cautiously eat the ants, and take small bites. Energized, they briskly walk toward the lake. EXT. YUSHU VALLEY - WULANWULA LAKE - NIGHT Abdul flaps his arms fully energized, jumps, and runs on the shore toward the lake. ABDUL I feel like flying, flying! He squashes some bugs, kicks few scorpions away, launches in and
drinks the water. Sated, the pilgrims lie down and fall asleep. More bugs and scorpions crawl toward the water. Abdul's restlessness subsides, and he falls asleep.

ABDUL DREAM: THE BRIDE AND MANTICORE Abdul slowly flies up in the sky, where streams of violet and yellow lights play like an aurora borealis. From the ledge of a rock, a winged Baudolino invites a celestial fairy to join Abdul. Dressed in a shiny violet wedding gown with a long flapping train, face covered by a black veil, the fairy graciously flies over, holding a cittern adorned with flowers. Abdul is delighted to see his bride strumming harmonies. They fly a celestial dance, she lovingly guiding him into a circling descent to the ground.
               The cittern neck TURNS into a stick, the broom end visible
               under the flapping dress train. Close to the ground, she
               MORPHS into a witch and drops Abdul down.

               She laughs and strikes the stick of the broom as if a chord.
               The dissonant harmony becomes a grunt as she MORPHS into a
               manticore. The manticore stings Abdul's shoulder with its
               tail stinger.

               EXT. YUSHU VALLEY - WULANWULA LAKE - MORNING

               Abdul grunts wake everybody up. They're all dizzy, sick
               looking. Scorpions run away. Abdul holds his shoulder in
               pain.

                                   ABDUL
                             (mumbling)
                         My bride, she, she --

               Baudolino crawls toward him.

                                   ABDUL
                             (gasping)
                         -- the witch... she's not my -- the
                         manticore!

               The others crawl closer.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Don't worry about the manticore. I
                         dreamt about it too... but fought
                         and killed it.

               Abdul has convulsions, his eyes open wide and roll.

                                   ABDUL
                             (whisper chanting)
                         Longing turns my mind insane...

               Baudolino searches in Abdul's backpack, pulls out the
               Zoroastrian mirror, and holds it close to Abdul's face. His
               breath mists the mirror surface.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (whisper to Abdul's ear)
                         Your bride is here, don't lose your
                         faith, she's waiting for you. Look!

               Abdul grabs it, looks at the misty face, brightens up, and
               stops shaking.

                                   ABDUL
                         Aching heart no more in pain,
                         Joy forever will now reign.

               Baudolino recites as if the bride responds.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (whispering)
                         I'm your bride in mind and heart,
                         Close forever, not apart.

               Abdul kisses the mirror. A deep, contented sigh. The mirror
               drops on his chest.

               A sand whirlwind envelopes the pilgrims, funnels over Abdul's
               chest, and takes his soul up in the sky.

               EXT. TIBET - BUDDHIST RETREAT - DAY
               SUPER: "DECEMBER 1194. TIBET BUDDHIST RETREAT"

               Calm winter afternoon. A slow-moving cloud uncovers the side
               of the steep mountain face. On a small plateau, a cave, two
               stupas, and a wood cabin.

               TWO YOUNG MONKS shovel the snow around the stupas. A big
               WHITE LION paces among them.
               An ASCETIC HINDU (60), summarily dressed, sits in padmasana
               and explains with an impassionate voice -- no steam coming
               out from his breath.

                                   ASCETIC HINDU
                             (in Hindi; subtitled)
                         There is no spirit higher than that
                         in my own soul... no higher power
                         than that of karma, my desires.

               Facing him, Baudolino (53), The Poet (49), Kyot (55), Rabbi
               Solomon (65), Ardzrouni (45), and Boron (66) -- heavy steam
               coming out from their breaths -- sit on ground wrapped in
               thick furs and rags.

               Baudolino makes an effort to understand, and raises his hand.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (with body language)
                         Karma!... Karma?

               Ascetic Hindu gathers a small ball of snow and throws it at
               Baudolino's head, who wipes it out, wondering.

               The Ascetic Hindu smiles. The lion comes and sits by him.

                                   ASCETIC
                             (in Hindi; subtitled; with
                              ample body language)
                         My action, driven by desire...
                         could hurt you... and me, by its
                         consequences.

               Baudolino tries hard to understand. Open-mouthed, and sleepy,
               The Poet can barely keep his eyes open. The others are in
               incipient stages of falling asleep.

               The Ascetic continues the Buddhism lesson.

                                   ASCETIC
                             (in Hindi; subtitled)
                         The four principles of life are...
                             (showing four fingers)
                         suffering, desire for action,
                         liberation from desire and
                         salvation....But one must practice
                         the eight rules...
                             (showing eight fingers)
                         to attain enlightenment.

               Baudolino pretends to understand and nods respectfully.

               The Ascetic scrutinizes -- Baudolino's eyes -- then slowly
               nods.

                                   ASCETIC
                             (in Hindi; subtitled)
                         You want too much... bad karma.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (faking enlightenment)
                         Aww, Karma!

               He gathers his hands in a thankful bow, stands up, and
               leaves. The others wake up from their torpor and follow.

               INT. BUDDHIST RETREAT - STUPA - NIGHT

               Huddled against each other, the pilgrims sleep on the floor.
               At a corner table lit by a candle, a monk finishes mixing the
               ink stone and hands a bamboo quill to Baudolino.

               Baudolino writes on a page of the leather binding. The candle
               flame flickers. Baudolino's eyelids twitch, then close.

               BAUDOLINO FLASH MEMORY

               Jiahoe gorge pitch dark, pilgrims and camels bumping into
               each other. Boron and Ardzrouni echo voices: "...dark like in
               the Abcasian forest... years to get out..."

               BACK TO SCENE

               He opens his eyes, then writes down in the leather binding
               book.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (whispering)
                         ... years to get out of the
                         darkness of the Abcasian forest.

               Active writing: "... Abcasian forest." He raises his head.
               The winter wind blows outside.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         Winters and years. How many?

               EXT. BUXA SANCTUARY - FOREST - DAY
               SUPER: "MARCH 1195. BUXA ANIMIST SANCTUARY"

               The wind rustles the branches of the birch tree. ANIM, a
               naked MAN (25), bows down in worship at the trunk of a tree.
                                  BIRCH TREE
                             (leaves rustling)
                         Why pray for a son? One of your
                         daughters may want to be boyish.
                         Ask your woman to let you raise her
                         the way you want, if she does.

               The pilgrims walk by, avoiding to disturb him.

               Further away, Baudolino and Kyot look back. Anim runs to
               catch up with them. He does, and the pilgrims wonder at his
               eight-foot tall, athletic, handsomely built man.

                                   ANIM
                             (Germanic accent)
                         I am Anim! It's so rare to see
                         people alike. Please, let me
                         introduce you to our community.

               They walk by a big boulder. A deep sound of rocks clanking.
               Anim stops and bows.

                                   ANIM (V.O.)
                         These people don't look too
                         healthy. They need help and rest.

               Light clanking from the boulder. Anim listens, bows, then
               walks on. The pilgrims wonder.

                                   BORON
                             (to Baudolino)
                         Weird, isn't it?

                                   KYOT
                         Weird is fun! And the farther we
                         go, the weirder it gets. I wonder
                         what's next.

               EXT. BUXA VILLAGE - DAY

               The treetops of a big forest, a clearing with a small water
               flow, a village with dwellings, roofs made of straw, a small
               fire and a thin plume of smoke rising.

               Anim and the pilgrims walk along the dwellings built on high
               stilts. Canoes and rafts made of woven vine and skins hang
               under along with dried food.

               FEW ATHLETIC MEN and WOMEN, almost naked, climb up or down on
               ropes or ladders to or from the high dwellings.

               Other ATHLETIC MEN and WOMEN of various ethnic groups and
               ages chat or go about the daily chores, repairing canoes,
               weaving ropes, carrying loads, or chopping wood. KIDS play or
               help the grown-ups.

               The Poet and Kyot beam smiles at the almost naked women.
               Boron and Rabbi Solomon turn their head to avoid seeing them.

               Anim leads the pilgrims to a group of THREE MEN and FIVE
               WOMEN, ONE PREGNANT, chatting and laughing, sitting on ground
               in a circle. Behind them,  TWO HUGE TIBETAN MASTIFFS nudge a
               small HERD of TAKIN GOATS.

               Anim introduces the pilgrims to the group of animists.

                                   ANIM
                             (polite smile)
                         They deserve praise for how far
                         they got, coming to come from afar  
                         and... weak as they look.

               Warm greetings from the hosts.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (jokingly)
                         We may look weak in body, but our
                         minds and hearts are strong.

               Kyot taps his head and mimics idiots.

                                   ANIM
                             (to the pregnant woman)
                         Mother Tree said you could let me
                         take Kylea hunting, if she wants
                         to.

               The woman turns around to look at a GIRL (12), running after
               a DOG. She nods agreeably.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Mother Tree seems wise.

                                   PREGNANT WOMAN
                         She's been there for such a long
                         time, seen the winds, the waters,
                         the mountains, the creatures living
                         in the forest. They all have a
                         soul... and share it with us for
                         comfort and advice when needed.

               A HUNTER (20), black man, approaches the group and offloads a
               DEER from his muscular shoulders.

                                   HUNTER
                             (reverently)
                         I asked if it could accept
                         sacrifice from the herd, and it
                         did.

               The animists lower their heads in gratitude prayer. The
               pilgrims give up curiosity for sensitivity.

               EXT. BUXA VILLAGE - DAY

               Kyot and The Poet lazily stretch on the porches of two
               adjacent high cabins, nodding happily at each other. Two
               TALL, SPORTY-BRAZILIAN-looking WOMEN (30-ish) come out from
               the cabins and hand them big, heavy water buckets.

               Kyot and The Poet look at each other vexed, then worried at
               the rope ladder hanging down.

               Down in the clearing, loaded with the buckets, they walk by
               the animists cutting wood, making ropes, or feeding the
               cattle.

                                   ANIM (O.S.)
                         ... is not too far.

               The Poet and Kyot walk by Anim and Baudolino and exchange
               greetings.

                                   ANIM
                         But the river is wide. You'll need
                         axes to cut trees and ropes to
                         build a raft.

               Kyot and The Poet just heard a new reason for concern.

               Huffing and puffing, they return loaded with the heavy, water
               filled buckets.

                                   THE POET
                         I'm not rafting anywhere!

                                   KYOT
                         I'd rather rafting than carrying
                         buckets of water.

               EXT. GADADHAR RIVER - MORNING
               SUPER: "JUNE 1195. CROSSING SAMBATYON"

               Rumbling noise. Rabbi wakes up dizzy, expression gradually
               changing to joy.

                                   RABBI
                         Must be Sambatyon... Sambatyon!

               He runs toward the source of the growing louder noise.

