by Albert Noyer
"Perhaps, Mistress."
Getorius swirled a chunk of bread in olive oil. "Brisios, you didn't mention Zoë to me when we climbed to the acropolis. She seems nice."
"Yes," he quickly agreed. "Very nice."
Maria dabbed at her lips as she stood up. "Come, Melodia. We must find that deaconess about financing the church. Tranquillus has gone to the embalmer about Droseria's funeral. Disgraceful! That Britto person should have contacted us by now."
Melodia touched Arcadia's arm. "And we'll let you two eat without being bored by our chatter."
When they were out of hearing, Getorius confided, "By now the presbyter discovered that Britto is dead."
Arcadia speculated, "Unless his assistant moved the coffin this morning."
"We need to talk with Rufinus. When I went down to find Lydia, I saw two embalmers in a basement room. Both were Egyptian."
"Egyptian? Could they be a connection to the Serapion?"
"In what way?" he asked, shelling an egg for her. "The temple is abandoned."
"As far as we know. They might have discovered that Epiphania is hiding there."
Getorius sniffed the egg and handed it to his wife. "It's fresh. We need to do several things. Confront Apollonios about what we saw at the Morphion and talk to Herakles. The body of Hermias should be recovered before wolves further mutilate it."
"I could look in on Epiphania, while you went to the Asklepion."
"Arcadia, I admit that was a competent procedure, but."
"Husband, she's my patient."
Don't argue with her and start unpleasantness. "You're not eating much."
"Thank you for the egg."
Getorius waited until she took a bite. "Fine, go visit Epiphania. I'll have Nysus summon a carriage to take you while I'm with the Great Physician. Try to be back by mid-morning."
"I will." She reached across to touch his hand. "Thank you for trusting me with Epiphania."
"Finish your breakfast."
* * *
The Poseidon was east of the Asklepion. Getorius favored his ankle as he followed a street that passed the necropolis and intersected with a smaller avenue. It branched to the right, toward the destroyed basilica. A sign on the cemetery wall, in Greek and Latin, identifies the Via Askelpion. On the side leading to the basilica, Via Sancta Thecla was painted over illegible letters of the street's former Greek name. This may be the Eastern Empire, but Latin is still very much in the language.
Getorius continued under an arch standing among the fallen stones of Pergamum's wall. At the gate to Apollonios's villa, he rang the entrance bell. A moment later the gaunt face of Aristides appeared behind the barred window.
Getorius told him, "I wish to see the physician. It's important."
"Apollonios is not here."
"Then I should talk to you about something that I found out."
Aristides hesitated a moment before unlatching the portal. "We can go into the Physician's study."
As he walked, Getorius studied the man. Long, thin face, eyes red-rimmed, yet hard as black agate. Receding hairline, skimpy beard. He looks too old to be an assistant priest, but perhaps he's being groomed to take Apollonios's place.
The room where Getorius first met the Physician looked the same, but he noticed Herakles's strongbox on a side table. If Arcadia is correct and it contains opion,
Apollonios should have kept it out of sight. Still, he didn't expect my visit. He nodded his head toward the chest. "Aristides, I see that our guide has been here."
"Herakles obtains medicines for the Physician."
"So they both told me. I'll not parry swords with you, Aristides. I was on the second level of your sanitarium last night. What I saw, the way you're using opion, defies medical ethics."
"You entered the Morphion?" Aristides's agate eyes narrowed as his brows curled into a frown. "This is forbidden except to Asklepiads."
"You're abusing the narcotic. A man died in my arms, so explain what I saw."
Aristides recovered with a forced smile. "Surgeon, you have much to learn about our healing methods. Sit over there."
Getorius went to a chair, noticing that the priest seated himself behind Apollonios's desk. Trying out his master's sandals, is he?
"The Morphion is a haven," Aristides explained in a testy voice. "The incurably ill are consoled with papaver, just as water from the river Lethe soothed ancient minds."
"I'm not talking about a mythical forgetfulness. Opion is addictive. The narcotic creates a lethargic state, and eventually destroys the patient."
