Selene of Alexandria (28 page)

"I have coins." Selene started to dig into her pouch.

Mother Nut pulled two items from the shelf, turned and stared at Selene. "That's too easy, child. How much do you want to help your father?"

"I'll pay anything, do anything!"

"Anything?" The old woman rubbed a whiskered chin. "What do you know of healing?"

"Herb lore." Selene saw the old woman frown and continued quickly, "I've studied anatomy, some surgery and dentistry."

"I need a girl to learn my trade from me. I am old and my people will need another to take over their care." She looked at Selene from head to foot as if measuring her worth and finding her wanting. "I had some thought of asking you to apprentice, but such a fancy one as you would be no use to my people."

An apprenticeship? With this old witch? Selene hesitated. Both her teachers had recommended she apprentice, but she doubted they had Mother Nut in mind. However, Urbib's disdainful reaction was typical of the physicians she met at the hospitals. Alexandrine doctors, renowned throughout the Empire, kept their numbers small. The best took only one or two students sponsored by powerful patrons and the students paid handsomely for the privilege. Why would any physician take on a woman apprentice and one uncertain to pay at that? She could spend the rest of her life changing bandages and cleaning beds in the charity hospitals or she could learn as much as she could from those willing to teach her.

"Mother, if I offered my help, what might I learn?"

The old woman looked at her through matted hair. "Some humility to start. Death is inevitable. Healers can only postpone it for a while." She smiled a gap-toothed grin. "And I have secrets. No one knows herbs and minerals as I do. My magic comes from the god Imhotep himself. You are Christos, are you not?"

"Miracles!" The old woman's eyes disappeared in a mass of wrinkles as she laughed. "I see such miracles every day as the beggars return home, take off their bandages and remove their sores. Yes, child, you could learn much from me!"

Selene's breathing quickened, which she regretted when she caught another whiff of garlic. The thought of returning to this dreadful hovel was almost more than she could bear, but Mother Nut held some compelling spell over her. Obviously the old woman had some success or she would not have such a reputation as a healer among the poor. The crone, after all, might be able to teach her something.

"If your cure works on my father, I will gladly apprentice with you."

"Whether it works has little to do with you or me and everything to do with your father and his strength of spirit." The old woman handed Selene two objects – a packet of medicine and a small statue. "Come back, or not, as you wish."

Rebecca asked. "How are we to use these, Mother?"

"Make the herb into an infusion. Give a cupful at sunrise, noon, sunset and midnight for two full days and the heart should strengthen if it is not too late. After that give him a cup once a day before he breaks his daily fast. The second thing you must do is put the charm under his bed. I've already laid a healing spell on it."

"Thank you, Mother Nut. I'll be back as soon as Father can spare me."

"We'll see," the crone muttered.

Selene bowed to the old woman. "If your medicine is as good as you claim, I will want to know your secrets. If my father survives, I will return to serve you as you wish. Come, Rebecca."

They escaped the hut. Selene held the charm to the light. It was a small clay-fired statue of a mother suckling a child. "The Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus!" she murmured.

"May I see?" Rebecca held out her hand for the brightly painted statue. She turned it over squinting at the details. "I don't think so. See the headdress? This is the Egyptian goddess Isis and her son Horus. They're protective deities."

She handed the charm back to Selene who put it in her pouch.

"I am constantly amazed at how little difference there is between religions." Selene sighed. "It seems the arguments are always over the details. Mary or Isis, Jesus or Horus. Maybe Hypatia is right and names don't matter, just the search for godliness in the life we live."

She looked up at the lowering sun. "Let's get back quickly, Rebecca. I want to try Mother Nut's remedy."

They hurried the way they had come, but Selene sensed a disturbance in the crowds as they passed. The earlier tensions strengthened to dark foreboding. A dancing girl packed up her coins; women and children disappeared from the street. Young men congregated on corners, muttering among themselves.

Rebecca, her forehead creased in a frown said, "I don't like the looks of this." She craned her head to spot someone she knew. "Rachel," she shouted at an older woman herding several toddlers toward a rundown building.

Rachel turned at the sound of her name. "Rebecca? Get off the streets, child. The parabolans are headed this way. The young men intend to fight back." She turned back to her charges, shooing them inside the welcoming shelter of an open door.

"What did she mean?" Selene asked.

"Since the Prefect had the Patriarch's henchman arrested, the parabolans have been even more active." Rebecca laughed bitterly. "Cyril means to have a Christian town one way or the other. He organizes food for the hungry with one hand and sends militant monks to destroy our homes and livelihoods with the other. Our people won't stand idly by and let that happen." Rebecca looked around at the fast emptying streets. "We must get out of here." She grabbed Selene's hand and ran down a side alley.

Selene heard faint shouts. She looked back to see a small mob of men with knives, sticks and even one pitchfork pass the entrance to the alley; their faces grim.

"Where are we going?"

Rebecca peeked around a corner then waved her forward. "I know a way to avoid the main streets, but we'll have to do some climbing."

Selene covered her concern with a grin.

They reached the corner of a two-story building. Rebecca pulled a ladder from a lean-to and Selene helped her push it in place. They pulled their robes between their knees and tucked the hems into their belts, making pantaloons of their tunics and freeing their legs to scramble up the ladder. Potsherds littered the flat roof.

