Selene of Alexandria (14 page)

Chapter 11

Orestes waited under the covered walkway in the Museum precincts for Hypatia; his curiosity about the Lady Philosopher mixed with a touch of trepidation. For two generations, the elite of Africa and the East had come to study with the famous philosopher/mathematician. He looked forward to a private audience with the woman who commanded such respect in her city and abroad, but feared she might find him wanting.

To soothe his unaccustomed nervousness, he studied an exquisite wall mural showing Narcissus at a pool with Egyptian reeds and crocodiles. Throughout the city he found this curious mixture of cultures: Greek columns and their capitals decorated with the likenesses of Egyptian plants and animals, Greek clothing adorned with Egyptian jewelry, Greek tapestries showing ancient Egyptian gods and myths. Even in families, the mixture was evident in the use of names from both cultures. Rome had stamped its likeness in more subtle ways upon the city, in the form of government, taxes and the ubiquitous use of concrete.

Voices raised in excited discussion drew his attention. Hypatia, surrounded by a flock of students, approached her offices. She moved with the grace of a young woman, although white liberally streaked her black hair. Her former beauty showed in the fine bones of her face and the sparkling of her dark eyes, but time had added the inevitable creases to her brow and sagging flesh about the jowls and throat.

He watched her shoo the boys away and stride briskly toward him, hands outstretched. She took both his hands in hers and smiled up at his towering form. "Lord Prefect! You shouldn't be loitering in the hallways. Did none of the students offer to show you into my rooms?"

He smiled back. "They did, Madam Philosopher, but I declined. I wished to observe the coming and goings of the most famous school in the Empire." He indicated bustling students carrying the tools of their trade: books, wax slates, musical instruments, paint pots. "This is truly a shrine to the Muses."

"The Museum still has its heart – students, teachers, books – even if the physical buildings no longer exist." Hypatia made a sweeping gesture. "These public rooms are our home now. The Ptolemys built a magnificent Museum and Library as part of a palace complex that covered almost a third of this city, but that was destroyed over two hundred years ago, along with the gardens and zoo. The scholars saved much, but from the surviving inventories, we know much was lost as well."

Orestes watched a knot of boys pass by laughing over some story. "The students seem content."

Hypatia stared after the boys with a fond look then shook her head. "I am also content to live in these modern times. The ancient kings and emperors kept their scholars close and used them for their own ends. Our Alexandria is a city of learning available to all – the Museum, the Great Library, the Christian Catechetical School, the Jewish Shul." She paused then patted his arm. "To the business at hand. Would you care to see the Library or stroll the neighborhood?"

"A walk sounds delightful. After only a few days in Alexandria, I see far too many scrolls."

Hypatia tucked his arm under hers and strolled down the corridor toward a patch of green. "What is the nature of these scrolls?"

"Lists and accounts, petitions for action of some kind – granting contracts for hauling grain, settling disputed inheritances, building public works. More than a few ask for restrictions on some group or another – banning mimes and street dancers, a tax on the wool merchants. One suggested a ban on chariots in the city streets."

Orestes smiled at the look of mock horror on the learned scholar's face. Hypatia was famous for her chariot rides through the city.

"The gods forefend! Someone is trying to deprive me of one of my most cherished activities? Let me guess." Hypatia put a finger beside her nose, sunk in thought. "The vegetable merchants! I accidentally overset a cart several months ago and the purveyor of greens threatened retribution."

"No, my dear Lady. The vegetable merchants are one of the few groups I have yet to hear from. If I remember correctly, it is the litter bearers who protest the use of private chariots on the basis of public safety."

"I suspect their motives have more to do with restricting competition or the need to clean their sandals frequently."

Orestes laughed out loud – a rare occurrence.

Hypatia's face dimpled like a young girl's when she smiled up at Orestes. "I am quite a good charioteer. Let me demonstrate my skills." She scanned the crowd of boys and men until, apparently satisfied, she startled Orestes by shouting, "Gaius, come here." A gangly boy with protruding front teeth swiveled his head, spotted the source of the command and headed their way.