The priest ignored his reprimand. "Apollonios diagnosed the body of that oldster who died as consumed by untreatable tumors. Is it not better that his life ended in painless bliss?"
"Apollonios told me he did not admit pregnant women or patients certain to die." When Aristides kept silent, Getorius asked, "Where is the body of Basina Bobo now?"
"Her body?" Startled by the unexpected question, he stammered, "We have a necropolis behind the Asklepion's west wall."
"What of the woman's belongings? Her tunic and purse, or the jewelry she wore that evening? She had dressed herself quite well to see Apollonios."
Aristides's smooth reply indicated that he had been questioned many time before. "Those who die without kin improve the lives of the city's poor. With the woman's husband murdered by her slave, the Physician distributed her belongings. Do you Christians not do the same for the poor?"
"Deacons perform that duty." So Aristides doesn't know about Flavius and Hermias, or pretends not to. "You're saying Basina already is buried?"
"I'm certain of it. She died before dawn on October seventh."
To satisfy a nascent suspicion, Getorius asked, "Was her body sent to Britto?"
"Britto? No, not the gross woman's. We have our own mortuary."
The answer I expected. Now a second question. "Have you made progress in finding the body of Flavius?"
"Unfortunately not, poor man. The evening he arrived I counseled him in his dormitory."
"You talked to Flavius? About what?"
"Surgeon, his wife was quite abusive. Surely, you noticed?"
"I did."
"I suggested he follow the path of a stoic."
"Acceptance? Do you know anything more about the burning of Epiphania's church or her death?"
"Surgeon, monks here oppose priestly roles for women, yet pagans have always valued female ministrations. Despite Bishop Memnon's opposition, Artemis's priestesses still serve in her temple at Ephesos. Perhaps you should question The Sleepless Ones." Aristides abruptly stood, as if he had lost patience with the questions. "I must tend to patients now. I will tell the Physician of your visit."
"I must speak to him."
"Indeed, Surgeon. I will send you word of his return."
Outside, Getorius wondered if his time had been worth the effort. I found out little that was new other than that Aristides is a practiced liar or actually knows nothing about the death of Hermias or where Flavius is. His explanation of the Morphion even made some sense, and he's suggesting that Christians destroyed a church. He turned toward the Sacred Way where pilgrims approached the Asklepion barefoot.
Walkways in the block nearest the shrine were without vendor booths. A few stretcher-bearers lounged against pillars, waiting to carry in bed-ridden patients who were allowed entry. Pilgrim groups walked silently in the center of the paved roadway, holding their footwear in one hand and votive offerings in the other.
The Via Sancta Theklae separated the last portico from the ones where vendors sold their wares. Getorius crossed the street and strolled along the line of booths, marveling at a myriad of votive images that were tangible hopes for an expected cure. Among statuettes of Asklepios, images of the bull-god Serapis stood alongside Isis figurines and Christian saints.
After one vendor eyed Getorius's tunic, he asked in poor Latin, "Pilgrim, who you want? Isis, Osiris? Isis very good, she raise Osiris from dead."
"These are pagan. I
didn't realize Egyptian gods still had a following."
"Big cult one time at Pergamum. You want Christian statue? My brother, three booth down have many."
A heavily bearded vendor at the next table had been listening. "You, Latin man," he called out. "Look. Many fine clothings, jewelries. Leather purse cheap for you." He snatched up a tunic and held it in front of himself. "See here. You have mother perhaps? Make happy. Give her this."
The woolen garment with distinctive Celtic embroidery and gold threadwork around the neck and sleeves looked familiar. My God, Basina Bobo wore that tunic to the Asklepion on the evening Herakles took her there! "Where did you get that?" he asked the merchant.
"Ah, Latin man, did I say it was new? Very nice, washed special for you."
Getorius looked at other items the vendor sold. Rather than votive images, he displayed used merchandise. Purses and sandals showed considerable wear. On recognizing the multi-colored glass earrings that Basina had worn, he picked them up.
Noting his new interest, the vendor laid down the tunic. "You have wedding ring, Latin man. Those ear jewelry very fine for wife."
Getorius held up the pair. "How, exactly, did you get these?"
