Selene of Alexandria (27 page)

She bounced toward Selene, took both hands in hers. They brushed cheeks and parted. "My dear friend! I told Mother we couldn't start without you. Help me finish preparing." Honoria turned again as her mother approached with the veil and a circlet of flowers to hold it in place. Selene murmured something polite and helped the older woman arrange the veil in flowing folds down her friend's back.

Arete stepped back and smiled. "My daughter, you look beautiful."

"Do I?" Honoria fussed with her robes, tweaking them one way, then another, jangling various gold bracelets and necklaces. "I so want Antonius to like me. I do want to be beautiful for him. What do you think, Selene? Father paid a fortune for this material. Does it suit me?"

Selene broke into her first smile of the day. "Yes. It suits you, my friend. The color is perfect for your skin, and your eyes out-sparkle your jewels. Antonius will have no complaints."

Honoria gave her a quick hug then turned to her mother. "I'm ready now." They pulled the veil over her face and the women trickled out toward the courtyard.

The garden's air was thick with the fragrance of thousands of roses set in vases, twisted in lavish arrangements, scattered in pools and fountains. It gave Selene a headache and made her nose itch. Leave it to Arete to go to extremes for a simple ceremony. The wedding feast was likely to be equally lavish. At the thought of exotic food, Selene's stomach rebelled.

Honoria's father came forward to claim his daughter. He was a short, pear-shaped man with a stubborn set to his jaw and the hawk nose of his Syrian ancestors. Ision took Honoria's arm and tucked it under his own, leading her to the center of the garden, in front of a splashing fountain. Antonius and his father waited there. Misty drops sparkled in Antonius' dark curls. He looked as pale and drawn as Selene felt. His glance crossed hers and held for a brief moment. The hint of a smile warmed his face before he turned his gaze to his bride.

The priest came forward, a gaunt black crow among the plump many-colored plovers of Ision's family. He joined the bride and groom's hands and launched into a homily on the sacred nature of marriage.

Selene bitterly contemplated the unlikelihood she would ever make a match; her emotional pain mirrored by the cramping in her womb. Nausea gripped her stomach. Her courses rarely caused her so much trouble. Panic rose at the thought that she might disgrace herself by vomiting in the bushes or fainting from the smell of the roses. She calmed herself with deep breaths trying to focus on the priest's final words.

"The purpose of marriage is to honor the One True God, to mirror in the union of a man and a woman the love Jesus has for us. May the Lord Jesus Christ look favorably on this marriage and give Antonius and Honoria peace, prosperity and happiness. May Holy Mary, Mother of God, bless this union with many children. Let us pray."

Selene spread her arms and bowed her head, blinking back tears. At the end, she raised her head to see Antonius' despairing glance.

Ision turned to the company. "Good friends, esteemed guests, please join me in honoring the bride and groom at the wedding feast." A cheer went up from the small throng, subsiding into loud murmurs as family and guests wandered toward the triclinium.

Women shrieked and male bodies bullied close. Selene poked a sharp elbow into a soft belly, shouting, "Stay back! Give me room!" She knelt next to her father and felt for a pulse in his neck. It was fast and irregular. His breath came in great ragged gasps; his face pale and sweaty; his left arm drawn up across his chest. She knew it must be a weakness in his heart. There was nothing she could do but make him comfortable.

"Father?" she asked as his eyelids fluttered. "Can you hear me?"

"Pain…in my chest." He gripped her arm with his right hand. It was surprisingly strong. "Phillip. Must get Phil…"

"Yes, Father, I'm here." Selene's brother knelt on the other side of Calistus. "I've sent for a physician and a litter. We'll take you home." Phillip pushed disheveled hair from his father's forehead as the older man slipped into unconsciousness. Selene saw her brother's ravaged face as he tried to control his fear.

"Selene, is there anything we can do for him?"

She mutely shook her head.

Ision loudly ordered everyone to the banquet room then instructed the servants to place Calistus on a litter. Selene, dimly aware of Phillip making their apologies, stood, turned around and walked into Antonius. "I'm so sorry, Antonius," she said as she burst into tears.

He clutched her tightly to his chest, stroking her hair, mumbling soothingly. She sobbed, then struggled away leaving a black smudge of kohl and a wet spot on his white tunic. In panic she searched for Honoria, expecting her friend's face to reflect rage or pain. It only showed sorrow.

Honoria approached and enveloped Selene in a hug. "Oh, my friend, take heart. Your father is yet alive. Maybe God will have mercy and let him abide awhile yet with his earthly family."

Selene disentangled herself. "This was to be a day of happiness for you. I'm sorry we spoiled your wedding, but we must go."

Honoria took her friend's arm and escorted her in the wake of the litter. "Of course. We'll all pray for your father. If there is anything I or Antonius can do, please send word."

Chapter 21

Selene watched closely as Urbib sniffed her father's breath, lifted his eyelids and laid an ear to his chest. Although a Jew, the physician cared for many of the Christian elite.

In consultation with Auxentius, Selene had been dosing her father's bedtime wine with tincture of nightshade. She knew there was little medicine could do once the heart reached an advanced state of decline, but she had felt she had to try. Now she worried about her presumptuous actions. What if her meddling had made things worse?

She chewed her fingernail, lost in guilt, until the pain of a ripped and bleeding cuticle brought her back to the present. Haroun had warned Selene about doing surgery with cuts on her hands. He claimed the miasma of illness could enter a healthy body through openings and cause wounds to fester. She had nearly broken her habit of biting her nails during the last year.