               He stops on the bank of a flood of mud, tree trunks, and
               boulders.

               Loaded with their backpacks, the pilgrims walk along the bank
               to find a crossing point, but there isn't one.

               But the flood slows down, and at a narrow stretch, the
               boulders and trunks pile up, form a bridge, and stop.

               Baudolino rushes over a boulder, encourages, and helps the
               others. Frightfully, they follow one by one, except for
               Rabbi. Ardzrouni, behind him, exchanges exasperated signs
               with Baudolino.

                                   RABBI
                         I kept the count of the days. It's
                         Sabbath! I am not crossing.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         Your brothers crossed it on
                         Sabbath! That's the only day it
                         stops.

               Baudolino mimics a whack on the head.

                                   RABBI
                         No! It stops on all other days.

               Unwillingly, Ardzrouni knocks Rabbi in the head, Rabbi
               faints. Ardzrouni gets him on his shoulders and crosses over.

               Behind them, the huge flash flood restarts, washes away the
               passage, and overflows on the shore. The pilgrims run up to
               higher ground. Rabbi wakes up on Ardzrouni's shoulder, sees
               the mud flood, and faints again.

               EXT. BRAHMAPUTRA RIVER - NORTHERN SHORE - DAY/NIGHT

               The pilgrims look in wonder, hopeless, at the immense expanse
               of the river meandering through large banks of sand.

               - LATER

               Heartless, and annoyed, The Poet and Kyot chop tree branches.
               Baudolino and Ardzrouni rope up trunks and secure provisions
               on them.

               - LATER

               Rabbi Solomon fishes with a spear, bekitcha tied above his
               knees. A big ripple wets his dress and extinguishes the fire
               cooking the fish. White smoke rises toward the dark,
               threatening clouds.

               EXT. BRAHMAPUTRA RIVER - DAY/NIGHT

               It rains, and it's windy. The raft floats on muddy waters
               close to the shore, through sandbanks, and gets stuck on some
               until the rising waters free it.

               Ardzrouni, The Poet, and Baudolino paddle forcefully toward
               the faster middle stream.

               - LATER

               It's getting darker. In the middle stream, an undercurrent
               swell inundates the raft. Panicked, the pilgrims manage to
               balance it.

               Rough stretch. The knots of the ropes come loose. Baudolino
               and The Poet struggle to tie them up.

               - LATER

               Pitch dark. In the middle of the rapid stream, the raft hits
               a sandbank and tilts. Boron and Rabbi fall into the water,
               Ardzrouni lunges to save them and manages to -- hold and pull
               Rabbi back.

               The others scan the torrent for Boron, but they can't see
               him.

               EXT. BRAHMAPUTRA RIVER - SOUTHERN SHORE - DAY
               SUPER: "JULY 1195. THE REALM BORDER"

               Calm day. Tree trunks slowly float in the small bay. The
               water level had receded. On the left, a PROMONTORY with a
               WALL OF REED, on the right, a DENSE THICKET.

               The Poet sleeps hugging a tree trunk. Baudolino stands up
               from the mud and looks around. Rabbi, Kyot, and Ardzrouni
               slowly move on the damaged raft washed ashore. Ardzrouni
               stands up and scrutinizes the shore and river.

               Baudolino wipes the mud from his shirt and checks the leather
               binding book and the bundle of parchments from his backpack --
               they are wet. He removes his shirt and unstraps the red tube
               from between his blade shoulders.

               Ardzrouni sees Baudolino checking the content of the tube --
               the papyrus and sealed parchment letters are dry.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         Two?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         One from Prester Johannes, the
                         diplomatic opening... and the
                         Emperor's response.

               Ardzrouni is impressed again. He didn't know about the first
               letter, and nods.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         I'm going to check... if Boron --

               He sloshes away toward the promontory.

               - LATER

               Rabbi checks his backpack, takes out the vial. Kyot takes out
               the censer cup from his backpack, then checks Boron's and
               takes out the box.

               Distressed, they look at the box and keep a moment of
               remembrance.

               The Poet walks into the thicket.

               MONTAGE: SURPRISE APPEARANCE

               -- Beyond the PROMONTORY, Ardzrouni scrutinizes the shore and
               riverbanks.

               -- Beyond the DENSE THICKET, The Poet gets out on higher
               ground, and looks at the large area with tall grass slowly
               swaying in the wind, and the hills afar.

               -- Beyond the WALL OF REED, Ardzrouni gets out on lower
               ground, and finds himself in front of a wall of grass taller
               than him.

               -- Beyond the DENSE THICKET, The Poet gets alert. Something
               cuts quickly through the tall grass. He loads an arrow aiming
               at it.

                                   THE POET
                             (shouting)
                         Watch-out!

               -- Beyond the WALL OF REED, Ardzrouni is alerted by The
               Poet's shout and rustling in front of him. A crutch parts the
               tall grass. Ardzrouni is startled by -- GAVAGAI (30), a
               handicapped man with a Skiapod tattoo on his bare chest.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         Over here!

               END OF MONTAGE

               The other pilgrims appear through the wall of reed.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Aleichem sabi!

                                   THE POET
                         Sounds like Greek to me.

               The man cocks his head and smiles.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Aleichem! What land is this?

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Whaaa! You speaks tong Priest
                         Johannes. I Gavagai.

               Enthusiastic about what they just heard, the pilgrims
               surround and guide Gavagai out of the reeds onto the shore.

               Gavagai looks at the broken raft, wet backpacks, and locks it
               on the cup, vial and box.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         You Maaagee! Here border Kingdom
                         Priest Johannes.

               He talks with ample body language using the crutches while
               keeping his balance surprisingly well. He is a friendly,
               happy man, in spite of his handicap.

               Ecstatic about the proximity to the Realm, the pilgrims hug.
               Gavagai smiles and waives a crutch for them to follow him.

               EXT. INLAND MEADOW - LATER

               The group walks through a small meadow with Baobab and Banyan
               trees at the base of a small hill.

               An ABORIGINAL MAN, short, big, purposely deformed earlobes by
               rings, a Panotian tattoo -- face with elephantine size ears --
               on his chest, stacks bundles of Banyan tree lianas on a
               barrier wall. He raises his hand.

                                   ABORIGINAL MAN
                             (in African dialect;
                              subtitled)
                         No more foreigners! 

                                   GAVAGAI
                             (crutch pointing at the
                              pilgrims, then beyond the
                              hill)
                         You stupid! Them good foreigners...
                         Maagi! Run city welcome
                         preparation.

                                   ABORIGINAL MAN
                             (shaking his head)
                         You run welcome preparation!

               Gavagai threatens the Aboriginal Man with his crutch. The man
               feigns a duck and decides that it's better to run.

               Gavagai limps backward, explaining.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         He Panotian family. Zink wrong -- 
                         heretics!

                                   KYOT
                             (mocking)
                         Heretics because they look
                         different than you?

                                   GAVAGAI
                         They no different, only zink wronk.

                                   THE POET
                         So, if they zing wronk and you zing
                         right, that's a difference.

                                   GAVAGAI
                             (stubborn)
                         No! I zink they zink wronk, they
                         zink I zink wronk, we equal, no
                         differenz.

               The Poet and Kyot are puzzled. Baudolino laughs.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Let's agree with  Gavagai on this
                         harmony concept.

               Gavagai leads the group through a Pomegranate and Dragon tree
               orchard.

               TWO SUMO-LOOKING MEN move lazily from one tree to another,
               picking and eating the fruits.

               They have a mythic Messalian tattoo on their backs -- a
               creature with a big belly, long neck, and beaked head. One of
               them slowly turns toward the group and bites on a pomegranate
               -- juices flow slowly on his narrow chest and big belly. No
               greetings.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Them Messalian, veak family, lazy.
                         Vorse, eat all day  fruit vorked by
                         others.

                                   THE POET
                         Why the others don't punish them?

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Vhat mean punish?

                                   THE POET
                         Well, beat them up, drive them
                         away! Don't you hate them?

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Vhat mean hate? Messalian family
                         only zink wronk, vhay hate.

               The Poet raises his hands exasperated. Gavagai registers it
               as a threat, falls on his back, and raises his leg in defense 
               -- big, callused foot.

               Baudolino pulls The Poet away and helps Gavagai up.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Don't vhory about him, he only zink
                         wronk.

               The group walks toward the distant village. The tops of
               conical bamboo huts stick above the abundant vegetation.
               Perched on the side of a mountain, a massive rundown seashell
               wooden structure resembling the Babylon Tower.
               EXT. PNADPETZIM VILLAGE - DAY

               Houses on stilts or dug into the mountain sandstone.

               Pnadpetzim people, MEN and WOMEN of various ethnicities,
               short, tall, skinny, fat, or athletic, crowd around the
               pilgrims. Although mostly unkept, some afflicted by disease
               or handicapped, they proudly display mythical tattoos on
               chests or backs, the signs of the group they belong to.

               A NUBIAN WARRIOR (20), very short, skinny, toy face, a short
               bow and long spear tied to his back, prostrates in front of
               Ardzrouni, who ducks to avoid the spear hit.

                                   NUBIAN WARRIOR
                         Magi! I want sacrify for you.

               Ardzrouni looks at Gavagai, who pushes the Nubian Warrior
               away with the crutch.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         He want sacrify for glory, when 
                         peace, not vhar. He zink wronk!

               Pnadpetzim People surround the pilgrims.

                                   PNADPETZIM PEOPLE
                         Maagi! Magiii!

               Baudolino pulls the box out from his backpack and looks at 
               Ardzrouni, who nudges Rabbi, who gets out the vial with balm.
               Kyot follows through with his studded censer cup. The three
               of them take a ceremonious stance. Gavagai draws their
               attention to the Tower.

               Climbing down the large Tower stairs, a procession of TWO
               PYGMIES, short, aboriginal look, carrying pillows, followed
               by a TALL EUNUCH, dark skin, dressed in colorful, clean
               clothes holding a scepter, next to him a short, FAT NUBIAN in
               military, worn-out gear adorned with decorations, FOUR
               NUBIANS heavily armed, two on each side of him, and FOUR
               EUNUCHS, dark skin, wrapped in colorful, worn-out dresses.

               The procession stops by the pilgrims. The pygmies extend the
               pillows with cakes and candies.

               Baudolino, Rabbi Solomon, and Kyot keep their relics visible.
               The Tall Eunuch, PRAXEAS (40), an infatuated deceiver
               gripping on his privileges, greets them.

                                   PRAXEAS
                             (emphatic)
                         I, Praxeas, Chief of the Deacon 
                         Guards, and all in Pnadpetzim,
                         welcome you....It fills me with joy
                         to see that the clement nature has
                         smoothed your path to Pnadpetzim,
                         in which I wish you a happy
                         sojourn.

               Praxeas glance is locked on Kyot's studded cup while
               distractedly touching Rabbi's vial and nonchalantly
               attempting to open Baudolino's box. Baudolino slams the lid
               closed. Praxeas twitches.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         You will certainly enjoy this
                         wondrous city...  
                             (more to the people)
                         the most flourishing you have ever
                         seen in your arduous journey.