A glare implying he had been insulted replaced the merchant's affected grin. His face flushed to dark mahogany as his hand stealthily moved to the hilt of a dagger. "Not stolen, Barbaroma."
"I didn't say they were."
He relaxed his dagger hand. "Not new."
"I see that. Where did you buy the earrings?"
Sensing a sale, he beckoned Getorius closer and whispered, "Shrine priest sell things of sick who die at Asklepion. Make very good bargains for you."
Sell? Aristides said the belongings of deceased patients were given to the poor, but Apollonios is incapacitating oldsters in his Morphion, stealing what they own, and selling the items here.
"You buy?"
"What? Oh. How much?"
"Very good work. Color glass best quality. Pure gold wire."
"Half a siliqua," Getorius offered.
"With tunic, one half western solidus."
"Only the earrings."
He held up a calfskin money holder. "Fine purse too, all for third of gold piece."
"The earrings." Getorius extended the silver coin, already overly generous.
The man palmed the money, then snatched up the tunic again to accost a passing heavy-set woman in rapid Greek.
Shaken at what he discovered, Getorius slipped the jewelry into his purse, left the shaded walkway, and turned in the direction of the Poseidon. He squinted up at the morning sun and estimated he had been gone an hour. Arcadia should return soon.
Walking back, he reflected, Aristides lied about what the Physician did with the belongings of those who die at the shrine. I still haven't talked to Herakles. Can I trust him now? Zoë had no use for the guide and it's obvious from that strongbox at the villa that he's supplying Apollonios with untaxed narcotics. Herakles brings pilgrims to the shrine, so I wouldn't be surprised if he gets a share in whatever of theirs is sold. Getorius watched a lame oldster pull himself along on crutches. Another candidate for the Morphion. That mystery is solved, but the knot still tied is how Flavius knew that Epiphania was at the Serapion.
At the Poseidon, Brisios was helping Zoë clear the dining room of breakfast dishes, laughing with her. Getorius beckoned him into the garden.
"Has my wife returned yet?"
"No, Surgeon."
"Good, you're remembering not to call me Master. Is Herakles here?"
"I haven't seen him."
"I'll be here in the garden. Let me know if you notice either of them come back."
Getorius went to his bedroom to bring down the scroll of Rhesus. He re-read about the Thracian king, when Arcadia came through the atrium and hurried toward him. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You look worried. Is Epiphania worse?"
"Getorius, she's gone."
"Dead? It's too soon for that."
"You don't understand. I mean she isn't at the Serapion. No one is...Lydia...those deaconesses. Even the animals weren't in their pens."
"How did you get in to find out?"
Arcadia slumped on a chair at the table. "Andros was in the courtyard. I thought that his signing gestures meant I couldn't enter, and then I realized he was telling me that no one was there."
"Where did the women go?"
"I made Andros understand that Epiphania was badly injured and that I'd come to help her. At that and a gold tremissis he pointed up to the acropolis."
"What? In her condition she was carried to the old Pergamene site? The woman could die if strain is put on her sutures and they separate. Why would she even leave the Serapion?"
"It must have something to do with Epiphania wanting people to believe she was dead. What did you find out from Apollonios and Herakles?"
"Nothing. Our guide still isn't here, and Apollonios wasn't at the Asklepion."
Arcadia caught at her husband's arm. "I think there's a connection among those two and Epiphania that we should know about."
"Especially the presbytera. If she's gambling on those sutures not rupturing, she may have lost even her slim chance to live."
CHAPTER XVII
"We must find her," Arcadia emphasized, "yet where on the acropolis should we begin searching?"
"From what I saw," Getorius recalled, "the mount is a warren of homes and temples, most of them ruins. There are hundreds of places to hide. Who could we ask?"
After a moment of thought, Arcadia bolted up. "I may have an idea about that. While I get Droseria's letter from our room, find Brisios and have him bring Zoë here."
The three were waiting when Arcadia returned. Before she could tell them why she brought the letter, Getorius showed her a folded garment. "Zoë gave me this tunic that Tranquillus asked to be washed. The fuller charged another half-follis because he spent more time cleaning the garment."
