Aries Fire (12 page)

His known sympathies were with the Jews and pagan factions, but he was a fair Governor to all of Alexandria. For the most part, Orestes remained impartial in political matters concerning unrest between Christian and Jewish citizens, but the growing arrogance of the Christian bishops and priests challenged his tolerance for the Christians as a group.

“Seira,” he replied and reached out to hold her.

“What are you doing here?” Seira asked.

She let her body relax in his arms. This was her mother’s dear friend.  Seira didn’t know if the stories she heard about Orestes secret affair with her mother were true or not. She wanted to believe them now, if only to feel a tie with him.

“Come inside. We’re safe here. Our time is short however, and we must make haste,” he said as he led her to a private bath chamber. His voice resonated deeply and she felt safe.

Seira looked back over her shoulder at the empty bathhouse. It was dimly lit with large, misshapen candles. Molded, dried wax sculpted the floor near the baths. Kiki stood in the shadows, and for a moment, Seira thought she saw light surrounding Kiki, but couldn’t determine the source, and quickly dismissed it.

“Seira, are you,” Orestes paused to find the appropriate words. “Are you well?”

She needed to scream, I feel everything, but instead, she simply answered, “Yes,” and sat down on a slab marble bench. It felt so cool against her skin that she was suddenly aware of her fatigue.

“Orestes, I’m so tired. I don’t understand…”

She was somehow amazed at how emotions kept rebuilding themselves after only one experience.

“Bishop Cyril,” he said, but paused when Seira jerked her head upward and sat as stiff as the marble beneath her. Her taut expression barely hid her hatred.

Orestes continued, “Bishop Cyril has been called away to Rome. His absence allowed me to leave Alexandria unnoticed. Seira I have no proof, but I believe…” Seira cut his words short.

“He MURDERED my mother,” she said.

He grabbed her hands. “Seira, we need to be clear headed and calm if we are to keep you hidden safely.”

His words held sway over her emotions. Seira softened her posture and she looked at Orestes with longing. She wanted her life back the way it was but knew that was no longer possible.

Orestes’ hatred for Cyril nearly matched Seira’s. More and more, Orestes and Cyril found themselves in opposing political positions, especially now that violence between the Jews and the Christians escalated.

Orestes decided not to recount to Seira the attempt on his own life by one of Cyril’s followers. Irreparable harm would come to Seira and her family, unless damaging claims founded upon the truth were supplied to allay suspicions. Until then, Orestes remained the dutiful and fair-practicing politician.

“What do I do? Where do I go?”

Seira thought this man was the only one who she might be able to trust completely.

Alexander? Her feelings echoed.

“My Dear. You’re already here where it is safest for you. I, too, believe the Bishop gave the order to have your mother murdered.”

His hand rose slightly to stop Seira from further interruption. Fingers lowered gently onto her shoulder.

“I cannot stay long in this place. I must return to Alexandria. The bishops are mad with power. The Jews are thrown from their homes. All of the non-Christians are… Seira, it is vital that you stay quietly anonymous until I am able to discover the plot against your family,” said Orestes.

The phrase, your family, gave Seira new meaning. It wasn’t just her mother who had been in danger.  That’s what her grandfather tried to tell her, too.

“My grandfather told me that they would be looking for me, but I thought that was his grief and overworked logic speaking,” she said to Orestes.

“Your grandfather has fallen ill, Seira. He is confined to his house. All that is necessary is being done to heal him, but I fear he will succumb,” Orestes sighed.

“But why? What ails him?”  Her mind scattered in all directions. “What has become of my mother’s husband, Isidorus? Why did they kill my mother?” she pleaded.

Seira stood as if she had somewhere to go.

“Why does Cyril wish me dead?” Fingers knotted tightly together.

“Seira, come and sit by me. Listen closely,” he said.

In a moment of pure clarity, Seira thought about her father’s identity. She was reluctant to ask, but there was no other way to discover the truth.

“Are you my father?” she blurted.

“No,” was all he said, and she believed him.

They sat in silence for a few moments. From the corridor, Kiki tapped lightly on their chamber door. It opened slightly. He stood and pulled Seira up from the marble slab bench.

