Selene of Alexandria

by Justice, Faith L.

  The soldiers' quick action forestalled others from joining the fray, but the mood of the moment turned sour. The crowd milled and muttered on the edge of violence. Suspicious glances, and not a few provocative remarks, flew from group to group. Selene's heart fluttered in fear. Phillip pulled her close and looked around, as if scouting for an escape route. Nicaeus blocked her view as he moved in front to protect her, but she heard a commanding female voice cut through the mutters of the crowd.

  "Peace, my friends and fellow citizens. Let us not spoil this celebration by committing bloodshed over the foolishness of a few youths. We are here in fellowship to welcome our new governor. It would be a poor welcome indeed, if he met with riot and disorder on his first day. My friend Patriarch Theophilus will join me in this plea for peace; will you not, Good Father?"

  Selene peeked around Nicaeus to see Hypatia holding out a hand to the angry Patriarch. A few ragged cheers started on the edge of the crowd. "Heed Hypatia. Peace for the Prefect."

  Theophilus spread his arms to address the crowd.

  Chapter 3

  Orestes, Augustal Prefect and governor of all Egypt, chafed at the slow pace of the procession. He made a striking figure, his military bearing belying his civilian purple and white ceremonial robes. Orestes had toiled for years in provincial towns to reach this appointment. This would be the culmination of his career. If successful, the rewards would be substantial, both in terms of power and esteem. The Praetorian Prefect and Regent Anthemius, his patron at the court, had warned him this appointment would be a difficult one. The city had been quiet for several years, but had a reputation for riot and disputation with imperial authority, particularly as the Patriarch grew in power.

  Orestes nodded and waved from his burnished chariot, handling the four white mares himself. An aide stood at the back tossing coins to the tightly packed crowd; more coins in this poorer section of the city close to the walls, fewer as they neared the agora where the more privileged awaited him. Orestes would have dispensed with the whole celebration, if he had a choice, but the fractious people of Alexandria did not give him one.

  His good friend Abundantius, posted here for several years as the Egyptian military commander, made it clear what the people of the city expected. "One of my predecessors had to accompany a new Patriarch into the city to protect him after he had been tossed out," he had told Orestes. "The good father was humble and most holy, but he was the Emperor's man, not theirs. The new Patriarch came into the city with little fanfare and compounded his error by shortening the investiture ceremony. The good citizens of Alexandria drove him out of the city until he did it right. 'Right' meant a full procession with troops, clergy, and – most important of all – a feast day for the city."

  Orestes laughed at the story, but took Abundantius' point. Alexandria was the third largest city in the Empire and the major supplier of grain for Constantinople as well as the army. Peace in the Empire depended on bread from Egypt. Peace in Alexandria depended on a shrewd mind, an adept hand at the helm, and a lavish welcome complete with free food and drink.

  Orestes watched closely the faces of the people he had been sent to govern. Those faces changed dramatically as he approached the agora, from the dark pinched countenances of the Egyptian peasants flooding the city, looking for work, to the olive-toned descendents of Greek and Roman conquerors. The crowd had a fair sprinkling of black Nubians and an occasional startling blond barbarian, both usually towering over the short people of this region. Alexandria was a crossroads for trade and pilgrims. People from all over the Empire and beyond, traveled its streets and did business in its shops and offices.

  Orestes sensed a change in the crowd's mood as he approached the agora. They looked uncertain, muttering and straining to hear voices that trickled from the open space in front of the triumphal arch. He motioned to the decurion of the mounted escort Abundantius had provided. The grizzled man approached, horse skittering from the chariot wheels.

  The soldier snapped a salute. "Can I be of service, Sir?"

  "Do you know what is going on?"

  "No, Sir, there's been no word."

  "Then carry on, but prepare your unit for trouble."

  "Yes, Sir!" The decurion rode from mount to mount giving orders and watching the crowd carefully.