Hypatia turned back to Orestes. "Now, Orestes, back to your paper predicament. May I presume you faced similar problems in your former assignments?"

"Exactly! Entrust routine matters to assistants. Let them deal with the paper. You deal with the people. Spend your time and effort on issues more critical to the functioning of the city."

"What do you see as most critical?"

"There is a rising tide of hate and violence in the city which mirrors the schisms in the Empire." Hypatia's tone turned somber. "With a boy Emperor in Constantinople, many see an opportunity to take power locally. You can provide a force for bringing these factions together, but you must be strong and, above all, be perceived as impartial in your dealings."

"I concur." Orestes nodded. "This city seems more fractious than most. Like a high-strung horse, it needs a strong hand to thoroughly train it. But first I'll have to gain its trust."

"An apt metaphor! After our tour, you must tell me what you think of the wild steed you've been sent to tame." Hypatia pointed out buildings and people of interest as they walked toward more utilitarian buildings clustered on the edges of the sprawling Museum compound.

Orestes marveled at the magnetism of the woman on his arm. He barely knew her, yet talked as easily as if they had grown up together and shared life's secrets. He tried to be suspicious of this power Hypatia seemed to have over him, but failed. He genuinely enjoyed her company.

The pungent smell of manure announced their approach to the stables. A chariot with a pair of handsome bay geldings awaited them. Hypatia went to the fore and rubbed the horses' noses. Orestes looked over the rig and nodded his approval of the maintenance of the chariot and harnesses.

They belong to a former student, who makes them available to me." Hypatia slipped two pieces of apple from a hidden pouch and fed the animals. "One of my few indulgences. I hold a teaching chair from the city but the stipend would not allow me to keep such lovely creatures and provide for their upkeep." She moved around the chariot, nimbly jumped into the car before Orestes could give her a hand up, and gathered the reins. "Are you ready for an adventure?"

"My life is in your hands, Lady Philosopher," Orestes said grinning.

He took a position to the left and behind Hypatia. She slapped the reins and shouted "Hie!" to the horses. They tossed their heads and took off at a quick trot. Orestes grabbed for a handhold on the edge of the chariot and settled his weight on the balls of his feet, glorying in the rushing wind.

Hypatia provided a fund of historical information and contemporary gossip as they toured her favorite parts of the city. Orestes found he had much in common with this lady scholar: a disdain for formal trappings, a leaning toward an ascetic life. It was the same easy relationship Orestes had shared with his fellow army officers – a bonding of trust and common purpose. Something he never expected with a woman.

As they approached a crowded market street, the horses slowed to a sedate walk and picked their way gingerly through the shifting hordes of people and carts. Orestes marveled at their steadiness in the midst of chaos. He was about to compliment Hypatia on her skill when an old man hastened out of the crowd, followed closely by two men dressed in rough monk's robes and waving cudgels. The men ducked under the horses' noses, causing them to snort and back up. People behind the chariot shouted and made a sign to ward off evil. Others yelled curses, making the horses skittish.

The crowd closed around the monks and their quarry, blocking the chariot fore and aft. Orestes saw the cudgels come down and glimpsed a body fall to the ground. A woman screamed and the crowd milled, deadlocked by those moving toward the commotion and others trying to flee. The horses' eyes showed white and sweat darkened their necks. Hypatia's eyes darted over the crowd, looking for an opening while she crooned to the horses to soothe their nerves. Orestes feared they might take the bit and run which would surely cause injury and possibly death to some in the crowd.

"Good people, back away!" Orestes shouted in his parade ground voice. "Make way for the Prefect and Lady Hypatia." He continued shouting until the edges of the crowd thinned.

A shoving match at the center of a tight knot of people concluded as bystanders pinioned the arms of the combatants.