“Much of what I say now might seem a mystery to you. Please trust that I will gather all of the information I can to discover the entire truth and to bring justice to your plight.  I cannot protect you in Alexandria, but I can protect your grandfather.  I must discover the truth. This is why I must return.  As for Isidorus, we can only wonder.  He is gone.  Without your grandfather to support him, he has most likely withdrawn to less visible quarters.”

Seira remained silent and listened to Orestes.  Perhaps he knew if Isidorus was involved with Hypatia’s murder somehow.

That letter Marina showed me, she thought.

“Kiki was once a teacher to your mother,” Orestes said.

Seira showed surprise upon hearing that. 

“You will stay and obey her instructions.  You are here now to be educated.  Kiki has vowed to protect you.”

Orestes responded to Seira’s expression with neutrality.

“Show her the respect that is due a woman of her stature.  She is your guardian.  It is your Grandfather’s wish,” he hesitated, then continued, “And your mother would have it so.”

Seira frowned slightly in disbelief.  Her anger shot up.

‘A woman of her stature?’ she thought. She’s got the body of an old wrinkled corpse and the face of a frog.

“If it weren’t for Kiki we would have lost you in that crowd, you know,” he said, walking toward the door.

Seira didn’t know whether to feel thankful or resentful. Candlelight flickered in the antechamber.

“Orestes!” Seira suddenly said. “How did Kiki know I’d come to Ashkelon?”

When Orestes turned to speak, Seira felt she’d never see him again. He smiled at her.

Grandfather, Alexander, and now Orestes, she thought.

“Your Grandfather arranged your journey, did he not?”

It was more of a statement than a question.  Seira was dumbfounded. “I’m not going to Athens, am I? He never intended for me to go to Athens, did he?”

He put his hands in hers. “You are a wise woman in the making and your wisdom will help you to see the truth. I’ll find proof of Cryil’s involvement, but understand this. We cannot act rashly.” 

He stared at her with intensity.  Seira nodded, although she didn’t fully understand the consequences of acting impetuously.

“You are, of course, your mother’s daughter,” he added reassuringly.

And I am my father’s daughter, too, she thought.  

“Orestes,” Seira thought of something innocuous to say to delay him.

“I cannot linger. I must return to Alexandria,” he reminded her.

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

Orestes hugged her quickly then disappeared into the bathhouse.

Oh, Grandfather I’m so sorry.

She watched Orestes’ shadow dance across the dimness of the antechamber.  A light stirred within.  An odious situation collapsed into neutrality. Seira felt a strange surge of promise once again.

The men in my life rally to support me, she mused.

At least for Seira, one mystery had been solved.

She sighed aloud, “If Orestes is not my father then by the stars who is?”

Aboard the Ishtar a bewildered Lem listened to the captain’s runner gush his breathless words, ‘We’ve lost her.’

Alexander held Japhet’s fearful stare only for a moment. He remained as calm as a seasoned captain must.

“Japhet tell me what happened.”

“Yes Nasi,” Japhet’s eyes glanced.

The entire crew watched him, waiting for him to speak.  He was most self-conscious under Lem’s grave stares.

Japhet was an awkward young man of twenty with unusually large black eyes that made him look eternally exhausted and bewildered. His father, a well-respected tradesman, was a friend to Alexander. Japhet was taught to respect and serve his brethren. He hoped he had not brought failure to Alexander. He looked at Alexander’s expectant expression.

“I carried the barrel toward the marketplace with the Roman guard who escorted me. He wouldn’t stop talking. I had to keep his interest while we set down the barrel. The vendors started to open their barrels and I couldn’t risk the guard seeing the Lady, Nasi,” Japhet spoke faster as he recounted. “I walked quickly away from the marketplace to keep the guard’s attention on me and I turned and,”

“Slow down, Japhet,” Alexander interrupted.

“Yes Nasi, Sir. I… I led the guard back toward the port and I turned to see the Lady in the middle of a crowd. I think she had a tumble with the locals and,” Japhet ran out of words.

Alexander smiled for an instant envisioning Seira in a brawl.  He looked at Japhet once again.

“But you saw her? She was in plain site?  In the marketplace? And the guard took no notice?”

“Yes, Nasi. Plain sight. I held the guard’s ears with a story about the whore, Tia, and her three-legged dog,” Japhet said.

Alexander patted his runner’s shoulder.

