Selene of Alexandria (23 page)

The barrel-chested man broke into a broad grin and bowed low to the Patriarch. Cyril nodded his acknowledgement and continued. "The wife may take her dowry portion and no more. She is forbidden to take another husband until such time as her presbyter pronounces her free of demonic influence."

The wife trembled. Tears sprang to her eyes. Her father came forward, taking her arm and whispering in her ear. Cyril heard her reply, in a low voice, "No, it is enough that I am away from him." They both bowed and the parties withdrew.

The next case concerned one of the presbyters who had supported Timothy for the Bishopric. Along with three others, he had been replaced shortly after Cyril's investiture. Cyril frowned over the notes handed to him. These were serious charges. What he was about to do would be perceived by his enemies as persecution, but he had no choice.

"Arius, come forward."

A heavyset man with gray-tinged curls made his way through the crowd. He wore the simple robes of a presbyter.

Cyril leaned forward and said, sorrowfully, "I am told your son engages in lewd behavior on the Sabbath, consults magical books and conducts auguries. These are sorcerous practices."

Arius stood straight, but sweat stood out on his forehead. "Those are false charges, Patriarch. My son is a student and mathematician. He has occasionally attended the theater or prepared astrological charts for friends, but he conducts no magic, casts no spells."

"Theater going and the practice of astrology are forbidden to those in the church. You have failed to control your son and therefore have put him in danger." Cyril leaned back in his chair. "You must hand him over to me for judgment."

"But conviction of sorcery means death!" Arius paled. "I can not turn over my son for execution."

"If what you say is true, he is in no danger." Cyril's voice grew hard. "The laws are clear. Until you produce your son, you are banned from all participation in the church. You cannot attend services, partake of the sacraments, or minister as a presbyter. You are cut off from the body of Christ and his holy community."

Arius clenched his jaws till the ample flesh trembled from the tension. He narrowed his eyes and ground out between his teeth, "As the Patriarch wills."

The scribes noted the outcome and prepared copies for all the deacons. Arius would not be able to enter any church until the Patriarch absolved him. Cyril turned back to his list of supplicants secure in his judgment.

Orestes watched Cyril judge his last two cases – one a breach of contract between two merchants and the other determining a guardian for an orphan boy with a rich inheritance. Orestes felt the Patriarch rendered fair decisions based on the facts as presented. The previous Prefect had agreed to the church taking on magisterial duties as a way of reducing state costs and, consequently, making those funds available for his personal enjoyment. Orestes had to admit it reduced congestion in the courts, but he resented the easy assumption of power. The people, used to bringing their tales of woe to the church, increasingly accepted arbitration from the Bishops.

When the last supplicant had been ushered away by the Patriarch's attendants, Orestes made his presence known.

"Lord Prefect." Cyril stayed seated in his Bishop's chair. "I'm pleased you could attend me. I received your letter asking for an audience."

"Patriarch." Orestes was obliged to stand in the Patriarch's presence, unless bade to sit. Heat began to flush up Orestes' neck at the lack of an invitation to do so. "Perhaps we could conduct our business in a less public setting."

Cyril looked around as if noticing for the first time the dozens of clerks, deacons and other attendants. "Of course." He rose from his chair. "Join me in my sitting room."

Orestes left his own entourage of guards in the inner courtyard, but signaled Demetrius to attend him in the Patriarch's chambers. They left the vast receiving hall and climbed narrow steps to the Patriarch's private rooms. Cyril had removed the heavy draperies after Theophilus' death, but changed little else. The furniture, carpets and appointments exuded lushness out of keeping with the austere demeanor of the Patriarch. In the privacy of this room, Cyril ushered Orestes to a chair and gestured to a servant for refreshments. Demetrius stood at his master's shoulder to serve him.

"How may I be of service, Lord Prefect?" Cyril sat, elbows on the chair arms, fingertips touching in a peak.

"It is a matter most urgent. The Origenists have already left the city. Bishop Theopemptus of the Novatians has appealed to me for protection. It seems that presbyters under your orders have seized his churches and looted the congregational plate. His sect follows a strict code of asceticism, not unlike the desert monasteries in which you studied. What possible objection do you have to their existence?"

