Aries Fire (30 page)

“Paulinus,” Seira said and nodded her head in greeting.

Seira looked closely at the mark on his sleeve. Two triangular shapes held together with a looped ribbon.  Seira, unaware of her stare, touched the shapes.  Paulinus and Seira looked at each other intently as Seira sensed his entire presence.

“You are a Jew,” she said.

Eudocia neared.

“Yes, my Dear,” Eudocia said, watching Seira.

“I do not wish to insult you,” Seira said.

“I am not insulted, Mistress Seira.  I am blessed to be born Jewish.”

Seira caught hold of her behavior.  Isaac and Kiki flooded her thoughts.

“As you must be,” Seira said directly as she looked at Eudocia.

“What do you see, Seira?” Eudocia asked candidly.

Seira walked to the table and smoothed out her mother’s Astronomical Canon. She did not know how to share the memories rapidly emerging where they once lay withering in a closed mind and wounded heart.

“I have seen this style of dress, Eudocia,” Seira said and nodded toward Paulinus’ garment.  “And with it the continuation of a persecution that lingers for centuries.  I am unable to see if Cyril is truly the man who murdered my mother.  I see things and yet I am blind,” Seira said and looked at her mother’s words.

A warm wind blew in through the open windows and caressed Seira’s body.  Awareness expanded within her. Lost in anger, in hatred, in the constant thought of revenge for more than ten years clouded a once sharp mind.   Despair kept her holding fast to a corrupt way of life that set aside her life, one stride in advance of fear.  Life with the Huns weakened her spirit, yet kept her body and her impulse alive, fighting fear and doubt.  Although within every new experience a road of hope emerged. 

She thought of Attila and how he helped her pave that road in a dark world. And how it was almost necessary to travel that road of light and darkness simultaneously in order to fully acknowledge and accept the truth, her truth.

Hypatia’s wisdom returned to Seira as a shield in a war on the advancement of humanity.  She looked at Eudocia with newfound inspiration.

“Eudocia, may I borrow my mother’s books to read?”

“My Dear.  You are the rightful heir to these works of wisdom.  They belong to you. They are yours to keep,” she said.

Seira felt a clarity blossom in her heart like a desert flower.  She knew the course of her life must change.  A cloud of emotion, enveloping Seira, lifted and blew away with the warm breeze. Seira’s path appeared, as if it had been there all the while. In releasing much of a sorrowful past, Seira made the space to fill her present with the future. 

“Light and dark exist together and are as absolute as the cosmos from which they hail,” she said.

Seira exuded an aura of conscious power.  Eudocia and Paulinus both acknowledged it, each other, then turned to Seira.

“Between worlds, you said?  Describe those worlds to me now,” Eudocia said like a military strategist.

Chapter Thirteen

Freedom fighters make the dream real and reality a nightmare

Or…Uranus conjunct Mars in the 11th house

P
ALE YELLOW LIGHT
flickered through the window of Deacon Leo’s rooms.  The light dappled across the floor of the courtyard adjoining Deacon Leo and Bishop Cyril accommodations.  A dark shadow approached and paced in the courtyard.  Cyril walked to the balcony, eyes easily adjusted to dimness.  The sea shimmered in moonlight.  He stared at the moonlit water and sighed aloud. Impatience and agitation ebbed with the tide.  Salty spray hung in the air.  A faint flapping sound startled Cyril.  He turned abruptly and saw a silhouette in the arched shadows.

Cyril reached for his dagger, kept neatly hidden in his vestment.

“Show yourself or you’ll not live to breathe.”

Aetius moved calmly from the shadows of the pillars that framed the archway.  Keen eyes remained on Cyril.

“My apologies for startling you Bishop,” Aetius said, bowing.

Dark purple fabric draped handsomely across broad shoulder armament framed the General and caused him to look statuesque. The same shoulders accented Aetius’ narrow waist and muscular thighs.  He was a seasoned captain in the Roman Legion, recently appointed General. Aetius always wore his armament in public.

“Aetius,” Cyril said, returning his blade.  “Do you not think to announce yourself?”

Subdued anger muffled with Cyril’s breath.  Aetius studied Cyril silently, noting Cyril’s temperamental nature as a dangerous fault. Aetius regarded Cyril with disdain.

Leo’s leather sandals scraped lightly against the tile flooring.  The men turned to see Deacon Leo exit his rooms and enter the courtyard.

“Ah, we are all present,” he said and acknowledged Aetius and Cyril.