               He nods at the Pnadpetzim People. They nod obediently.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Coming from afar and guided by the
                         Star, we bring these most precious
                         Christian relics to the King and
                         Priest Johannes, together with an
                         alliance proposal from my father,
                         the Emperor of the Holy Roman
                         Empire.

                                   PRAXEAS
                             (pointing at the Tower)
                         I will be honored to introduce you
                         and your grand mission to our
                         beloved Deacon Michael, the son of
                         Priest Johannes.

               EXT/INT. TOWER BASE/ATRIUM/CHURCH/CORRIDOR - DAY
               (Large stairs lead to the torus at the base of the Tower.
               The torus has a church, community, and habitation rooms for
               Eunuchs and Nubians. A round, interior base corridor provides
               access to the rooms. In the middle of the torus, an atrium
               with a landscaped map of the Realm. Above the torus, a
               taller, seashell-looking structure. An extension of the base
               corridor leads up on a round, slanted path to two higher
               levels and, at the top, Deacon's private quarters, a round
               atrium. The windows are to the exterior of the Tower. The
               whole structure shows visible signs of deterioration.)

               Praxeas leads the pilgrims up to the stairs landing.

               ATRIUM

               He emphatically points down at the landscaped map
               representing the Realm with golden church spires, orderly
               dwellings, and roadways. The Realm is surrounded by large
               rugged terrain and, at some distance, a dot for Pnadpetzim.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         We are fortunate to be protected by
                         natural borders but unfortunate to
                         be so far away from the Realm. Our
                         souls, though, are blessed by the
                         presence of Deacon Michael.

               The pilgrims nod in happy acknowledgment.

               CHURCH

               Praxeas leads the group into the nave. At the far end, a
               WHITE HAIR PRIEST (70) at the lectern, under a big painting,
               leads the prayers of the Pnadpetzim People sitting on
               benches.

                                   PNADPETZIM PEOPLE
                             (in Latin; subtitled; 
                              prayer in unison;)
                         ... living a life of unselfish
                         goodness.

                                   PRAXEAS
                             (emphatic)
                         Missionaries and handicapped people
                         attracted by the Priest Johannes's
                         fame and miracles --

               The pilgrims look around. On one wall, symbols of religions
               and icons, on the opposite one, subjects of miracles,
               crutches, wooden legs and arms, and heads of exorcised
               devils.

                                   PRAXEAS (O.S)
                         -- but also runaways and sinners
                         come here, try to reach the Realm,
                         perish or come back to stay....

               Armed Nubians walk watchfully. Bored Eunuchs stand along the
               walls.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         They congregate into families who
                         assert their superiority over the
                         others. The Deacon gives them
                         comfort, and... we have to control
                         them!

               Arrived at the far end, Praxeas points at the big painting of
               the majestic, very old Priest Johannes (150) and his young
               son (10), on the wall behind the White Hair Priest.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         Priest Johannes, and The Deacon
                         when he was young.
                         The Deacon is very compassionate
                         and teaches these unfortunate
                         people the value of... harmony and
                         equality... the quality of life
                         brought by love.

                                   WHITE HAIR PRIEST
                             (in Latin; subtitled;
                              leading the prayer;
                              background)
                         For goodness forever instead of
                         hatred.

               The group exits the church as the prayer continues.

                                   PNADPETZIM PEOPLE (O.S)
                             (in Latin; subtitled; 
                              prayer in unison)
                         ... goodness forever instead of
                         hatred.

               CORRIDOR

               Walking on the curved corridor, the group arrives at two
               adjacent doors.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         Make the best of your stay with us.
                         I'll let you know when the Deacon
                         can see you.

               EXT. MARKET - DAY

               A barter market on a windy, cloudy day. HEALTHY-LOOKING
               TRADERS, trade with the Pnadpetzim People. Under makeshift
               stalls or pens, DWARF ELEPHANTS, HAIRY DONKEYS hair waved and
               tied with colorful ribbons, and cages with EXOTIC-looking
               ROOSTERS and TURKEYS.

               On the side of the Tower torus, waiting in line, Healthy
               Traders flip or count coins. At the head of the line, two
               Eunuchs sit at a table and exchange gems and golden nuggets
               for coins.

               The wind intensifies, storm lightning strikes afar.

               Led by Gavagai, the pilgrims walk through the market.

               Kyot eyes two ABORIGINAL WOMEN (25,30), with enlarged
               earlobes with rings, a Panotian-Family tattoo on their backs.
               While washing the big ears of a dwarf elephant and its baby,
               they giggle shyly at Kyot, who nudges The Poet. 

               Next to the Women, a Panotian-Family tattooed MAN (30)
               tattoos with a sharp bone the family -- tattoo on the back of
               a KID (12).

                                   KYOT
                             (to Gavagai)
                         Are there any rivers of milk and
                         honey around?

                                   THE POET
                         Diamonds to dig for, anywhere?

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Eunuchs zay, maybe Realm.

                                   THE POET
                         So, how come nobody rushes to get
                         there?

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Many tried. Long way, danger.
                             (showing his crutches)
                         -- I tried.

               Gavagai looks around, afraid. The wind intensifies, and the
               thunder strikes closer.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Eunuch zecret map. Start from
                         tunnel.

                                   THE POET
                         We can ask the Deacon for it.

               Agitated by the approaching storm, the exotic birds CROAK.

                                   GAVAGAI
                             (shaking head, nodding)
                         Deacon prays, Praxeas orderz!

               Thunders struck, heavy rain starts, and everybody runs for
               cover.

               INT. TOWER - PILGRIMS' ROOM - NIGHT

               Praxeas enters, rain dripping from his mantle.

               Abdul and The Poet, playing jackstones on the floor,
               Ardzrouni and Baudolino, sitting at a table, turn their
               heads.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         We have the worst monsoon in years.
                         The tunnel... the head trail to the
                         Realm had collapsed.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         When can we see the Deacon?

               Praxeas is annoyed by Baudolino's disregard for the dire
               situation and is about to leave the room.

                                   PRAXEAS
                             (head turning)
                         Not now! He is thoroughly
                         distressed by the extent and damage
                         caused by the floods.

               Praxeas leaves.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                             (puzzled)
                         Why do we need to see the Deacon?
                         Why didn't you show him Priest
                         Johannes' letter?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         I don't trust him. This letter will
                         be shown only --
                             (meaningful glance around)
                         -- at the right moment.

               EXT. HOPES HILL PLATEAU - DAY

               On hairy donkeys, Baudolino and Ardzrouni look around. To the
               left, a small lake overflows into a fall. To the right, the
               mouth of a tunnel under a massive arc. Down in the valley,
               tall grass, ferns, and a few round, stone hovels in ruin.
               Beyond the valley, as far as one can see, a rugged,
               unwelcoming no man's land landscape bordered by faraway
               mountains.

               Baudolino daydreams. 

BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION: DEACON GLORIOUS TOWER The no man's land landscape MORPHS into one with rivers of milk and honey meandering through beautiful meadows with flowers. ZOOMING into Pnadpetzim red dot, the damaged Deacon's tower MORPHS to a glorious Babylon look-alike tower shining in a sky surrounded by translucent, white wing-like clouds. BACK TO SCENE They dismount at the mouth of the tunnel, look up at the large cracks on its walls, and decide to proceed. Long, dark tunnel. The tunnel exit is almost completely obstructed by collapsed boulders. Two Nubians jump from behind them, shouting. NUBIANS (shouting) The Magogs! Magogs fires. Ardzrouni and Baudolino make it through the collapsed area. The sun's rays break through the Monsoon clouds. Ivy hangs down along the strong stream of the fall. Ahead, a large flooded area with tree trunks covered by water. The Nubians point at the faraway thin plumes of smoke, embrace and start a joyful dance. Ardzrouni looks afar and shakes his head. ARDZROUNI (dismissive) Not smoke... just clouds! He then points above at the puffy, white clouds brilliantly lit by the sun. ARDZROUNI Heavenly sky! Only the cherubs are missing. BAUDOLINO Hope they show up with good, not devilish omens. EXT. AMPHITHEATER - DAY Another day with heavenly sky. The afternoon sun rays bathe the white clouds fringes in orange tones. Wind flaps the flags around the 100 feet amphitheater built with three wood enclosures. In the arena, Nubians practice sword fighting in three groups of three and four. The Fat Nubian, lame commander NUBEESMAK (50) and Praxeas sit in the second enclosure. Baudolino, The Poet, and Ardzrouni sit on the third. Four Eunuchs fan them from the sides with big Raffia Palm leaves. Aggressive shouting and lame fighting stop in one of the groups. Nubian One looks at the wood splinters of his broken sword. The drill stops in all groups. Nubian One goes to a pile of swords and picks a new one up. NUBEESMAK (stands up, shouts) Don-don't s-ss-top! F-ff-ight! Exhausted by stuttering, he sits down. Baudolino, The Poet, and Ardzrouni muffle laughters. Praxeas rolls his eyes. The Poet bends over to Nubeesmak. THE POET Why are the swords breaking so often? NUBEESMAK Woo-woo-'d -- PRAXEAS -- We know about swords and spears made of something much stronger. ARDZROUNI That's iron. It's in the ground. PRAXEAS (hands raising to sky) God did not show us the way to it, whether in the ground or heavens. Nubian One is about to hit his partner when a stone falls from the sky right in front of him and splatters sand in his face. He spits the sand and looks at the -- smoldering dark stone mixed with shiny crystals. Trembling, he points up at the traces of falling meteorites. NUBEESMAK (freaking out) Ma-maa... gog attack! Ruuun! Big and small meteorites hit the arena splashing sand, breaking the enclosures, and smoldering. Everybody runs in panic. ARDZROUNI God may have just given us iron! EXT. FOREST - DAY Echo of hammering from and smoke above the forest. Ardzrouni shapes a hot bar into a sword, using a hammer made from a meteorite -- tied up with a rope to a wooden handle. Next to him, a rudimentary glowing furnace made of stones, and a pile of charcoal. Two Nubians pump a forge bellow. Ardzrouni keeps hammering. The frayed rope breaks and the meteorite bounces up. Ardzrouni dodges, The Nubians laugh. ARDZROUNI Keep pumping if you want swords! Technology is the miracle of making tools... to make weapons! INT. DEACON TOWER - CORRIDOR - DAY SUPER: "DECEMBER 1196. MEETING THE DEACON" Praxeas leads Baudolino, Rabbi Solomon, and Ardzrouni on the curved, upwards-slanted corridor. On the balustrade, burned out candles on holders. PRAXEAS The frail Deacon was badly shaken by the stone fires from the sky (rolling his eyes) ...he calls them tears, St. Laurence tears. At the entrance to the atrium, two Eunuchs uncross their spears. INT. DEACON ATRIUM - DAY DEACON MICHAEL, head and shoulders covered by a white cloth, sits on a big chair carved from a tree trunk. A ten-foot radius line surrounds the throne, a large baptism basin outside. A pattern of damaged wood planks on the floor and wood trusses on the ceiling dome. Praxeas gets a tin censer from a pedestal, lights the white frankincense, walks to and kneels at the line. The pilgrims follow. Praxeas pushes the fuming censer toward the Deacon. The Deacon raises his head -- eyes scrutinizing the visitors through the small, rectangular mesh in the cloth. DEACON (faint voice) I welcome emissaries so closely resembling the Magi, a good omen after the terrifying tears of St. Lawrence -- What were they foreboding? The Magogs threatening my father's Realm? ARDZROUNI Deacon Michael, the celestial stones were a gift from God. I taught your people to turn them into tools to work the land and swords to protect the Realm. DEACON (official tone) It must be protected! A land of religious harmony -- People got here with hardened souls, some marred by hate. Praxeas nods in ample agreement. DEACON But we heal their souls to make them worthy of living in the Realm. The Deacon waves away the frankincense fumes. Ardzrouni gets the censer cup from his coat, adds amber-ish frankincense, is about to give it to Praxeas but changes his mind and pushes it toward the Deacon. Praxeas doesn't like that. ARDZROUNI Deacon Michael, this frankincense honors your and your father's divinity. BAUDOLINO We are happy to contribute to the worthy cause of healing the soul and minds of Pnadpetzim people. But our mission is to present to your (producing the red tube) father this important message from the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, my father. Please grant us the passage to -- PRAXEAS -- Priest Johannes must be notified first! DEACON -- Notify my father....Yes, a long journey -- PRAXEAS -- and wait for his consent. Behind the mesh, the Deacon's eyes close, probably stirred by sad thoughts. He lowers his head. Praxeas stands up and signals that the audience is over. Disillusioned, the pilgrims bow and leave, rather pushed by Praxeas. The Deacon raises his head and hand as if he would want them to stay. INT. BAUDOLINO ROOM - NIGHT Streaks of rain on the window. The flame of the candle on the table flickers under a pale of draught. The Poet and Ardzrouni play an improvised chess game with wood-carved pieces on squares drawn on the floor. Bent over the leather binding book, Baudolino draws the last lines of a nymph sketch resembling Hathor with her Eye of Ra tattoo. He likes the sketch and enjoys the memory of her. And he also remembers Rabbi bestiary manuscript. BAUDOLINO FLASH MEMORY: RABBI BESTIARY Rabbi snoozes over the manuscript with illustrations of mythical creatures, one-legged Skiapod, elephantine-ears Panotian, and headless, eyes and mouth on the chest, Blemmyae.
               BACK TO SCENE