“Well done, Japhet. Oh, and,” Alexander leaned in, “I’d like to hear that story sometime,” he said quietly.

“Yes Nasi, thank you, Sir.”

Alexander watched Japhet remove himself to carry on with his duties. He calculated his thoughts before speaking again. 

“Men,” he said, “we prepare to set sail for Alexandria,” and turned to walk past Lem.

“What?” Lem lunged forward grabbing Alexander’s arm. “What do you mean, set sail? You told me we stayed the night in port upon Theon’s instructions.”

“Yes, Lem. It seems that plans have changed. Come with me,” Alexander said.

Alexander led Lem to the cargo hold where Seira’s possessions lay strewn about. He made a silent note to have her things properly stowed.

“Lem. Theon instructed us to deliver Seira into the hands of a woman, a great teacher.”

Lem nodded with a frown. Alexander saw that Lem concentrated hard to understand every word. He spoke to Lem slowly, as if he told a bedtime story.

“Our plans were to remove Seira from the ship in disguise later this afternoon and rendezvous with our contact to deliver her safely.  Alas, the Roman guards escorted our cargo and our man off of the ship.  We had to hope that our contact would receive our goods,” Alexander waited for Lem to grasp his metaphors.

Lem remained motionless.

“Go on,” he urged, suddenly feeling impatient.

“Go on? There’s nothing more to tell, my friend. Our Mistress Seira was in plain sight in the marketplace and the Roman garrison is none the wiser. What more is there? Our task is complete.”

“But, wait. Where is she? Is the Mistress safe?” Lem looked worried.

“Come now, Master Lem,” Alexander placed a tight grip on Lem’s shoulder and shook it firmly to reassure him.

“Our contact has her by now, I’m sure of it.”

“Hazaad! How can you be sure?” asked Lem.

Alexander masked his doubt with a look of confidence.  His quick wits searched for a way to keep Lem satisfied.

“Lem,” he began, not knowing what to say next.

Mahmoud called down into the cargo hold.

“Koboudan, our passenger is aboard.”

Lem threw his hands to his head.

“I will surely lose my wits! What passenger? What goes on here? Trickery?” Lem bellowed.

“No Lem, I assure you. Come.”

Alexander moved with speed and agility as he bound up the steps. Lem lumbered after him. The setting sun splintered his eyes.

“By the stars!” Lem shouted. 

Orestes posed as if about to give a lengthy speech, right hand on the gunwale, left hand resting comfortably on his lower back, palm upward.

“It appears as if our business here is done,” Orestes said.

Lem stood, confused. He looked at the Governor of Alexandria. Alexander inhaled quietly, momentarily reassured, averted his gaze to the city and exhaled a sigh of relief. For a brief moment, sorrow passed over his expression.

Seira stood, for what felt like a lifetime, in the doorway to the bathhouse. Orestes was gone. Alexander was a hopeful promise of things to come with a man.

“I won’t spend my days alone,” she murmured aloud, as if saying it aloud could make it come true instantly. Kiki gave her the time she needed to adjust.  The thought of leaving her newly orphaned life and spending it with an old woman, revered as a wise-one, was too much to comprehend. Seira had a teacher now, a mentor, with whom she’d learn the ways of…of what?

Seira attempted to recall the feeling of her mother’s spirit to be her truest companion. She couldn’t summon the strength to imagine her mother’s presence. Seira’s shoulders dropped slightly. Kiki approached to let her know it was time to go.

Seira delayed.  Kiki gently put her hand on Seira’s back. The old woman led her into another chamber.

“Your new life begins,” Kiki said.

Seira came out of her momentary trance and entered the room.

“With a bath?” she asked with uncertainty.

Chapter Five

But can you trust in him?

Or, Neptune conjunct Mars in the 11th

T
HE SOUND OF
heels scuffed and echoed in the long, stone corridor toward a tall dark figure who stood silent in the stone archway, his head tilted back. He contemplated the serene expressions of the detailed, multicolored flecked frescoes of St. Clemente that adorned the high plastered walls of the basilica.

How many stabs would it take to kill a man who deserved to die? He wondered. And which man would God forgive first?

“His Grace will receive you now, your Grace,” the young man said, with head bowed and eyes lowered in reverence.