"What do you think, Honored Doctor?" Phillip asked.

Selene looked up with hope.

"His humors don't sound good." Urbib harrumphed, pulled at his curly beard, and turned to Phillip. "I don't think he will live much longer. At fifty-and-two years, he is older than most of my patients. I feel it is time the family said good-bye."

"No!" Selene cried. "There must be something else we can do."

He looked down his long nose at her, paused for a breath and addressed her sternly, as he would an errant child. "I am aware you have been dabbling in medical studies. A practice of which, I am in strong opposition." He addressed his next remarks to Phillip, dismissing Selene. "I've delivered my diagnosis and learned opinion. I will send a tincture of poppy to ease his pain. Give him three drops in a cup of warm wine every four hours. Do you have any other questions?"

Phillip's gaze tracked from his sister's angry red face to the physician's disdainful one. "No, sir. We appreciate your prompt attendance." He escorted Urbib to the door talking low and handed over a laden purse.

Selene pulled a three-legged stool to her father's bedside and held his hand. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She feared her father would leave her soon and she wasn't ready.

She winced from a sharp cramp roiling her womb, followed by heaviness in her groin and sticky wetness between her thighs. Curses! She was bleeding through her cloths.

"Mistress?" Rebecca softly touched her shoulder. "You should get food and rest."

Phillip returned in time to catch the last remark. "Yes, Selene. Get something to eat. I'll watch father for a while. If anything changes, I'll send for you."

Selene followed Rebecca out of her father's room. "I just feel so helpless," she wailed to her servant and confidante.

Rebecca put an arm around Selene's shoulders and led her upstairs. She helped Selene clean up and went for some medicine. Selene sat on her bed, plucking at a nub in the fabric of her coverlet. She reviewed the remedies she had learned, rejecting one after the other. In the end, she was left only with prayer, which did not come naturally to her.

Since God had seen fit to ignore her childish pleas to spare her mother, Selene had lost faith in the power of prayer to heal. Instead she relied on human knowledge and the study of medicine. She recognized now how woefully she had ignored her spiritual life. Now she had little faith to sustain her in her fear and confusion.

She smelled the concoction before Rebecca came into the room – mint with honey to take away the bitterness of the healing herb. Rebecca placed the tray on a stand next to the bed. Selene picked up the cup and absently sipped the steaming liquid. The mint soothed her upset stomach and the medicine eased her cramps. She concentrated on the flavors; a smoky aftertaste she couldn't quite place.

"Rebecca, where do you get this mixture? No one I know makes this infusion."

Rebecca turned to her in surprise. "An old Egyptian woman who lives on the border between the Jewish and Rhakotis quarters. She supplies medicines and charms to servants and slaves for small coins or in kind."

Rebecca frowned as she looked Selene over from head to toe. "We'll need to find something suitable for you to wear. You can't go traipsing about in your best finery; you'll attract every thief and murderer for miles."

Selene dressed in the worn servant's robes Rebecca provided for her – rough brown cloth with many patches and a wine stain on the left breast. At least it's clean, she thought. She pulled a beige shawl over her head and stepped into much-patched sandals. Rebecca had already combed out her hair and dressed it in a simple braid.

They took the back ways through the private rooms to the servants' quarters, out the kitchen, to the alley. They joined throngs of servants headed for the marketplace, then worked their way through the Jewish quarter to Rhakotis, site of the original Egyptian village on top of which Alexander built his city.

Selene momentarily forgot her father's illness at the alien sights and sounds. She remembered the smell of garlic and fried fish wafting from the public kitchens from her visit over a year ago. Gangs of small children still roamed the streets kicking balls, hauling baskets or minding even smaller children. But there seemed to be a tension in the air.

Rebecca called to people she knew. They looked at Selene, exploring her face, noting her clothes and passing judgment on her fitness to be there. None barred her way, but she felt sharp eyes bore into her back. They wended their way down a narrow side road to a hut tucked behind a public kitchen on a back alley.

Rebecca entered the hut first calling, "Mother Nut?"

Selene followed stepping over piles of discarded clothes and heaps of bones. A cracked voice called out from a corner. "You've come to see Mother Nut, little ones? Come closer."

Selene sidled across the floor, trying not to touch the odorous piles. As she approached the dark corner a slightly larger heap began to move. In the dim light she could just make out matted gray hair and a dark face with skin like cracked leather. A claw-like hand grabbed Selene's arm. The old woman sniffed at her. "Come for some of my wonder potion for women's difficulties?"

"How did you know about my problems?"

"Women in their courses smell different." The old woman chuckled and pointed at her ear. "You are not what you seem. My ears are as good as my nose and your accent is not of this quarter. Who brought you here? Why does a lady visit my hut?"

"I've been told you deal in special charms and herbs that heal," Selene said. "My father is gravely ill with a weakness of the heart. His physician has given up hope, but I haven't. I've been dosing him with nightshade for several months. Do you have anything else that would be of help?"

"Do you know herbs, child?" Mother Nut cackled, gusting breath so laden with garlic, Selene stepped back.

"Some. I've been studying medicine at the Museum for more than a year."

The old woman snorted. "You can't learn medicine from dusty books, girl. You need to get out among the sick." She turned to a shelf and rummaged. "I think I have something that might help your father."