               Imagination inflamed, he starts drawing one by one mythical
               creatures resembling the people's tattoos: a PANOTIAN FEMALE
               with small breasts and elephantine ears, a SKYAPOD with one
               big foot, and a COCKATRICE resembling a weird rooster.

               Ardzrouni wins the game, stands up, stretches, and peeks
               amused at Baudolino's sketches. Upset by his loss, The Poet
               sweeps away the chess figures. Rabbi and Kyot enter the room.
               The latter joins Ardzrouni in glancing at Baudolino's
               sketches.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         And what could those be?

                                   KYOT
                             (slip of tongue)
                         Whatever he imagined when we wrote
                         the Priest's letter!

                                   ARDZROUNI
                             (confused)
                         What "imagined the letter" means?

               Strong gale of wind. The others look at each other mum.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                             (angry, at Baudolino)
                         You crazy liars! You wrote that
                         letter?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (fending off)
                         It's not crazy to have imagination.
                         And it's not a shame to lie for a
                         good deed -- You came with us to
                         save your life... imagined good
                         things for yourself, didn't you?
                         So, if you want yours to come true,
                         you must believe. Like we do!

               He nods, prodding the others to agree. Hesitantly they do. He
               points at the sketches on the open book.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (proudish)
                         And this is how it's going down in
                         history, in my chronicle. Because
                         if it is written, it becomes the
                         truth. -- That's what Otto taught
                         me!

               Wonderment from Rabbi and The Poet, smirk from Kyot.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         That's delusional! How could I lie
                         to my friend Queen Tamar?

                                   KYOT
                         Easy! You're noble enough for that.
                         It'll be wise to marry her first,
                         though.

               The Poet and Kyot laugh with gusto. Ardzrouni gets out
               slamming the door. Silence. Rabbi is embarrassed.

                                   RABBI
                         We sinned by lying. Even in
                         imagination, a lie weighs heavy on
                         God's scale. Could we help these
                         unfortunate people... to redeem
                         ourselves?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Well? Remember Gavagai harmony
                         concept. Instead of thinking of
                         them as different, we can see them 
                             (pointing at sketches)
                         ...like this, friendly... hmmm,
                         equal to us. And we redeem
                         ourselves by helping them.

                                   THE POET
                         That's ridiculous!
                             (looking at Baudolino's
                              sketches)
                         Helping these... what? Are we
                         planning to stay here forever?

                                   KYOT
                         That's weird. Mythical? Could be
                         fun!

               EXT. PNADPETZIM VILLAGE - DAY

               Kyot and The Poet follow the two Aboriginal Women who MORPH
               into PANOTIAN FEMALES, short and pretty despite their
               elephantine ears. They glance back, giggle, and chastely
               cover their small breasts with their ears, as they climb the
               stairs of the Tower.
               EXT. PNADPETZIM FOREST - DAY

               Rabbi Solomon walks through the brush, looks, and picks-up
               weeds. Holding two similar weeds, he explains to a Pigmy.

                                   RABBI
                         This spiky, poison. This medicine.

               The Pygmy nods and puts them in separate bags.

                                   PYGMY
                         You beard like Rabbi.

                                   RABBI
                         How do you know about Rabbi?

                                   PYGMY
                         Old Pnadpetzim talk many long beard
                         once travel here.

                                   RABBI
                             (dreamy)
                         My brothers! I'm falling in their
                         footsteps... and soon will be
                         joining them!

               EXT. PNADPETZIM MARKET - DAY

               Sunny day. A tune of a rhythmic flute. Colorful clubs juggle
               in the air.

               Kyot focuses on them flying up and down and smiles, furtively
               glancing at the two Panotian Females dancing to the Pigmy's
               tune. The Poet claps his hands prompting the crowd of
               BLEMMYAES, MESSALIANS, SKIAPODS and CYCLOPS to enjoy the
               show.
              EXT. TOWER BASE - CORRIDOR - NIGHT

               A faint sound of music. Praxeas and Baudolino, followed by
               the other pilgrims, walk on the curved torus corridor.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (upset)
                         -- We had enough of making "the
                         best of our times". Was the
                         Deacon's letter sent?

                                   PRAXEAS
                         The health of Deacon Michael was an
                         obstacle. It took time for him to
                         write it. Yes, I've sent it with a
                         messenger. Trust me!

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (distrustful)
                         We may not need to wait for Priest
                         Johannes' approval. Please arrange
                         for a new audience with the Deacon!

                                   PRAXEAS
                         Every year on Monsoon time, he
                         retreats in prayers and meditation.
                         I will try but....

               Praxeas stops at a door and opens it. Loud music.

               COMMUNITY ROOM - CONTINUOUS

               The group enters a room with three raised alcoves, one big in
               the center and two smaller on the sides. Pillows, small
               tables, hunting trophies, and African masks on the walls. 

               Praxeas invites the group to sit in the central alcove. On
               the other two, White Hair Priest, TWO OLD CLERICS, Nubeesmak
               and two high ranking Nubians.

               At the tables below, the Nubians drink and eat. Two Pygmies
               play a balafon and a flute.

               The Poet looks intrigued at the Nubians who dip their tongues
               in tinny cups and laugh with high pitches.

               Two Pygmies bring big fuming plates with pangolin shells and
               tinny cups with drinks in Praxeas's alcove. The Pygmies
               unwrap the shells -- a burst of fumes.

               The pilgrims gag at the foul smell. On the plates, clusters
               of fried rolled snakes, giant iguanas and tarantulas, exotic
               cockatrice chicks with spiky whiskers, pitaya, and persimmon
               fruits. The Poet looks with aversion at the Tarantulas.

                                   THE POET
                             (pointing)
                         These are poisonous!

                                   KYOT
                         Funny babies!

                                   PRAXEAS
                             (smiling at both)
                         The more dangerous... and funnier,
                         the tastier.

               The Poet turns his head, hiding disgust, picks up a tinny cup
               and gulps down the drink. His eyes bulge and roll. He tries
               to speak but cannot. Kyot hits him on the back.

                                   PRAXEAS
                             (laughing)
                         Burq is only to dip your tongue in,
                         too strong to swallow.

               EXT. FERN VALLEY - DAY
               SUPER: "APRIL 1199. MAGOGS BEYOND THE MOUNTAINS"

               The upper body of the riders, two tall Eunuchs, the heads of
               TWO WHITE DWARF ELEPHANTS and THREE HAIRY DONKEYS cut through
               the tall grass and fern vegetation.

               The Eunuchs open the way with long spears. Behind them,
               Baudolino (58) and Praxeas swing slowly in the double saddle
               atop an elephant. SKIAPOD GAVAGAI hops along.
              The Poet (54) and Nubeesmak share the other elephant's
               saddle. The Nubians struggle to keep up with them through the
               tall grass.

               Ardzrouni (50) and Rabbi (70) ride each on hairy donkeys.
               Kyot (60) and a Panotian Female share another donkey. She
               holds her ears wrapped around Kyot's chest -- his arms
               tattooed with a Panotian female figure.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         -- Wasn't the messenger supposed to
                         be back from the Realm?

                                   PRAXEAS
                         The route is challenging, even
                         though he has the map, and long.
                         And --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         -- But the Realm cannot be this
                         far?

                                   PRAXEAS
                             (a grimace in place of an
                              answer)
                         And also dangerous... and now the
                         Magogs. You never know where they
                         are and when they'll attack.