"'Looted' is a harsh word. A recent Imperial edict allows Bishops to take measures against schismatics, including confiscating buildings and their contents."

"That edict named sanctions against the Donatist sect," Orestes countered.

"Of course." Cyril smiled. "The Novatians persist in the Donatist error that the priest must be pure to administer the sacraments. My brother Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, demolished that philosophy in his most recent writings. Pope Innocent of Rome has started the purge of Novatians from his domain. I only follow in the Holy Father's footsteps."

Orestes knew defeat when confronted with it. It left the taste of ashes in his mouth which the dry red wine the servant brought could not remove. The Origenists and Novatians had sided with Archdeacon Timothy in the fight for the succession. Cyril was purging the city of his political enemies under the guise of consolidation and with the sanction of the Emperor and the Pope.

Orestes set the goblet of wine on a wooden stand. "Then we have nothing to speak of, Patriarch. I had hoped for a more charitable outcome."

"What could be more charitable than saving those poor people from the error of their ways?" Cyril looked genuinely surprised. "They will be welcomed in our churches. They lose nothing but the harsh requirements of their masters. Can you not see the hardship their Bishop's belief wreaked on his congregations? The potential for schism and recrimination?" Cyril shook his head vehemently. "That can not be allowed."

Unconvinced of the purity of Cyril's motives, Orestes rose and bowed. "My mission here is finished. Good day to you, Patriarch."

"We still have much we can discuss, Prefect. Your attendance at church services, the abomination of the mimes and entertainers. These require your attention. Leave the internal affairs of the church to me and attend those in your domain."

Stung by Cyril's censuring tone, Orestes said, "I'll take it under advisement, Patriarch," spun on his heel and left, Demetrius trailing.

In the street, Orestes said ruefully to Demetrius, "Cyril made sure I knew my place."

"The Patriarch was within his rights concerning the other churches."

"I know. I hoped to use his youth and inexperience to my advantage." Orestes shook his head. "I won't underestimate him again."

"His youth and inexperience prompted him to treat you in such a manner. Give him time to grow into his role." Demetrius opened the door to the street. "I'm sure you two will be able to work out an amicable relationship."

"I hope so, for Alexandria's sake."

Chapter 18

"Selene! Wait for me."

Selene looked around the crowd of students for the source of the familiar voice. She spotted Antonius weaving down the side of a colonnade, and waited for him.

"I see your father gave up on the chaperones." Antonius grinned at her. He topped her by a couple of inches, now that he had reached his full height.

"Never!" She laughed. "The Prefect has kept the peace the last few months so, after Nicaeus left for the army, Father agreed to let me take Rebecca. She goes to the market or visits her family while I go to classes."

"It's been a year since you proposed your crazy scheme. Are you happy, Selene?" He led her by the hand to a nook shaded by a large date tree, where they settled on a stone bench.

"More than I ever thought possible, Antonius. I am learning so much! Auxentius says I have learned all I can from the texts without some experience. He recommends I start apprenticing. Haroun grumbles that I'm not ready, while arranging for me to assist the surgeons at the city charity ward. It's more than I ever dreamed." Selene's face settled into a radiant smile. "And you, my friend? Are you happy? You wed Honoria in two weeks. I know she is ecstatic."

"Honoria is a fine girl, but her major asset is the dowry she brings." Antonius' head drooped as he stared at his clenched fists resting in his lap. "Father is in dire straits and this is one way to stave off financial ruin – for a while."

"I'm so sorry." Selene clutched his arm. "Your father just sponsored the new statue of the emperor. I thought his money troubles were over."

"He puts on a brave front. Many of the old families are in similar difficulties. Taxes go up, expectations for city improvements continue, while crops fail."

Selene nodded. "Father complains that many prosperous merchants are declining the honor of becoming a civitas. The obligations of city, church and empire are just too burdensome."

