Selene of Alexandria

by Justice, Faith L.

  Orestes and his entourage continued down the docks toward the towering stone granaries. The harbormaster explained the intricacies of wheat inspection to insure its quality was "unadulterated, with no admixture of earth or barley."

  As they approached the docks in front of the granaries, a shout went up.

  "There, Master." Demetrius pointed to the incoming barges.

  A dozen men in small round boats attacked the straggling barge with spears and slings. The other eight raced for shore, leaving their companion to its fate. One bargeman was in the water. Two others fended off the coracles with their oars, but there were too many. A pirate climbed over an undefended side, clubbing one bargeman, before the others tipped the marauder into the water.

  "You!" the harbormaster shouted at several lounging sailors, "take The Egret and go to their aid." He pointed to a trim little sailing vessel tied to the dock.

  One of the sailors stood up and spat something dark on the ground before putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head. "'It's too late. By the time I get'er under sail, the pirates will be back in the reeds."

  The harbormaster's face turned red. "There might be survivors, man!"

  The sailor spat again, this time marking a stone bollard.

  Orestes stepped forward and flipped a silver coin at the sailor's feet. "Another one for every live man you bring back. I'll make it gold for a live pirate."

  The sailor picked up the silver coin and tucked it into a pouch. "Yessir." He turned to his crew and cuffed the nearest one on the head. "You heard the man. Git!" They raced to the end of the dock and jumped aboard, loosening the lines from the bollards and raising sail. The crowd watched helplessly, as The Egret sped away.

  The pirates grappled the barge, pulling it toward tall reeds screening the bank.

  "If the pirates make it to the reeds, they will disappear into the hidden by-ways. The barge will be lost, its cargo disappearing into the villages on the shores," the harbormaster explained. "My apologies, Augustal Prefect. I've asked for shore patrols, but the council has yet to hear my petition."

  "Do you lose many ships?"

  "More as the season waxes. Mother Nile was not generous last year and the harvest thin. There is hunger in the hinterland. Desperate men do desperate deeds." He bowed his head as if expecting a blow for his honesty.

  "I see." Orestes gazed out at the concluding drama. The pirates made the reeds just ahead of The Egret. The crew tacked back and forth sending the odd arrow into the waving reeds, but to no avail. They stopped their useless pursuit to pull bodies from the water.

  Orestes detached a pouch from his belt and handed it to the harbormaster. "See that this purse goes to the families of the lost men. I'll take up your petition with the council."

  "Thank you, Excellency. Your help and generosity is much appreciated."

  "We will postpone our tour of your fine facilities." Orestes nodded toward the returning ship. "You have other duties to attend to." He spoke briefly to Demetrius who departed with some haste. Orestes then made his roundabout way home via the agora dropping off members of his entourage as he went.

  Demetrius and Phillip waited for Orestes in his private sitting room. Phillip's bearded face split into a dazzling smile at the sight of his traveling companion, and he rose. They clasped shoulders, thumping each other on the back. "Well met, my friend! How go your first days?"

  Orestes motioned him to sit and took a comfortable couch next to a cold brazier. "It is much as I expected – too many people to remember and too few I can trust. Thank you for coming at my summons, Phillip."

  "It is my pleasure to serve." His friend shrugged. "How can I be of assistance?"

  Demetrius left, presumably to fetch refreshments. Orestes suddenly became aware of the emptiness of his stomach. It had been a long day, with little sustenance.

  "I saw something disturbing at Mareotis harbor today." Orestes described the pirating incident. By the end of his tale, Demetrius returned with servants bearing platters of steamed fish wrapped in grape leaves, grains and vegetables cooked with a rare yellow spice from India, fresh breads of a light delicate brown sprinkled with sesame seeds, and a generous flagon of strong red wine.

  "Join me, Phillip. The cook will be most disappointed if I return this savory food barely eaten."

  "My pleasure." Phillip's eyes sparkled at the delicious smells emanating from the various platters.

  Demetrius sent the others away and served the food. Orestes raised a spoonful of grains and vegetables; the spicy scent tickled his nose. He hoped the cook had not put too much yellow powder in the dish. The last time he had tasted this spice, the food left a fiery taste that no amount of water seemed to quench. He tasted the grains and chewed with satisfaction.

  "I asked the cook for simple fare." Orestes admitted, "I'm glad he ignored me. Try the grains, they are quite good."

  Phillip tucked into his food. After many compliments, he returned to their previous topic. "I've also seen disturbing things."

  "Such as?"

  "On the trip home, people clogged the road. Not merchants or pilgrims, but whole families with bundles on their backs, heading for the cities. I've traveled these roads to visit my father's estates. I have never seen such sights. There must be famine in the land." Phillip paused, thinking. "And the brigands we encountered! The countryside used to be safe for unarmed pilgrims. Now all must go armed or escorted."