               Distrustful, Baudolino shakes his head. But then he nods in
               the sway of the elephant or in confirmation of a doubt.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         The Realm....Moving farther and 
farther away. EXT. HOPES HILL - DAY The caravan reaches the plateau. Nubians practice fighting with steel spears and swords. They see the caravan, stop and stand at attention. The riders dismount. Nubeesmak walks to the ridge and points at the plumes of smoke above the near side of the faraway mountains. NUBEESMAK Ddzzz-ere! He pulls a small flask from his belt and sticks his tongue to lick a drop of burq. He hands the flask over to The Poet, who -- warrior tattoo on his arm and a longbow across his chest -- takes a hearty gulp, exhales satisfied, and burps. Praxeas pulls Baudolino and Ardzrouni -- both armed with the rudimentary swords forged by Ardzrouni -- away from the group. The Poet follows them. PRAXEAS They were spotted many times in the past, but they did not attack. If they do, we cannot fight them. THE POET We can! We have to fight! The Poet takes another gulp of burq. PRAXEAS (demeaning) Who's we? Eunuchs are not trained to fight! The Nubians? They'll throw themselves under the Magog horses' hoofs... for the joy of sacrifice. BAUDOLINO (pointing at the tunnel) Why do we need to fight? Let's just retreat to the Realm and engage the powers of Priest Johannes! PRAXEAS Not what we need. There is... aagh... too much equality in the Realm, and we'd lose our positions. However, if you defend Pnadpetzim, we'll be all rewarded for the glory of defending the Realm. BAUDOLINO We did not get this far to fight the Magogs. The Poet pulls Baudolino aside and whispers, a bit tipsy. THE POET We want to fight from here. Praa-x eas offers us a big chance. They are rich and pow-pow-aw'ful! Drunkenness advancing, he pulls Baudolino back to the group. THE POET Listen! We'll teach everybb-oddy what a good sport -- I mean ff fight is -- Le' me tell you hh-how… Unsteady, thrilled by the prospect of military glory, he points at the Fern Valley and distant mountains. THE POET IMAGINATION: STRATEGY AGAINST MAGOGS The landscape MORPHS into an irregular chessboard with patches of tall grass, bushes, and hills.
               Behind the mountain line, the Magog, black chess-like Knight horse 
figures pop up and down threateningly. At the far end of the Fern Valley, the two Messalians' long necks stick above the ruined hovels, white chess-like Rooks towers. THE POET (V.O.) On the front la-la-ine, the Mess-aa lians signal the atta-haack of Magogs' mooo-ovements. The Messalians lazily signal by burning green grass for white smoke and oil-soaked rags for black. THE POET (V.O.) Next, the Blah-blah-mmyaes hee-he dden in the ferns and Cyclops be-h hind in the ta-taall grass... The Magogs' black Knight horses advance hopping and stop when the headless Blemmyaes, white straight cylinder Pawn chess figures, pop up from the ferns. THE POET (V.O.) -- The Blah-blah-mmyaes jump from the ughh... ff-f-ern to conf-uuse the Magogs. At the sight of the headless Blemmyaes, the Magogs' black Knight horses bray of laughter, rear and topple off their riders. The one-eyed Cyclops attack them with bats. THE POET (V.O.) Next la-la-ine of defense, the Pee pygmies and Ski -aaapods. A volley of poisoned darts thrown by the pygmies hit the Magogs' Knight horses. The Knight horses rear, wobble sleepy, then suddenly rear high, throw the Magogs off the saddle, and run away erratically. The one-legged Skiapods stomp on the fallen Magog-Pawns. THE POET (V.O.) Any Magogs ess-ka-caping, the Panotians over-whel-whel-mmm them by la-landing on their heads. From the Pnadpetzim strait versant across the Hopes Hill, Panotians with ears spread out like wings kamikaze-dive on Magogs Knight figures. BACK TO SCENE SKIAPOD GAVAGAI Long live the most holy Magi! Long live Pnadpetzim! Puzzlement turning into grief, Baudolino covers his face with his hands. He walks away toward the tunnel, followed by the donkey. Praxeas embraces The Poet. They all get in formation and leave. ARDZROUNI (to Praxeas) However, we don't have time to train Pnadpetzim -- PRAXEAS -- Yes, we do! The monsoon is about to start. The Magogs will not attack during the monsoon. From the mouth of the tunnel, Baudolino looks back. Skiapod Gavagai argues his intention by shaking his head. Baudolino frowns dismissively and enters the tunnel. EXT. TUNNEL TO WATERFALL LAKE - DAY He walks in the dark tunnel. MONTAGE: BAUDOLINO FLASH MEMORIES -- Crema prisoners tied up on the siege tower being shot at with arrows by their compatriots... Violence... (V.O.) -- Mud and blood on Frederick's face at Legnano, blinking... War... (V.O.) -- Frederick kissing the Pope's red shoe... Humiliation... (V.O.) -- Happenstance of his and Beatrice's profiles almost touching... Innocence... (V.O.) -- Hathor looking at him languorously, promising... Passion... (V.O.) Light at the far end of the tunnel. BAUDOLINO (V.O) Soul strong enough to keep believing? EXT. WATERFALL LAKE - CONTINUOUS In April, the floods had receded. Fog hangs low over the lake. He walks on the shore of the small lake toward the dense forest, then stops and looks back. The hanging ivy and flowers sprang back to luxuriant blossom. Birds fly and chirp. The waterfall just trickles. He turns toward the forest. BAUDOLINO (V.O.) ... into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul. Blinded by the sunrays aura, he blinks. The waterfall and chirping sound are gradually replaced by rustling from the forest. He turns. A branch swaying under a gust of wind triggers an BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION FLASHBACK In Terdona forest, the white Unicorn trots, inviting him to play. -- And that flashback extends into aN BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION FLASH-FORWARD The branches' sway stops. A white Unicorn comes out from the forest, snorts, and playfully shakes its mane. The Unicorn turns its head toward the forest. HATHOR (30), with long, whitish hair, and a long white dress, comes out to get the Unicorn back. But she sees Baudolino. With a smooth gait, she approaches him, followed by the Unicorn. Aulos tune.
               Baudolino is happy. The donkey whines a smile.

               She scrutinizes him, touches the scar on his cheek, then
               looks at -- the sword.

                                   HATHOR
                         A real man. Lover of war and
                         violence!
                             (mocking)
                         -- Grace and pleasure?

               She gently embraces the Unicorn's neck and walks back into
               the forest.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Wait! Come back!

                                   HATHOR (V.O)
                         Tomorrow.

               EXT. PNADPETZIM - LATER

               Baudolino is met by Skiapod Gavagai, who keeps hopping along.
               Baudolino doesn't pay much attention to him.

                                   SKIAPOD GAVAGAI
                         Dangeroez alone try cross.

               Baudolino keeps walking, ignoring him.

                                   SKIAPOD GAVAGAI
                         I tried!

               Baudolino stops and looks at Gavagai leaning on his crutch.
               The latter looks down.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Had two, vhaz wiz otherz. Very
                         long, no water, poizon lakes,
                         strange dremz, animal attack.
                         Otherz die. No remember how came
                         back.

               Baudolino just turns and walks away.

               EXT. WATERFALL LAKE - DAY/NIGHT

               A flute at his belt, instead of the sword on his back,
               Baudolino scouts the forest's tree line. The donkey grazes.

               At dawn, he lies down on the grass, rests his head on a
               boulder, and plays an aulos tune with the flute. He stops and
               closes his eyes, lips calling for Hathor.

               BAUDOLINO DREAM

               Hathor comes out from the forest, her hair glowing under the
               full moon rays. She sits on the grass next to him, and looks
               at his body from toe to head, her hand following without
               touching. Hand close to his head, she sees that he was
               watching her.

               She retreats her hand. He gently takes hers.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (smiling)
                         I have to hold your hand... so that
                         you stay.

                                   HATHOR
                         Not for too long. We're busy with
                         preparations for... the honey
                         offering.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (funny)
                         Green honey?

                                   HATHOR
                             (ignoring him)
                         ... Dionysus honey... offered for
                         my sisters' sacrifice.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Sacrifice? Sisters --

                                   HATHOR
                         -- Sisterhood. Hesper Sisterhood -- 
                         Every year, some of us have to
                         sacrifice to the fecundators.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (aghast)
                         Fecundators!-- Any brothers in your
                         sisterhood?

                                   HATHOR
                         They take the boys, we keep the
                         girls. That's how we maintained the
                         tradition... of tending to the
                         Trees of Knowledge... the orchard
                         with the Golden Apples.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Ahh! The Tree of Knowledge...
                             (upset)
                         the Serpent and the Sin --

               She also gets upset and stands up...

                                   HATHOR
                             (brisk)
                         -- In your Bible! In our teachings,
                         the Serpent enlightened Adam and
                         Eve. They were to grow thousands of
                         kids to foster the earth's revival
                         through love for knowledge and
                         fertility.

               ... and walks away without a farewell.

               He leans on an elbow, watching her.

                                   HATHOR (O.S)
                         Be back at full moon!

               INT. PILGRIM ROOM - DAY

               A hand moves colored pebbles on a Fern Valley strategic map
               made from small piles of grass patches resembling The Poet's
               imaginary battlefield chessboard.

               Crouched on the floor, Ardzrouni and The Poet nod in
               agreement. Cross-legged on the floor, Kyot juggles with gem
               meteorite stones.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         The blue moon! When is the moon
                         blue?

               Ardzrouni and The Poet turn their heads. Kyot keeps juggling.
               Sleepy, Baudolino gets off the bed.

                                   THE POET
                         Blue moon is once in a blue moon!

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         Never blue. Called blue if it's
                         full twice in the same month.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (still sleepy)
                         Which month? How do I know?

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         By the trees' blossoms....I think
                         we are in the month of Maia, the
                         Goddess of Spring. Watch the skies
                         about thirty days from now.

                                   THE POET
                         What's going --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (waking up wondering)
                         -- she comes back from her sisters'
                         celebration.

                                   THE POET
                             (humorous, interested)
                         Ohh, yeees? Innocent dreamer,
                         experienced liar! -- Who's she?
                         Sisters? Tell her to bring them
                         over.

               Annoyed, Ardzrouni swipes away the pebbles from the map. Kyot
               jolts, the juggling pebbles fall.

                                   KYOT
                             (laughing his head off)
                         Delusional!

                                   ARDZROUNI
                             (upset)
                         I am glad to see your interest in
                         defending Pnadpetzim!... The Deacon 
just invited us to explain our
strategy. EXT. DEACON TOWER - CORRIDOR - NIGHT Consumed candles on the balustrade, some flicker, some go off. Holding on to the balustrade, Baudolino walks ahead of Praxeas on the slanted-up corridor. In the EYE OF HIS MIND, the consumed candles RISE to new with strong flames. The broken wood structures MORPH into golden decorated panels studded with precious stones sparkling in the light of the candles. PRAXEAS (O.S.) (to The Poet) The Deacon was invigorated to hear about your strategy to defend Pnadpetzim. I mean the Realm, of course. DEACON ATRIUM - CONTINUOUS Baudolino advances in the atrium. Enjoying his delusion, he looks around at the tall windows in recessed arcades and precious stones studded in columns softly glimmering in the lights of the candles.
                                  DEACON (O.S)
                         Welcome my friends!

               Draped in a shiny silver cloth, the Deacon stands up from the
               ivory-carved, silver-inlaid throne.

               Praxeas, fuming censer in hand, The Poet, Ardzrouni, and
               Baudolino kneel by the circle. Arabesque designs extend from
               it all over the marble floor. Praxeas pushes the fuming
               censer inside the circle.

                                   DEACON
                         What do Magogs want from us? We
                         have nothing except our faith!