  Battle senses alert, Orestes rode into the vast square. He saw several people cleaning a pile of rubble from in front of the viewing stand. A diminutive woman in scholar's white and a frail man in full Bishop's regalia harangued the crowd. He immediately recognized the famous Lady Philosopher Hypatia and Patriarch Theophilus. Whatever the problem, they had it under control.

  The crowd roared his name. The roar devolved into a chant: "Orestes. Blessed be your name. Just be your rule." The chant continued as he circled the agora, descended from the chariot and ascended the steps to the podium. His escort took positions ringing the platform. He raised his arms for silence. The crowd gave one final roar and quieted in expectation of the speeches.

  Orestes sat on a cushioned chair left conspicuously vacant. He faced a tedious afternoon and was pleased to see the dignitaries well served with food and wine. Numerous scribes stood ready to record the speeches. Copies would be posted throughout the city tomorrow. A sailcloth canopy gave some relief from the sun, but Orestes soon felt sweat trickling down his back to be absorbed by his wool tunic. He resisted the urge to doff his full toga.

  The Patriarch took the podium first. He welcomed Orestes to the city then conducted a lengthy prayer and homily admonishing him to do God's work. A number of nobles, councilors and elders followed Theophilus, each expressing their gratitude to the Emperor for sending such a wise and just man to rule over them. One by one they pledged their undying support. After about three hours, Orestes asked a servant to escort him to the facilities and excused himself to visit the private privy built under the reviewing stand for the comfort of the dignitaries.

  He returned in time to see Lady Hypatia take the podium. She nodded as he seated himself and launched into her speech. He listened with interest, never having heard a woman speak in a public forum. Her intense form and commanding voice seemed to cast a spell over the crowd. They had been shuffling noisily and talking among themselves, but now they quieted, occasionally laughing at an amusing story or punctuating her speech with shouts of agreement. Anthemius had recommended Orestes seek the Lady Philosopher's advice and now he understood why. Hypatia seemed to have astute insight into the history and workings of the city.

  The rhythms of her speech kept him enthralled until the use of his name startled him. "Orestes, I ask you to lead the city well. Remember a leader is best when the people feel a firm hand helping them along the road, not when they feel a heavy foot upon their necks. Beware of false obedience and acclaim. Listen more than you speak. Honor the people and they will honor you. When your work is done and your aim fulfilled, the people should say, 'We built this," and honor you for letting them. Welcome to our fair city, Orestes. May you – and we – prosper."

  Hypatia bowed to Orestes as the crowd started chanting his name. It was his turn to take the podium and greet the people. He straightened his shoulders and strode to the lectern with his head held high. The chanting filled his chest with pride until he remembered Hypatia's words on false acclaim. These people knew nothing of him except that he represented the Emperor. He would have to prove himself worthy of their regard, as he had with his army commands, through hard work and wise decisions. He felt a momentary hesitation, then let it pass.

  "My fellow citizens," he began in slightly accented Greek, "I greet you on behalf of the Most Pious and Beloved Emperor Theodosius II. In this, the fourth year of his reign, the Roman Emperor of the East extends to you his blessings and assures you of his love and justice." Orestes continued in the same vein, as customary, acknowledging the warm welcome and elaborately praising the city and its people. "The Emperor knows of the great work you do here in Egypt, laboring to feed the Empire…" There were some mutters and dark l
ooks, so he hastened past this topic onto another. "In appreciation the Emperor has increased the bread dole by one-half portion for three months."

  The crowd roared its approval, stamping their feet and clapping loudly while calling his name. When they quieted, he continued. "The Emperor provides a thousand head of cattle for your feasts." More cheers rippled through the crowd as the word spread beyond his voice.

  Orestes noted the lowering sun and the restive condition of the crowd, and concluded, "In light of the advice given me by the wise Lady Hypatia to listen more than speak, I'll conclude by saying what an honor it is to serve my Emperor in this fairest of all cities. Enjoy this feast day, good citizens, and may God bless us all."