“The air is splendid this evening. Are there no lamps to brighten our assembly?” Leo asked with authority and smiled at Aetius who returned the greeting. 

Bishop Cyril began to pace once again as Aetius left the courtyard to fetch a lamp.

“What…” Cyril began but was interrupted by Leo.

“Cyril, please incorporate patience into your schema.”

Cyril frowned and leaned against the balcony.  Aetius returned quickly and smiled slightly upon hearing Leo admonishing Cyril.

Cracked travertine marble adorned the small table next to Leo where Aetius placed the lamp. Leo continued before either men could speak.

“Bishop? The vault?  Did you remove the gold unnoticed?” Leo asked Cyril.

Cyril nodded efficiently and to Leo’s satisfaction.  Leo smiled. Then Cyril placed his hand inside his cloak and removed a leather pouch tied tightly at the top. Thrusting a finger into the small opening, he forced it wide and slid a coin from the purse and handed it to Leo.

Leo held it up to the light of the lamp and examined it carefully as if he’d never seen a gold solidus coin before this moment. He rubbed a thumb over the profile of the late Emperor of the Eastern Empire, Theodosius I, who’s diademed image adorned the coin.  Flipping the coin effortlessly he read the exergue.

“Minted here in Constantinople. What a fascinating enterprise it is to manufacture money,” he said with sincerity, then handed Cyril the coin who promptly placed it back into the pouch.

“Two hundred more like this one neatly trayed and bundled, ready for our journey home,” Cyril said curtly.

“Ah, then,” Leo said and relaxed back on the marble bench. “We are pleased.  May I have the key?”

Cyril handed Leo the key with the golden eagle.  Leo looked at it and put it in his pocket.

“Ruga now wears the eagle emblem of the Foederati. He mentioned renegotiating military terms,” Aetius said.

“We are not concerned with Ruga.  He most likely stole the emblem from the neck of his dead brother, Mundzuk.  Ruga is not in accord with the arrangement Mundzuk held with us,” Leo said.

“Yet he acts as if he is entitled to the same provisions! Already he has breached the contract,” Cyril snapped angrily.

Leo observed Cyril walking to and fro.

“Dear Bishop.  Ruga’s arrogance will be his downfall. We have seen it before with tribal leaders. This fact and time has proven us correct.  Patience, Cyril, patience.”

Leo finally slapped his hand hard on the stone bench.

“Sit down! You’re pacing is making us unsteady.” Leo said.

Leo’s crystal blue eyes glared icily at Cyril causing him to freeze and clench his teeth.  Leo lifted his head and inhaled the sea air.  A quiet restrained sigh coated his exhalation.

“There is no contract with Ruga, therefore there is no breach of contract,” Leo said calmly.

Cyril dropped onto a bench opposite Leo and sulked. Leo turned to the Aetius. “What do we know, Aetius?”

“Ruga’s army is encamped in the Scutari mountain range, merely a small fleet just beyond the ridge but with enough soldiers to war.  It is time for Ruga to die before his reign takes hold of the Huns,” Aetius said.

“Yes,” Leo sighed.

Cyril fidgeted with a cup in his impatience. Leo looked at Cyril and he quieted.

“You are quite certain the Emperor knows nothing of the gold in the church vault?”

“I am,” Cyril said. “He relies upon the mint in Constantinople and upon his steward to manage his accounts,” he added.

“Fear of the Huns easily distracts him as well,” Aetius added.

“Yes. Yes you speak the truth, Aetius,” Leo said.

“The Emperor would continue to pay tribute at these outrageous prices,” Cyril began.

“Yes, Cyril.  This is also truth,” Leo said.

“We could persuade the Emperor to agree to the terms.  That would not be a task. He is willing to do what is necessary to avoid warring with the Huns,” Aetius said.

“But if Ruga dies, Bleda and worse, Attila would secede from the Foederati and unleash hell on Earth,” Cyril said.

“Attila, well, we must think further on his matter,” Leo said and paused to reflect and tapped his finger on his upper lip.

“You speak wise words, Bishop, yet all is not entirely true.  When Ruga dies Bleda will assume command of the East and Attila the West.  Bleda could be bribed with gold to keep peace.  He wants no more than to think he controls our fate. But Attila may not be so easily swayed,” Aetius said.

Aetius had their attention.