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Jerusalem always had "nothing
                         except" faith... its Dome of the
                         Rock a place of worship loaded with
                         history... and legends about
                         Abraham, Moses... Jesus and
                         Muhammad.

                                   DEACON
                         So, Jerusalem must now be united in
                         religious tolerance. "E pluribus
                         unum!"
                             (subtitled)
                         "Unity in Diversity!"

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Is this how your father achieved
                         harmony? See...
                         Jerusalem was and is still swept by
                         distrust between the faithful of
                         different dogmas. Then, there are
                         differences in beliefs and
                         interests between Jerusalem and the
                         empires around. Intolerance
                         prevails!

                                   DEACON
                         My father is different, looks for
                         inclusion. Yes, the Magogs' beliefs
                         are different than ours. Shouldn't
                         we then accept them?

               Horrified, Praxeas shakes his head.

                                   THE POET
                         Infidels! They are different... in
                         a wrong way, and we have to fight
                         them!
                             (unrolling the map)
                         And here is the strategy. We will
                         train your people to fight and win!

               Baudolino disagrees, shakes his head.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Deacon Michael. It will be better
                         for us to travel to the Realm and
                         bring your powerful father's might
                         into the fight.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         There is no time! And the glory of
                         our victory will be the best
                         recommendation for your worthy
                         mission.

               The Deacon takes HIS time to react, then slowly nods at The
               Poet.

               The Poet and Ardzrouni start explaining the strategy. Their
               voices fade as Baudolino turns his head toward the arcade
               window. Silence. The full moon slowly rises. The voices
               become suddenly audible, and Baudolino, waking up from his
               reverie, stands up.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Esteemed Deacon. I have an
                         essential promise to keep. Please
                         allow me to retire.

               The Deacon nods. The others refrain with difficulty their
               disapproval.

               EXT. TOWER - NIGHT

               Skiapod Gavagai hops along Baudolino, who descends the stairs
               of the tower.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         Howz meeting?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         The Deacon wants us to fight.

               Skiapod Gavagai stops hopping. Baudolino keeps walking.

                                   SKIAPOD GAVAGAI (O.S.)
                         You go lake? Zink wrong!

               Irritated, Baudolino stops and turns to look at -- Gavagai
               with crutches.

                                   GAVAGAI
                         You respect Magi, must help
                         Pnadpetzim defense, like otherz --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (dismissively)
                         -- I am not otherz. I'm different.

               EXT. WATERFALL LAKE - NIGHT

               Under the full moon, Baudolino walks in the forest, the
               trees' shadows and moon light alternating on him.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         ... met people believing in either
                         many gods, just one God, a God with
                         ninety-nine names, a God and an
                         Evil, some believing that the
                         nature's trees, rivers, and rocks
                         have a soul, others searching for
                         enlightenment from themselves.

               And he surrenders to the world of his imagination.  

               BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION: HATHOR BLASPHEMIES

               Aulos tune. Hathor MATERIALIZES and, embracing his midriff,
               guides him toward a clearing.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         And now, Priest Johannes. One God
                         for all... a universal religion?

               Hathor stiffens and stops. Wind starts, clouds covers the
               moon.

                                   HATHOR
                             (bemused)
                         Priest Johannes. Religion
                         universal!? Who's universal?

               A gust of wind. Strands of hair whip her face.

                                   HATHOR
                             (angry)
                         One God for all? Why not many gods?
                         Gods for arts, granted, for war,
                         but  pleasure and beauty as well.
                         Worshiping diversity makes people
                         more tolerant toward others.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Faith must be for all in One God!

               The rising wind brings heavier clouds, and thunders strike
               far away. Hathor stiffens and stops. Then she laughs with
               gusto. Thunder noise amplifies.

                                   HATHOR
                         You think that's possible simply
                         because YOU believe in it?
                             (louder to cover thunder
                              noises)
                         Your God then needs redemption! He
                         has to stop preaching the
                         Apocalypse against the "sinful" to
                         instill fear of sickness, hunger,
                         and --

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         -- Blasphemy! WE need redemption
                         because we failed to believe in the
                         goodness of the Holy Spirit. He
                         created us to carry that Spirit in
                         our souls.

                                   HATHOR
                         God did not create us....You
                         created Him!

               Thunders strike all over, a tree catches fire. The wind blows
               stronger, the rainstorm starts.

                                   HATHOR
                             (forceful)
                         Ironically, we made Him define good
                         and evil, and He, in turn, forces
                         us to be good for the promise of
                         heaven or fear of hell.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (flabbergasted)
                         How could you believe that!

               She calmly raises her head in defiance of the raging storm.

                                   HATHOR
                         I had eaten the fruit of the Tree
                         of Knowledge. I want to decide by
                         myself what is good and bad...
                         learn from the permanence of Heaven
                         and Hell, Order and Chaos. We
                         transcend through the cycles of
                         Life and Death, Pleasure and Pain
                         toward the light of shared
                         knowledge and collective
                         consciousness.

               Thunders and lighting at the apogee. She farewells and
               disappears into the forest.

               Standing still, Baudolino is blasted by the storm and
               drenched by the pouring rain. 

EXT. FERN VALLEY - DAY Two Cyclops shape up stones with rudimentary meteorite hammers. Another one kneads clay and gravel in a big bucket. Baudolino directs two others to rebuild the ruined hovels.
                                 SKIAPOD GAVAGAI (O.S.)
                             (yelling)
                         Deacon invite! Deacon want
                         Baudolino.

               He hops closer, waving a small roll of fabric. The Cyclops
               and Baudolino turn.

               Baudolino reads the message, then friendly taps Skiapod
               Gavagai on the shoulder. The Cyclops look at them with
               disdain.

                                   CYCLOP
                             (loudly)
                         How could Magi like heretic
                         Skiapods?

               Skiapod Gavagai throws him a look charged with disdain.

               INT. DEACON ATRIUM - DAY

               Baudolino walks into the atrium with the red tube in hand --
               arm tattooed with the blended heads of a nymph and unicorn.
               Praxeas rushes in front of him, gets the censer with burning
               coal from the pedestal, and adds the white frankincense.

               The Deacon stands up from the edge of the basin to greet
               them. Fuming censer in hand, Praxeas walks to a window and
               invites the Deacon to the one next to it. He puts down the
               censer and pushes it toward the Deacon.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         Deacon Michael, please look at the
                         brave Pnadpetzim people learning to
                         defend our village and the Realm.

               The Deacon walks to the window looking at the censer.

                                   DEACON
                         Is that Ardzrouni's frankincense?    
                         -- I need a private conversation
                         with Sire Baudolino.

               Vexed, Praxeas walks out, followed by the Deacon's glance.

               The Deacon turns his attention to Baudolino. A piece of
               Praxeas's bottom mantle remains visible -- he just hid
               outside the entrance to listen.

                                   DEACON
                         You spoke about other people's
                         wars, faiths, intolerance, but...
                         what about you... what moves your
                         soul?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Gratefulness to my adoptive father,
                         the Emperor, fighting along in his
                         wars... the memory of my poor
                         father dyeing blissfully thinking
                         of... Rosina. Then my emotions of
                         young love... fantasies about the
                         unknown and... the desire to prove
                         them real.

                                   DEACON
                         But no doubts about them being
                         real? I have no fantasies, just
                         doubts...
                             (toward hidden Praxeas)
                         about what I'm being told.

               Praxeas's visible piece of the mantle is withdrawn.

               Tormented, the Deacon walks agitated between the window and
               the basin.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Doubts? Yes... but believing must
                         prevail....

               But looking at the red tube, he is overcome by doubt and
               shame.   

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O)
                         -- in my own lies? -- And lying to 
                         -- 

               The atrium glitz FADES AWAY, returning to its poor
               appearance, and the Deacon's veil changes from shining, back
               to the ordinary cloth.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (feeling justified)
                         -- I owed it to my fathers!

                                   DEACON
                             (overwhelmed)
                         Fathers....I don't know mine!
                         Neither natural nor -- I was
                         chosen, from here, to be Priest
                         Johannes's son,
                             (looking at the
                             (frankincense plume)
                         one in a long series of others, as
                         the tradition goes.
                             (angry; towards the
                              entrance)
                         What is the truth? What do I owe to
                         Priest Johannes?

               Baudolino takes the fake letter out from the red tube and
               hands it to the Deacon. The atrium glitz and Deacon's shining
               veil gradually RESTORE while the Deacon reads it. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Do not doubt the greatness of your
                         father.
                         Your father lives on to  fulfill
                         the vision of religious harmony
                         beyond the Realm.

               Hesitating, the Deacon returns the letter without comment.

                                   DEACON
                             (whispering, sad)
                         The Realm....You traveled the world
                         to find it. A man of war...
                         experienced love and passion....But
                         me? A warrior?....A lover!?
                             (loudly, distressed)
                         Who do you think could love me?

               He suddenly throws the veil off his face and hands -- all
               eaten by horrific leprosy.

                                   DEACON
                             (angry)
                         God?

               Baudolino is shocked by the Deacon's grief and revelations.

               BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION: SHOCKING VISION AND HELL 

               The tempest wind blows Hathor's hair. Her devilish laughter
               confounds with the sound of thunders.

                                   HATHOR
                         Your God needs redemption!

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Blasphemy! We need redemption
                         because we failed to believe --

                                   HATHOR
                         -- In imagined heavenly places? You
                         failed the reality!

               Thunders alight the rugged landscape and the faraway
               mountains with hellish smoke and fires behind them.

EXT. HOPES HILL/FERN VALLEY/STRAIGHT/PNADPETZIM - DAY

On the HOPES HILL, sword tied to his back, Baudolino looks at
the hellish fires and smoke beyond the faraway mountains gradually DIMINISHING to the reality of the small fires in the Magogs' camp. He yanks the mule down in the Fern Valley. In the FERN VALLEY, the backs of the running cyclops cut through the tall fern and grass. THE POET (yelling) Lower, lower! They should not see you! The Cyclops see Baudolino and, instead of bending more, stand up and stretch -- muck on their hands and faces. CYCLOP Uhuu! Pain back. Ferns small, we tall. THE POET Down, down! Sending the donkey now! He signals to someone, and the Cyclops go down annoyed. As the DONKEYS run by, the Cyclops struggle to topple them. The skirmish moves away with shouting and braying. Farther away, Pygmies blow darts from fistulas into Cockatrices running erratically with darts flopping. PYGMY I great fighter! Further away, Nubians chase the running cockatrices with swords and spears. Closer to the village, Ardzrouni places fake horse heads, with horns and bat wings, onto the Blemmyaes' shoulders. ARDZROUNI Tighten the straps! Look! He demonstrates. On the side, other Blemmyaes assemble more heads from a pile of straws, feathers, and willow branches. ARDZROUNI (encouraging Blemmyaes) They'll pop up from the grass, horses will buck, Magogs will waste the arrows on the fake heads, courageous Blemmyaes stab the horses, pull down the Magogs! At the Pnadpetzim STRAIT, a big shadow crosses Baudolino's face. He ducks at the sight of a Panotian flying toward him. Too late. Ears fully extended and flapping, the Panotian crashes on him. In PNADPETZIM, he walks by the open door of a hut and stops. Inside, in a makeshift laboratory, Kyot feeds mushrooms into a huge grinder -- liquid drips from it into a small container. A Panotian Woman stacks rolls of cloth on shelves. FOUR FAT and SLIM COCKATRICES with whiskers, beaks, tails of various sizes and colors roam around.
               Bent over a table loaded with big and small jars, Rabbi
               decants liquid and hands a jar over to Kyot.