  The crowd indulged in one more round of chanting before dispersing to the various celebrations sponsored by the city, professional guilds and the church. Orestes, girding himself for a long night of banquets in his honor, turned to the city and church elders and surrendered to his fate.

  "Which group is this?" Orestes asked Abundantius as they ascended the stairs to their third reception. The dux had volunteered to escort his old friend around the city and make sure Orestes got to the Prefect's mansion in time to bathe before starting his duties early the next morning.

  "The city councilors."

  "How many?"

  "Only about thirty…with their families."

  Orestes groaned. "I'm getting too old for this. My shoulder is bruised from so many vigorous salutations, my ears numb from the incessant requests for an audience, and my face will likely crack if I have to smile one more time." He ran his hand through his close-cropped auburn hair. "I would rather march thirty miles, in full pack, cross-country than spend another day such as this."

  Abundantius roared and pounded Orestes on his reportedly sore shoulder. "You're the one who gave up the military life for civil service, my friend. Now you have to live with it. Come, the councilors wait."

  The City Council building housed the banquet. They ascended the marble steps past a row of columns, into a massive hall. Internal columns held up a vaulted ceiling, painted deep blue with the twelve constellations depicted in gold leaf. Painted plaster walls gave the illusion of looking out into a formal garden. About seventy temporary couches lined the walls, many accommodating two or three occupants. A leather couch strewn with red and purple silk cushions was reserved for him just to the right of the entrance.

  Orestes took his place and waved off the servants bringing food, although he did accept a goblet of cold white wine. The councilors approached him one by one, according to rank and seniority. Abundantius introduced each and provided amusing stories about some as they left earshot.

  "This next one is a solid fellow," Abundantius said in low tones. "Honest. Has a good head on his shoulders and is well respected by his colleagues."

  Orestes looked up. A familiar face grinned at him behind a dignified old councilor's shoulder. "Phillip! Is this your family?"

  Phillip bowed low. "Yes, Honored Prefect. This is my father Calistus, my brother Nicaeus, and my sister Selene."

  Orestes clasped Calistus' arm. "Well met, Sir. Your son has told me much about you. I look forward to knowing you and your family better." The younger brother stepped forward with a bow. "Nicaeus, is it? I hope you've been staying away from the green melons."

  "Yes, Sir." The lad blushed to the tips of his ears and glowered at his brother.

  Orestes' eyes widened at the sight of Selene. Taller than most women by half a head, she had strong features – sweeping eyebrows, a nose just a bit too long, and a generous mouth. Not daintily pretty, but handsome in a way that lasts well into old age. "Phillip, this lovely young lady surely cannot be the madcap child with skinned knees you told me of?"

  Selene curtsied low and flashed a smile as he offered his hand to help her rise. "I see my brother has been most generous with his stories. You must not believe everything he says, Lord Prefect. He is a most notorious teller of tales. He honed his gift through the study of law."

  "Ouch!" Phillip mimed pulling a knife from his heart.

  Calistus frowned at his oldest son and said in frosty tones, "You must forgive my unruly children, Sir. Although it might not be in evidence, they were taught how to behave on formal occasions." All three offspring lost their smiles at their father's rebuke. Phillip's face settled into careful neutrality, only the tightness about the mouth betraying some tensions between father and son.

  Orestes pushed away unwanted memories of his own stern father and said with a smile, "They are a pleasure, good Calistus. In a long day of ceremony, some levity with friends is welcome. And Phillip proved himself a most worthy friend on the journey."

  Calistus' countenance softened at the praise for his son. "I'm pleased Phillip was of service to you."

  "I hope you will be of service, as well. I wish to consult with you on a number of matters."

  "At your convenience, Sir." Calistus bowed.

  As the family retreated to their couches, and before another could approach, Orestes mused, "Phillip proved himself a most capable and resourceful fellow on our journey. I believe I have a special appointment for him."

  Abundantius raised a goblet. "What? When?"