"So? The presbyter has been traveling longer than we have. He and the widows went to the Holy Land."
"Arcadia, there was dried gypsum on the hem fibers."
"Tranquillus went with us at Britto's to anoint that woman. Wet plaster was on the floor."
"Perhaps." Getorius led his wife away from the others to the garden's persimmon
tree. "You haven't forgotten that we found Britto dead, encased in plaster?"
"Surely you don't suspect the presbyter?"
"Rufinus has to be involved, yet what do we really know about Tranquillus? A Celt, as I recall. Unpredictable."
"Husband, you're also Celtic. Are you suggesting that Tranquillus murdered the embalmer? What chance would he have? What reason?"
"Britto knew that Epiphania wasn't dead."
"And from what I saw, too drunk to tell anyone who might believe him. Besides, Tranquillus didn't know that wasn't Epiphania in the coffin."
He corrected her, "He did know, Arcadia. You blurted it out to him on the stairs."
"I remember now. And Tranquillus didn't seem that surprised to find that she was ordained. Could he have known ahead of time?"
"We at least should question him." Getorius beckoned to Zoë in the dining room. "Has the presbyter returned? He went to Britto's to arrange Droseria's funeral."
"No, Surgeon. Neither has your guide."
Arcadia asked, "Zoë, what do you know about Britto?"
"He works on the dead. As children, that was enough to frighten us, even without that red beard of his. We mocked him as Lupus Rufus, 'Red Wolf'."
Getorius was impatient at her questions. "Arcadia, did you want to read Droseria's letter to me?"
"Something in it." After reading through the text, Arcadia looked up at her husband. "It's not here. Droseria said that she read in the Book of Revelation what the angel wrote to Christians in Pergamum, but I thought there was something else. Zoë, do you know the city?"
"I was a child when Mother and I were sold to a master here."
"Have you gone up to the acropolis?"
Getorius asked, "What do you mean 'unsafe'?"
"The building ruins are dangerous. Mother tried to frighten us away by warning that the evil Satan that Christians believed in lived there."
"Satan, that's it!" Arcadia exclaimed. "During that ride to the Serapion, Lydia read something about a throne of Satan. I thought it allegorical, yet she mentioned a temple on the acropolis. Do you know what that might be Zoë?"
"Oldsters refer to an altar of Zeus that way."
Arcadia speculated, "Based on that reading, Epiphania could have gone there. Where is the temple...this altar?"
"In the upper city, past the ruins of the middle baths. When I was older, a friend and I went up there one time out of curiosity."
Getorius asked, "Is it anywhere near the theater and Trajan's temple?"
Zoë frowned and shook her head. "I'm not sure. I don't recall."
"About how far in all from here?"
"Probably over two miles. The last mile is a hard climb."
Arcadia asked, "What is the quickest way to get up there?"
"Domina, do you ride horses?"
"Yes," Getorius answered for his wife. "Good, Zoë. Can the Poseidon's owner arrange for us to rent mounts?"
"Nysus has done so before."
"Since Herakles isn't here, will you take us to that temple?"
Zoë shook her head. "Surgeon, first I must supervise the noon meal."
"We have no time to lose."
"Surgeon," she insisted. "I must."
"Very well. One other thing I meant to ask. Pergamum must have an urban prefect, a magistrate who governs the city?"
"That would be Niketas."
"Good. Regardless of what Apollonios said, I should report the Asklepion deaths to this Niketas."
Zöe scoffed, "Why hasn't the Great Physician done so himself? Niketas is his brother."
"Brother? Then that explains why Apollonios thought he could conceal the murder of Basina and avoid scandal."
Zoë glanced toward Kleis, a young kitchen helper motioning from the doorway. "I'm needed in there."
"Fine, let's plan on leaving in an hour or so." Getorius turned to Brisios. "Tell Nysus that I want two sturdy horses ready by then. You'll ride one with Zoë, and Arcadia can double with me." After watching him leave, Getorius told his wife, "I couldn't eat anything. While we're waiting, let's walk to Britto's. We may run into Tranquillus, and I'd like to question Rufinus about what he knows."