                                   RABBI
                         Try this one.

               Kyot gets a dart and dips it in the jar.

               The biggest fat cockatrice sticks its head above the table
               and looks blinking at Kyot.

               Kyot holds the cockatrice's stare and slowly bends under the
               table.

               The cockatrice jolts, widely opens both eyes, lids and
               whiskers flutter, and eyes close. The bird disappears under
               the table with a THUD, rising a cloud of dust.

               The other three cockatrices bend their necks to look down at
               the -- still bird.

                                   RABBI
                         This one worked! It'll kill Magogs'
                         horses!

               The cockatrices look reproachful at Rabbi. Suddenly, the
               still bird wakes up and starts flying erratically, bouncing
               on walls.

               Rabbi covers his head, retreats in a corner, Kyot stays safe
               under the table.

               The bird ends up on the table, goose-step marching and
               knocking off the jars.

               Baudolino laughs his head off.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         That's what I call a good kill!

               By the Deacon Tower, the Eunuchs stack boxes and bags.

                                   PRAXEAS
                             (waving at Baudolino)
                         Getting ready for the fight!
  
               EXT. HOPES HILL - OBSERVATION POST - DAY

               The Magogs' plumes of smoke, fires, and tents are closer to
               the Fern Valley. Baudolino, Rabbi, Praxeas and Nubeesmak
               oversee the intense military drills. Two Skiapods lie on
               ground, large feet up to shade their heads from the sun.

               Messalians practice signaling with white and black smoke from
               the reconstructed hovels.

               Closer, set along the valley in a sequence of defensive
               lines, Cyclops, Blemmyaes, Skiapods and Nubians practice
               deployment and fighting.

               Hopping up the hill, Skiapod Gavagai joins the commanding
               group. He doesn't like the leg-up Skiapods lying on the
               ground.

                                   SKIAPOD GAVAGAI
                         Get up, practiz running!

               The Skiapods don't move.

                                   SKIAPOD
                         Sun givz power, foot givz shade.
                         Hot feet, cool head.

               EXT. PNADPETZIM STRAIT - NIGHT

               The commanding group returns from Hope Hill through the
               straight. Two Panotian Females and Kyot yell, trying to
               control a herd of bucks with torches on their long horns.

                                   THE POET
                             (yelling at Kyot)
                         What's that!?

                                   KYOT
                             (proudish)
                         Night defense! The torches will
                         look like lots of defenders.

                                   THE POET
                         No way, they'll set the field
                         afire!

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Well done Kyot! They'll be our last
                         line of defense, night or day.

               Excited, running down from Hopes Hill, a Nubian catches up
               with the group.

                                   NUBIAN
                         Zey here, attack now! 

EXT. OBSERVATION POST - DAWN

The first sunrays shine behind the faraway mountains. No plumes of smoke from the Magogs' camp. Sleepy on duty watch, hands on a tall boulder to steady himself, The Poet squints toward the camp. Nubeesmack sleeps. Insects buzz around his flask with burq. Ardzrouni and Baudolino sleep on ground. Baudolino's -- hand reaches Ardzrouni's. BAUDOLINO DREAM: SHARING LOVING FEELINGS At the Waterfall Lake, birds and butterflies fly by the blossoming ivy and small waterfall streaks. Baudolino's squeezes Hathor's hand. His parted hair looks like small satyr horns. Looking into each other's eyes, they lower their heads and, fronts touching, share their thoughts. BAUDOLINO (V.O.) ... so beautiful... so terrible things you said... but... HATHOR (V.O.) ... a man of war... still... I shall teach you pleasures and beauty... Hathor gently pulls him to the waterfall. She caresses the ivy flowers and their buds. A colibri picks nectar from a flower. Hathor touches the flower's buds and dances along with the flying butterflies. HATHOR (V.O.) The beauty of fertility... (touching a withered flower) ... born from death.... harmony and chaos... nature in permanent transformation....We have to connect with the origins of the earthly nature... rivers and forests, mountains and birds. Look up to the Sun and Moon, the stars... and enjoy the Knowledge born from the Unknown. At night, they walk floating over the grass into the forest. Her long, white hair sways in the night's breeze reflecting the moonlight. The donkey and unicorn follow them. Crickets' and birds' chirps fill the night with harmonious sounds. They arrive at a clearing. The moon projects the shadows of the trees on grass. The trees' trunks are covered by glazing moss, and fireflies twinkle above colorful, phosphorescent mushrooms. The hairy donkey playfully muzzles and pokes the unicorn with its tongue. Baudolino looks at them and scratches his head. Hathor follows his gaze, smiles, and steps closer to touch his front with hers. BAUDOLINO So, how about the origin of our feelings, my dear teacher? HATHOR It's when you follow your soul and lose your mind. The moon rays highlight the contour of her small breasts through the thin fabric of her blouse. BAUDOLINO It's how I feel right now. She looks again at the -- donkey and unicorn muzzling -- then gently kisses his lips. Baudolino shudders. She pulls up his shirt. Baudolino pulls up her blouse over her small breasts. Then, he unties her skirt, which drops. He steps back to look at her breasts, then midriff, then down at her -- short, reddish fur legs ending in delicate hoofs. He looks into her eyes, she frowns, concerned. He embraces her lovingly, squeezing her hand. BACK TO SCENE Ardzrouni pulls his hand from Baudolino's squeeze, wakes and stands up. The Poet sleeps standing, embracing a bolder. Ardzrouni nudges him and glances over the Magogs' camp. It seems quiet, no smoke signals from the rebuilt hovels. Baudolino, still under the fumes of his dream, joins Ardzrouni and waves a greeting at Skiapod Gavagai. The Poet lies down next to Nubeesmak and closes his eyes. But he opens them, alerted by the ground tremor. He presses his ear to the ground. THE POET (whispering... yelling) They're coming... they're coming! Ardzrouni feels the ground tremor and squints over the valley. The vegetation comes alive disturbed by the wave of Magogs' horses cutting through. The wave passes the hovels, but no smoke signals. ARDZROUNI No signals!! SKIAPOD GAVAGAI Brave Skiapods! Alert! Check the Messalians! The Skiapods hop up and run into the valley. EXT. FERN VALLEY - MESSALIANS HOVELS - SAME TIME Sleepy, long necks sticking above the hovels, the Messalians look down at the galloping Magogs. Arrows fly by their long necks. They fumble to light up the torches. The MAGOGS, fur hats and helmets with horns, ride in the Fern Valley armed with spears and longbows.
               EXT. FIRST DEFENSE LINE - CYCLOPS AND SKIAPODS - LATER

               Knelt under the ferns, the Cyclops see the Skiapods' feet
               raised above the tall grass, against the sun. They feel the
               trepidation, look at the hovels, no smoke.

               Two of them hurriedly crawl toward the Skiapods' lineup.

                                   CYCLOP
                             (whispering forcefully)
                         You meat-mouth pagans, get up!

                                   SKIAPOD
                             (offended)
                         You call us pagans, you cheese
                         mouth heretics?

                                   CYCLOP
                             (angry, offended)
                         Heretics?!

               The Cyclops stand up and hit the Skiapods' legs with the
               bats. Some Skiapods fight back the Cyclops, hop up and hammer
               them in the chest with their big foot. A Skiapod Messenger
               arrives and looks startled at the skirmish.

                                   SKIAPOD MESSENGER
                             (yelling)
                         Magogs attacks!

               The Cyclops and Skiapods brawl stops as the Magogs show up.

               The Cyclops grab the Skiapods by their legs and, using them
               as bats, hit the Magogs off their horses. Other Skiapods
               strap on their big shields -- ferocious figures painted on
               them -- and hop vigorously, scaring the Magog's horses.

               EXT. OBSERVATION POST - SAME TIME

               The Poet scrutinizes the faraway brawl in the fern valley.
               Wind starts.

                                   THE POET
                             (victorious)
                         We stopped the Magogs!

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         Not sure, some fall but not many.

               The Skiapod Messenger arrives from the first line of defense.

                                   SKIAPOD MESSENGER
                             (to Gavagai))
                         Cheese-mouthers Cyclops kill the
                         good-loyal Skiapods!

                                   THE POET
                             (wailing at Gavagai)
                         Killing? -- Not different! Not
                         different, arghhh!

               SECOND DEFENSE LINE - BLEMMYAES AND PYGMIES - LATER

               The Magogs regroup and charge through the ferns. The
               Blemmyaes' fake heads pop up.

               Magogs' horses rear, but Magogs skillfully keep shooting
               arrows. The fake heads fall off, revealing the headless
               Blemmyaes. The Magogs pause, startled.

               The strong volley of pygmies' blowpipes darts from the ferns
               thicket hit the Magogs' horses.
               The horses wobble for a moment -- blink sleepily -- then
               suddenly jump up high, throw the Magogs off the saddle, and
               run away. The Blemmyaes attack the Magogs with swords.

               THIRD DEFENSE LINE - FLYING PANOTIANS - LATER

               The Magogs gallop toward the straight bordering the city.
               From the strait heights, the Panotians kamikaze glide down,
               land on Magogs' heads, and fall together to the ground. 

               A smaller number of Magogs advance cautiously through the
               strait, archery at the ready. 

               EXT. OBSERVATION POST - SAME TIME

               The wind picks up. Baudolino sees that the small group of
               Magogs is joined by many more from the previous defensive
               line fights. 

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         They are in large numbers, we
                         cannot stop them. Pnadpetzim will
                         fall.

                                   THE POET
                         No! Look!

               A large number of Pnadpetzim fighters regroup from the
               previous lines of defense. 

                                   THE POET
                             (to Skiapod Gavagai)
                         Run to Kyot, get him to deploy the
                         goats.

               FOURTH DEFENSE LINE - NUBIANS - LATER

               The brave Nubians just throw themselves at the horses' feet.
               The horses rear.

                                   NUBIANS
                             (various voices)
                         Kill for glory...Kill for noble
                         sacrifice...Me, me first!

               The Magogs sack them and advance into the straight.

               FIFTH DEFENCE LINE - KYOT GOATS - LATER

               Torches shake on the running goats' horns. The herd runs out
               of the dry brush of the strait.