  "That depends on the next few days. I have much more to learn before I can tell what tasks to set him. But I know I will need people I can trust in sensitive positions." Orestes raised a glass of wine. "We'll see what opportunities present themselves."

  After returning the jewelry and fine clothes to their chests, Rebecca cleaned the cosmetics from Selene's face and combed her hair. "What is the new Prefect like, Mistress?"

  "He's magnificent, Rebecca! When my gaze met his, I had trouble breathing. My heart fluttered and I thought it would stop. His eyes are clear green, like gems on an expensive ring. They seemed to see into my very soul." She sighed dramatically. "He's a full head taller than Phillip, with hair that shines like gold streaked with copper. He held my hand." She cradled her right hand against her chest. "Where he touched me, my skin yet burns."

  "Perhaps some cold water would relieve the discomfort." Rebecca combed the curls out of Selene's hair.

  Selene laughed. "To soothe my hand or douse my dreams?"

  "It is not my place to douse your dreams, Mistress. I just caution you not to lose your heart at first glance. How old is the Prefect?"

  "Younger than Father and older than Phillip. He's not decrepit, if that is what you're hinting."

  "No. I just find it strange that a man in the prime of life and in such a powerful position has never married. Surely there were opportunities for an advantageous match over the years?" Rebecca pulled the loose hair back and quickly braided it to keep it from tangling during the night. "Is there anything else you require before you retire, Mistress?"

  "No, Rebecca. Wake me in the morning, no later than the third hour."

  "As you wish, Mistress."

  Selene turned Rebecca's words over in her mind as the servant girl exited. It was indeed strange for a man of Orestes' position to be unmarried. Perhaps he had made a vow to the church or had lost a true love. Or maybe he preferred boys. What was this unwanted feeling Orestes stirred in her? How could she find out the truth about him?

  What difference would it make, if he were unavailable? Why was she even thinking such things when just that morning she vowed she would remain unmarried? The thought shook Selene out of her romantic reverie.

  A sudden restlessness took over her body. Selene picked up the small alabaster oil lamp Rebecca had left burning on her cosmetics table, and left her room. She didn't know where she was going until she found herself before Phillip's door. Light spilled across the threshold. Selene knocked timidly with her foot. "Phillip, are you still awake?"

  She heard a groan and a faint, "Come in." Her brother lay face down on his bed, a male slave massaging his body. Lamplight rippled off corded muscles and flowed across brown skin. A faint scar ran up his backbone from his waist to mid-back. As a boy he had fallen from a wall, scra
ping his back raw. One of Selene's first memories as a toddler was of their mother soothing her brother's pain with a poultice of wet leaves that smelled of mint. Tears stung her eyes. She missed those simpler days, before her mother died and her older brother had gone away to finish his education at the capitol. Phillip turned his bearded face toward her. There were dark circles under his eyes. "What is it, Selene?"

  She collapsed on a bench against the wall, scrubbing her face with both hands. "Nothing. I'm just tired, is all. You look exhausted as well. I'll not keep you up." She rose from the bench to leave.

  "No, don't go." He reached out to stay her. Selene gave a significant glance at the slave putting away the oil. Phillip nodded. Most people treated servants like pieces of furniture, but Selene knew how the silent shadows gossiped in the kitchens and the marketplace. They provided much information to her.

  "Marcus, you may go now. Attend me in the morning," Phillip commanded. The slave bowed as he left the room. Phillip sat up, wrapping a linen sheet around his middle. "Now, little sister, what can I do for you?"

  "Just hold me a while." She sat beside him on his bed and nestled into his side, his arms snuggling her close. They sat quietly. Selene's breathing slowed and her eyes drooped. A sudden shift of her brother's body brought her out of a half doze.

  "You're too old for this type of cuddling, little sister, and I'm too tired." Phillip stifled a yawn.

  "I know. I just came by to see if the servants had cared for you properly and…" she hesitated.

  "And to see if I might arrange for you to see Orestes again?"