"Bring those men to me," Orestes shouted. The curious crowd pressed close as the men were brought to the chariot.

"Why were you pursuing this man?" Orestes looked directly at the monks. They seemed to be of that rough element – the parabolans – he had spoken to Theophilus about. The old man had a lump rising on his forehead under a bloody cut.

The smaller of the parabolans spat on the ground. "He is an Origenist heretic and spreads his untruths by preaching in the streets. We will take him to our bishop for examination."

The old man struggled briefly in his captors' hands. "Theophilus has no jurisdiction over me. I follow my own bishop, who teaches the truths of St. Clement and his student Origen."

"See? He admits his heresy." The parabolan shook his arms free and crossed them in satisfaction. "The laws are clear. You must turn him over to us."

Orestes bristled at the man's easy assumption of power. "I hear no words of heresy from this man's mouth. Any disputes should be worked out between your bishops, not taken to the streets. I am responsible for public safety and you, sir, have caused a disruption. Be warned and take these words back to your superiors. I will not tolerate attacks on private citizens by criminal or monk. You," he pointed to the old man, "be gone. The monks will abide with me a moment."

The Origenist fled through the crowds, looking fearfully over his shoulder. The parabolans scowled at Orestes, but held their tongues. When the old man escaped from view, Orestes sent the parabolans on their way with a final warning. The crowd, realizing the show was over, turned away, muttering their dissatisfaction that no one had been punished.

As the people dispersed, the horses tossed their heads, but seemed visibly calmer. Orestes was impressed Hypatia had kept the horses under control during the entire incident. He turned to her. "Do you have any insight into this dispute?"

"It's a complicated matter, these disputes among Christians." She shrugged. "On the surface are genuine disagreements about scripture, the nature of God and Christ, the fallibility of the human soul. At the core, I suspect a struggle for power and influence. One sect gains ascendancy with the Emperor and all others are outlawed. In Africa I have heard of whole congregations jailed and their lands and goods confiscated because they followed a Bishop named Donatus."

"The Emperor does not make my job easier." Orestes sighed. "Every dispatch brings new laws enumerating more heresies and their punishments."

"It's my understanding the Origenists have a more liberal view of Christianity than my friend the Patriarch can tolerate. They believe our souls are fallen spirits and this life but a trial which a soul experiences as many times as necessary to find God and holiness." Hypatia smiled ironically. "According to their beliefs, such as Socrates and Heraclitus were Christians before the time of Christ. They practice Christianity as true philosophy – love of wisdom, a search for God within. In another time, they would have been my students – not the church's."

Orestes, keeping an eye on the lathered horses, said, "Do you often run into disturbances of this nature?"

"Rarely before, but twice in the past year. I've been thinking about altering my route, but..." Hypatia raised her chin and a stubborn light glinted in her eyes. "I've driven through the city for decades and am loath to change my ways because of a few rough characters."

"I believe you should avoid this part of the city, Lady." He noticed her mouth set into a grim line. "At least let me provide you with an escort."

At that she laughed. "No, my good Orestes, I will not accept an escort in my own city. Come. I have a special place to show you."

Hypatia slapped the reins and guided the horses through the straight streets toward the Mediterranean Sea. The horses' hooves crunched on the oyster-shell road as they turned onto the seven-stadia Heptastadion Dyke toward the famous Pharos lighthouse. Orestes marveled at the ingenuity of the ancient engineers who had connected the island of Pharos to the mainland and divided the natural harbor into two sheltered bays. Pleasure boats floated in the eastern harbor like a great flock of birds on a quiet pond next to the navy docked below the ruined palace complex. The western harbor held barges and merchant ships.

Orestes had arrived by land and missed seeing the famous lighthouse from the sea. This was his first opportunity to view it up close. It was built in three sections: the lowest a massive square, the middle octagonal and the top cylindrical. A bronze statue of Neptune holding a trident adorned the top. The towering structure dwarfed the buildings clustered around its base.