“Bleda is a murdering mongrel with rank.  Attila is the cleverest of warring leaders. We cannot control Attila with money, no, but he would negotiate terms for the type of treasure he valued most,” Aetius said.

“And what terms would suit him?” Cyril asked.

“Attila could be bribed,” Aetius said, smiling at his own idea.

Leo and Cyril were intrigued.

“How so? You said Attila cares not for the bribes of money,” Cyril said.

“Go on,” Leo said.

“He keeps a woman close to his side.  We could use her somehow to force Attila to come to terms,” Aetius said with strategic prowess.

“Ah, yes, Aetius.  Tell us more,” Leo said.

“No Hun keeps a woman that close unless she is his first chosen wife or unless she is revered as sacred. I have seen this with the Huns,” he said.

“Find out who this woman is and what her association is with Attila. As for Bleda, we can convince the Emperor to pay the extra gold to bring Bleda in accord.  Aetius,” Leo said, looking at the General.  “We leave Ruga to your expert discretion, my friend, and to God’s just graces,” Leo said as he placed his hand over his heart and momentarily bowed in prayer. He looked up at Aetius. “But we will accept the Khan’s terms first, to show our good-natured support of the treaty. And to divert suspicion,” Leo’s eyes glinted in the light of the oil lamp.

“Twelve hundred coins are still in our bargaining power,” Cyril said smugly.

“You miscount, Cyril. There are more than twelve hundred coins in the chest,” Leo said with a disturbed frown.

Aetius turned toward Cyril.

“No, Deacon Leo, twelve hundred not including the two hundred I procured at your request. I counted twice for certainty. The count in the vault remains, twelve hundred,” Cyril said, offended that the Leo thought he erred.

Leo stood abruptly and began to pace before Cyril and Aetius. Leo turned toward them with a malevolent expression, eyes ablaze with silent rage.

“Four times as much was the last count,” he said.

Aetius and Cyril glanced at one another.

“The last count yielded more than 4800 coins,” he said again louder, agitated. “Aetius?” he said suddenly, looking for an answer.

“Your Grace,” Cyril blurted.  “Perhaps Ruga has found out about the vault…”

“No. Impossible,” interrupted Aetius.  “The Legion commands loyal service. The entrance to the vault has been guarded from all who do not bear Foederati status.”

“He carries the key in plain sight, General,” Cyril said with an overtly condescending tone.

“He is a Hun, your Grace,” Aetius remarked emphatically. “He would not be allowed within fifty paces of the vault.”

“You’re sure of this Aetius? No one has entered the vault without permission by Foederati members?” asked Leo.

“No one save for the members,” Aetius spoke with assurance, then added, “If Ruga somehow knew about it and used an infiltrator, he would not have left any gold at all, your Grace,” Aetius said while staring down Cyril.

“Hmm, yes.”

Leo sat down and leaned back looking over the balcony wall toward the sky.

“Father Scato has personally seen to the transfer of the gold to the vault. He guarantees its safety,” Cyril said earnestly, sitting across from Leo.

“My Dear Bishop. Nothing is guaranteed in this world except God’s forgiveness,” Leo narrowed his eyes at him.

“Then if it is not Father Scato who steals from us, and if Ruga is not…”

“It appears as if we are being swindled by another Foederati member,” said Leo coldly.

“Or perhaps by someone else who has access to the church itself,” Aetius said with a calculated grin.

“The Emperor?” Questioned Cyril with skepticism.

“No,” said Leo. “The Empress, my dear Bishop. The Empress has need of funding for her clandestine pagan enterprises. Yes. Yes, of course,” Leo droned.  “Intrigue is so…intriguing, is it not?” Leo paused. “It appears as if the snake of Eden slithers into our garden gentlemen. And we will use the power of God to strike it down before it seduces us. Aetius, go now.  Let us lean our sights on the women,” Leo said and tapped his fingers together. “And of course, there is the matter of Ruga.”

Aetius bowed to Leo first, then to Cyril.

“General Aetius,” Leo began.

Aetius pivoted.  Purple folds of his cloak twirled and settled regally across his body.

“We cannot arouse suspicion.”

Aetius nodded succinctly.

Cyril peered at Leo briefly and bobbed his head with a wicked smile. The Bishop Cyril felt infinitely more assured.

“There is a man,” Seira began.

Eudocia whispered quietly to Paulinus then sent to him to her offices with a task. The Empress turned to Seira with full attention.

“Yes, Dear, I’m listening to you.  Please, go on,” she said from her place on the divan.