               Two Panotian Females herd them over a larger front. The brush
               gets afire, and the wind blows the smoke toward the Magogs.

               EXT. OBSERVATION POST - SAME TIME

               Ardzrouni points at the valley. The Magogs get covered by the
               thick smoke. The Pnadpetzim fighters from the earlier defense
               lines attack them from behind.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                             (exited))
                         Attack! Attack!

               Kyot runs up to the post. Ardzrouni and The Poet exult.

                                   KYOT
                             (laughing)
                         He, he! I told you, my idea works!

               Baudolino keeps scrutinizing the battlefield.

               Pnadpetzim fighters run into the smoke. The Magogs get out
               laterally and, riding in a circle, shoot arrows into the
               smoke.

               The Poet draws Baudolino's attention to the lower trail from
               the village. Praxeas and a group of Eunuchs briskly ride on
               hairy DONKEY and DWARF ELEPHANTS loaded with boxes and bags.

                                   PRAXEAS
                         The Deacon had died. We're leaving.

                                   THE POET
                             (dumb)
                         The map! Give us the map.

               Ironically smiling, Praxeas keeps the pace without answering.

               Baudolino and Ardzrouni exchange looks -- they know by now
               the meaning of that smile.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                             (to The Poet)
                         Let's grab the stones before it's
                         too late.

               In the valley, the fire just smolders, and the smoke
               dissipates. The Magogs keep circling and shooting arrows at
               the Pnadpetzim fighters.

               Baudolino stares for a while at the real, desolate village
               and degraded state of Deacon's Tower. Then, one last look
               toward the tunnel and a new one in the opposite direction of
               the distant Brahmaputra.

                                   RABBI
                             (to Baudolino)
                         The map doesn't matter to me. My
                         brothers made it... and so will I.

               Baudolino embraces Rabbi, the only true believer.

               EXT. BRAHMAPUTRA RIVER - DAY
               SUPER: "FEBRUARY 1201. BRAHMAPUTRA RIVER"

               Baudolino, Ardzrouni and The Poet yell and wave at a FISHING
               BOAT floating on a distant stream. But the strong wind blows
               toward them, and the fishermen couldn't hear.

                                   THE POET
                             (pointing into the wind)
                         That way, damn it!

               - LATER

               In the evening, the pilgrims swim forcefully toward a FISHING
               RAFT floating on a closer stream. The FISHERMEN  steers the
               raft.            
               EXT. ANDAMAN SEA - CHINESE JUNK BOAT - DAY
               SUPER: "JULY 1201. ANDAMAN SEA"

               The CHINESE JUNK BOAT sails and banners hang still.               
              Two CHINESE MERCHANTS fan the sweat off from under their
               hats. The Poet moves from the sun to the shade of the sails.

                                   THE POET
                         Why did we have to sail South when
                         home is somewhere in the North?

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (opening one eye)
                         Captain said best trade route and
                         monsoon safe.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         And our precious stones to his
                         coffers.

               EXT. INDIAN OCEAN - ARABIAN COG SHIP - DAY
               SUPER: "DECEMBER 1201. INDIAN OCEAN BY SRI LANKA"

               The ARABIAN COG SHIP yaws and pitches.               
               The tempest waves flood the stern and drench the ARAB
               CAPTAIN. He grips the rudder and yells orders to the crew.
               Baudolino and Ardzrouni crawl toward the quarterdeck ladder.

               EXT. ARABIAN SEA - GREEK SHIP - DAY
               SUPER: "AUGUST 1202. ARABIAN SEA BY BARBARIKON"
               Burly GREEK CAPTAIN (50) at the tiller. On the deck of the
               GREEK TRADING SHIP, Ardzrouni and The Poet bargain with a
               MUSLIM and a VENETIAN traders. Neither seems impressed by
               their -- gem-studded meteorite stones.

               Baudolino turns his head away, annoyed, and contemplates the
               flying fish motif on a flapping banner.

               BAUDOLINO DREAM: THE FLYING FISH

               The motif MORPHS into a flying fish getting bigger as it
               circles the ship closer and closer.

               Baudolino grabs one of the fish's wings and jumps on his
               back.             
               The fish flies days and nights over the desert dunes. Under
               the day's scorching sun, its scales start falling off, and
               the fish dives toward the ground.

               BACK TO SCENE

               He wakes up, yelling. The merchants look at him, startled.

                                   GREEK CAPTAIN
                         Barbarikon on starboard! Lower the
                         headsail!

               The ship enters the harbor. Inland dwellings are clustered
               around the city's stone walls and spread along the river
               bank.

               EXT. BARBARIKON MARKET - DAY

               Sand storm. Baudolino, Ardzrouni, and The Poet elbow their
               way through the market CROWD, stopping at times at stands,
               some where WHITE and BLACK WOMEN and MEN SLAVES are bargained
               for.

               One MERCHANT grabs Baudolino's sleeve, showing off -- an old
               coin.

                                   BARBARICON MERCHANT
                         Alexandros Macedon! Punjab victory,
                         Indus fleet victory!

                                   THE POET
                             (quizzical, to Baudolino)
                         You said that Alexander the Great
                         got to the Ganges!

               The Merchant keeps pulling on Baudolino's sleeve.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (defensive)
                         Boron said that Ptolemy wrote that.

                                   THE POET
                         ... Inflamed minds! -- May Boron's
                         soul rest in peace.

               He grabs the Merchant's coin and hands him a -- small gem
               studded meteorite. Blinded by the blowing sand, the Merchant
               tries to figure out what it is.

               INT. BARBARIKON - HOUSE - LATER

               The pilgrims dust themselves off. Ardzrouni waves them over
               to look at a map -- finger points at Barbarikon.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         By land, it's --

                                   THE POET
                         -- No more land! Sailing is better.

                                   ARDZROUNI
                         Then we sail on the Red Sea, trek
                         on land to Cairo, then home on the
                         Mediterranean Sea.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                             (sad)
                         Home... I forgot what it means....
                         I need to see Jerusalem, in
                         Frederick's memory, then... maybe
                         Constantinople?

                                   THE POET
                         Constantinople it is! Richer than
                         any city in Europe.

               EXT. NILE VALLEY - AFTERNOON

               The CAMEL caravan joined by the pilgrims advances through the
               flooded Nile Valley. The sun setting between the pyramids is
               reflected on the surface of a still water area.

               Afar, in the soft haze of the sunset, the walls of Cairo
               citadel with its tall mosque turrets. The colors of the sky
               blend in hues from blue to red, the sparse, gray clouds'
               fringes highlighted in orange and white. PEOPLE and CAMEL
               caravans come from and go to the city.
               EXT. CAIRO MARKET - DAY
               SUPER: "SEPTEMBER 1203. CAIRO MARKET"

               In a large courtyard, fabrics, copper pottery, and various
               artifacts hang inside the richly decorated stalls and tents.
               PEOPLE and MERCHANTS bargain.

               Under a tent, sitting on a rug, Ardzrouni and The Poet trade 
               their meteorite stones for jewelry and coins with TWO ARAB
               TRADERS, both old, with long beards. Baudolino glances over
               at a papyrus with Egyptian hieroglyphs.

               TWO YOUNG WOMEN, faces covered by niqabs, replenish cups with
               tea. The Poet eyes them intently -- shy reactions from them.

                                   BAUDOLINO
                         Then, how safe is travel to
                         Jerusalem?

                                   ARAB TRADER
                         It is a time of peace, good times
                         for trade -- after years of bad
                         luck... a big earthquake, no
                         floods! No water - not good... now,
                         all good, very good!

               A VEILED WOMAN stops to look at the -- jewelry and stones on
               the rug -- then at the Poet, who catches on. The woman walks
               away, disappearing in the crowd.

               The bargain continues. Baudolino lies down on the carpet,
               uninterested. He looks up at the oriental decoration on the
               tent cover -- two griffins drinking from a flaming cup.

               The Veiled Woman comes by again, giving a lingering stare to
               The Poet. He discreetly nods, she leaves, he stands up and
               follows her through the crowd.

               Baudolino dozes off while looking at -- a griffin.

               BAUDOLINO DREAM: JERUSALEM AND ARCHANGEL HATHOR

               The griffin flies off the tent fabric, circles the courtyard,
               and lands by Baudolino. He gets on its back.

               They fly over the Nile, desert land, the shore of the
               Mediterranean Sea, then inland. Baudolino rejoices at the
               sight of a fortress with tall towers and minarets.
                                BAUDOLINO
                         Down! Down to Jerusalem!

               As the griffin descends, the big, golden statue of the
               defending Angel of the City MORPHS into an armored Archangel
               holding a giant sword. Her face resembles Hathor's. She flies
               up, graciously flapping enormous wings.

                                   ARCHANGEL HATHOR
                         Why believing in your imagined
                         heavenly places? Don't ignore the
                         reality on Earth!
                             (pointing with the sword)
                         Go to Constantinople, to learn!

               The griffin flies over Constantinople. Plumes of smoke rise
               from the city aflame. Fierce fighting under its walls and
               between the ships on the sea. Baudolino looks down,
               horrified.
               INT. CONSTANTINOPLE ROOM - DAY
               SUPER: "APRIL 1204. CONSTANTINOPLE"

               Baudolino writes at a desk in front of an open window. On the
               desk, the weathered red sealed tube and spread out pages from
               the bundle of parchments. He writes in the leather binding
               book.

               Active writing: "...April 1204..."

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         Jerusalem, a land of religious
                         tolerance, was spared by luck on
                         the Third Crusade...

               He looks out at the burned-down houses, plumes of smoke, the
               broken tower of a minaret, and the dome of the Saint Sophia
               church, gray under the heavy clouds.

               He resumes writing.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         ... Constantinople was sacked on
                         the Fourth by religious
                         intolerance... and greed in trade
                         interests.

               He stops writing and, thinking, looks up.

                                   BAUDOLINO (V.O.)
                         I believed in heavenly places,
                         wanted them to be real....The
                         Archangel wanted me to learn the
                         reality? But what do I ultimately
                         want... know, or believe?

               Through the window, he contemplates the destruction of the
               city and the plumes of smoke reaching the dark clouds. A
               slight golden light illuminates his face.

               BAUDOLINO IMAGINATION: HATHOR AND THE TODDLER

               Sunrays gradually break through the clouds, smoke plumes
               retreat, the burned-down houses restore to white, flowers
               blossom on them, the broken minaret tower rises toward the
               clear sky, and the dome of Saint Sophia turns to shining
               gold.

               On the road, a WOMAN in a white dress blown by the wind, and
               a toddler walk toward his house.

               They are Hathor and her FOUR-YEAR-OLD SON who jumps around
               on the cobblestones -- barefoot --.

               BACK TO SCENE

               He resumes writing.

               Active writing: "...Esse est fides!" (Subtitled: "To be is to
               believe.")

                                   END
                         Reelwindows©, All Rights Reserved

               Copyright 2016 ithinkiam. All Rights Reserved.

Attachments