"This way." Rebecca led off. Selene followed closely; wondering what childish escapades provided Rebecca with knowledge of these rooftops. They crossed several buildings, some of which had people on top watching the streets. Boys piled stones at the edge of the roofs. Older people, seeing they were young women, turned back to the street. At one point Selene smelled smoke. Rebecca sniffed the air, judged the direction of the passing breeze from flapping laundry, and led off in another direction.

After several minutes, they approached a high wall enclosing a private compound. Rebecca looked over the side of the roof. "I think it's safe to come down here. The main road to the market is two buildings over." A twisted willow tree grew close to the wall. Rebecca leaned out and grasped a thin branch with both hands. She turned to Selene. "This is something my brothers taught me, but I haven't done it in years. The branch is too thin to hold my weight, but should lower me close enough to the ground to drop without injury. Stand back. When I release it, the branch will whip up. When I reach the ground, I'll get a ladder."

Rebecca jumped away from the roof, the branch flinging her out and down. Just as Selene heard an ominous crack, Rebecca let go and dropped several feet to land awkwardly. She let out a hiss of pain and limped to another of the ubiquitous lean-tos to look for a ladder. The branch hung down, attached by only a thin skin of bark.

"Checking for broken bones. I didn't feel any scraping. Let me wrap it so we can get home." Selene ripped some rags from the old shawl and tightly wrapped the rapidly swelling ankle. "That ought to hold us until we can get some cold cloths on it. Let me help you up."

Selene put her shoulder under the shorter woman's arm and helped her to her feet. Rebecca grunted with pain. "I'm not sure I can make it."

"You need only get to the market. I can hire a litter there." She patted her pouch. "Remember? I came prepared to pay a price. I didn't think it would be service to an Egyptian witch or a run for my life across the rooftops of Alexandria."

Selene unwrapped the bandages and poked gently at the purpling ankle. Rebecca winced. "Put your foot in this water. The coolness should ease the swelling." Rebecca, sitting on the edge of Selene's bed, slid her foot into a bucket of cold water. She sighed in relief.

Selene propped her servant up with cushions and went for a cup of wine with a drop of poppy tincture. When she came back she quietly observed Rebecca's drawn face, pale and pinched with pain. Selene realized how much she regarded the young woman who had cared for her these last several years. Rebecca filled an empty space in Selene's soul, the place reserved for sister and friend.

"Here, this should ease your pain." She held the cup to Rebecca's lips and let her take small sips.

"You should go back to your father, Mistress." Rebecca pushed the cup away. "I can sit here for a while then go to my quarters."

"His body servant tends him. I expect Mother Nut's remedy to take some time to work." Selene extended the cup again. "And there's no need to call me 'Mistress' in private, Rebecca. You've been a better friend than most of the girls my father sees fit to have me associate with, although I haven't been a very good friend to you." She shook her head. "Getting you in trouble with my father, putting us in danger. I would like to do something for you. What would you wish of me? Name it."

"I wish only that you remain as you are. Warm hearted and clear-eyed."

"That's a wish for me, not for you. I could give you money, help your family. Why ask for so little?"

"I have learned to keep my hopes small so they will more likely come true." Rebecca patted Selene's cheek. "In this case, your determination to apprentice with Mother Nut will do more for me than a pile of coins. My religion teaches a life well lived is one spent in service, caring for one's family, engaging in acts of kindness toward the poor and studying the wisdom of God."

"That is little different from Christian teachings."

"Jesus was a Jew, was he not?" Rebecca smiled at Selene's stunned expression. "He was a great teacher, a most learned rabbi. Isn't it fitting the religion carrying his name be based on our best traditions? Besides money is fleeting and God's judgment cannot be bought."

"But with more coin, you could better care for your family or give it away to those poorer." Selene grinned at having caught Rebecca in a philosophical dilemma.

"True, but if you discharged your debt with money, what would be our relationship? Mistress and servant." Rebecca smiled gently. "You called me 'friend.' The obligations of mutual regard bind us close. Accepting money for acts of service or friendship breaks those bonds of affection."

"I would far rather call you 'friend' than 'servant'," Selene said. "Consider my offer in that light. Call upon me at any time for any service."

Rebecca looked up through pain-filled eyes. "Given the times I see ahead, I might redeem your pledge, but not today." She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn and promptly fell asleep.

Selene lifted her friend's foot from the water, dried it and covered her with a blanket. Rebecca's face relaxed in sleep, the pain smoothed from her brow.

Selene gathered bedding to make a pallet and trudged to her father's room. Phillip sat in a chair by the bed, an account book lying open in his lap. As she entered the room he observed her servant's garb and shook his head. Selene had forgotten to change and blushed to her roots.

"I don't even want to know." He rose, stretched and yawned. "At least not tonight."

"I'll stay with Father." She arranged her bedding on the floor. "You get some sleep."

Phillip hugged her on his way out and whispered hoarsely, "Call me if anything changes. I'll post a servant outside the door."

Selene sat for several moments, holding her father's hand. Calistus' unconscious face twitched and flickered with pain. Selene, unaccustomed to personal prayer, bowed her head and bargained with God for the life of her father.

Chapter 22

"Prefect, thank you for your invitation, but we feel no more can be accomplished while armed monks roam the streets." Jesep and the small Jewish contingent rose to leave the conference. "We've suffered their incursions for three months. Until the Patriarch sends them out of the city, or you lock them up, we will continue to defend ourselves."

Cyril sat at the table looking like the proverbial Nile crocodile.

Orestes stood as well. "Please reconsider. Both sides must talk or we can reach no resolution."