"Honoria's father is one of those shrewd enough to hold on to his wealth while marrying into nobility," Antonius said bitterly.

"But you're well educated and of an old family. Surely there will be a position for you. You don't have to marry Honoria if it makes you so unhappy."

"With my future father-in-law's money and influence, I can acquire a function in the city government. My father has his good name, but little else. Without a rich patron, my prospects are slim. Nicaeus once joked that I could join the army or the hermits. Neither appeals to me. I have no wish to travel beyond this city for either war or peace."

"My dear friend, I would give anything to make this right." Selene rested her head on his shoulder as she wrestled with divided loyalties. "Can't you learn to care for Honoria? She is a sweet and loyal person and loves you very much."

"It's impossible," Antonius whispered.

Selene sighed. "Then I will speak to Phillip. He is much in Orestes' company. They can find a place for you. If not here, possibly in Constantinople."

Antonius' face lightened briefly as if considering the possibility; then his shoulders slumped. "I think not. My father needs this dowry and I have two other brothers who require places. At least this marriage allows me to stay here."

"Why is it so important to stay in Alexandria? Constantinople is a thriving city, with many opportunities for clever young men. You might make your fortune at court."

He lifted a lock of her shoulder-length hair and curled it around his finger. "Would you wait for me, Selene?"

"What do you mean?" She pulled away in confusion.

"I have long known you did not feel for me what I felt for you. We grew up together and you are all I've ever wanted. I love your courage, your wit, even your stubbornness. But you have only called me 'friend'." Antonius gripped her arms. "Last year, when my father revealed his plans for me to wed Honoria, I ranted, refused to consider it. I thought of asking you to run away with me."

His eyes searched her face. Seeing her frown of shock and surprise, Antonius dropped his grip and turned away, head in hands. "What kind of life would that be for you? You are so happy with your studies. I can offer you nothing, but I can do a great deal for my family."

She should have known. All the hints, the teasing, the warm looks. She was blind not to see. No, not blind. Selene hadn't wanted to see; hadn't wanted to act on her own feelings – the confused urgings that pulled her toward the warmth, caring and safety of marriage; things she didn't want to want.

"Tell me, Selene, have you given your heart to another, while I hesitated?" Antonius raised his head, pain pinching his mouth. "I've seen how you moon about Orestes."

She babbled, giving herself time to make sense of his declaration and her reactions. "The only woman Orestes shows any interest in is Hypatia. There is some scandal rumored among the servants, though I think they are just great friends and she an able advisor." The lines of hurt deepened at the corners of his eyes. "Oh, Antonius, why didn't you say something sooner? Why now?"

"I saw you walking down the colonnade, looking so beautiful, and had to talk to you – tell you my feelings. I know this is selfish, but it might be my last chance."

Selene's heart pounded. She had tried so hard to put away love, ignore cravings for physical affection while pursuing her studies. Now those urges coursed through her as inexorably as the Nile floods, sweeping all her carefully built dikes before it. She lowered her gaze to her left hand clenching her linen tunic and absently smoothed the wrinkles.

"Have no suitors approached your father?" Antonius asked.

Selene looked into his eyes and smiled. "My reputation for stubbornness precedes me." She turned solemn. "I fear my father is falling into similar straits as yours. He is unhappy for days after Phillip returns from the farms. I sometimes hear them arguing. The very fact Father allows me to study a profession tells me he fears for the future." Selene gave Antonius a level stare. "With or without the prospect of a dowry, I've found no suitor for whom I would give up my aspirations."

"So you have given your heart." He barked a bitter laugh. "Just not to another man. My dreams of us together could never compete with your ambition to be a physician, just as I never could compete with you in a race." He tipped her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. "Let me at least know what I'm missing."

He bent his head to hers, covering her mouth with a hard, insistent kiss, caressing her back. Warmth flashed from her groin, trembling along her nerves. Her eyes flew wide then drooped in dreamy ecstasy. She leaned into his body, feeling the firm muscles of his chest against her breasts, smelling the musk of his sweat, kissing him back with a fierce intensity that surprised and confused her.