  Phillip stared into his cup, swirling the wine into a miniature whirlpool. "My friends tell me the mood in the inns is sour and black, as if an evil spirit sucked all joy from life. Old women on the street cry doom, young women and men openly sell their bodies. I'm afraid your predecessor did little to keep such sights confined to the poorer neighborhoods."

  "I've found little to impress me about my predecessor's practices. He seems to have let the church keep the peace and used the money allocated for that function for his own comfort. One of my first tasks is to build up the guards. I will call on General Abundantius for military troops till that is accomplished. How do you think the city nobles will react?"

  "To troops on the streets? As long as they can do business as usual, they will care little." Phillip finished his wine and set the empty cup on a low table. "They will probably welcome the additional security."

  "And the council? I will need their support."

  They're a pricklier bunch." Phillip scratched at his bearded jaw. "I don't know. My father would be a better judge of that."

  "I would like to meet your father and talk with him at greater length. Do you think you might return the favor of this meal and invite me to your home?"

  "Consider it done." Phillip smiled. "Selene will be very pleased."

  "Your sister?" Orestes was startled.

  "You made quite an impression on Selene at the reception. She'll be mooning about you for weeks, along with every other eligible maiden in Alexandria. You may have to arrange a marriage to escape constant pursuit."

  "I shall never marry." A shadow of pain flitted across Orestes' face. "I enjoy the company of women from time to time, but have little patience for their intrigues and wiles. The court in Constantinople overflows with the plots of women, priests and eunuchs. The Emperor's sister Pulcheria is chief among them."

  "She's a year younger than Selene! What plots could a girl concoct?"

  "Children grow up fast in the royal palace or they sometimes do not grow up at all." Phillip looked thoughtful as Demetrius poured him a second cup of wine. Orestes commented, "Selene did not strike me as the type to plot. She seemed altogether too straightforward and innocent."

  "Selene was always headstrong, but never devious." Phillip shrugged. "But I've been away three years. Much has changed – in my family and in the city." He sipped his wine pensively. "I fear we have troubled times ahead and would do all in my power to avert it. How may I be of service, other than arranging dinners?"

  "My immediate needs are for information. I need people who can walk in all parts of the c
ity and report to me what they hear and see. Can you do this?"

  "It seems a noble cause, and more intriguing than running my father's estates."

  "This assignment is not without its dangers, my friend. Think carefully before you decide. I have no wish to impose on our friendship in this way."

  "It is no imposition." Phillip gave him a crooked smile. "I think I will enjoy such work."

  "Who else might we enroll in our intelligence gathering?"

  "I know some trustworthy fellows who would be glad to do the Empire a service."

  Orestes raised his cup in a salute. "Good. I've already given some thought to your first assignment."

  Phillip leaned forward as Demetrius cleared the platters.

  Chapter 5

  Selene hurried down the broad avenue from Honoria's house. She had stayed far too long, but they had had little time together of late and there was much to speak of. Rebecca had finally sent Nicaeus to fetch her saying she was urgently needed at home. Nicaeus seemed annoyed at his task and answered her questions with grunts leaving her to speculate on the nature of the urgency. He at least told her no one was ill or dying.

  She tossed her outer robe to a servant waiting in the vestibule and immediately headed for the kitchen at the back of the house. She entered the room to the sound of people shouting and pottery shattering. Slaves and free servants rushed from one room to the next carrying pots of water, baskets of vegetables and live fowl. The savory smell of baking bread conflicted with that of briny fish. A corpulent cook turned suddenly from a table where she was cutting cubes of meat and collided with a skinny servant carrying a basket of eels. The eels cascaded across the tiled floor to Selene's feet. One had the temerity to snap at her dusty toes. At least they were fresh.

  The cook and the servant started shouting at one another.

  The burdens of being the lady of the house settled heavily on Selene's shoulders. She longed for the freedom of her runs on the beach, but this was her responsibility. She picked up a wooden spoon, banged it on a copper cauldron sending a hollow boom throughout the room that stunned the panicked servants to silence.

  "You, Cook," she pointed the spoon at the red-faced servant, "tell me what is happening."

  "I turned around and this clumsy son of a three-legged camel dropped a basket of eels…"

  "What?" the skinny man protested. "If this female hippo didn't take up the room of five people, I could have easily…"

  Selene banged on the copper cauldron again. "Quiet! I don't give a fig about the eels. I want to know why you are all in such a panic."

  Rebecca entered the kitchen on the heels of Selene's tirade. Taking in the disorder, she said, "Your esteemed father sent word he was bringing guests for the evening meal and asked that you oversee the preparations. With you gone, we were trying to arrange the evening ourselves, but," she paused, shrugging her shoulders, "you know the old saying about too many generals."

  Momentary panic seized Selene followed by a rush of gratitude for the work the servants had already done. She had become more adept at this type of entertaining since her mother died, but she still relied heavily on Rebecca and the others to see to the details. "How soon will they be here and how many are we to prepare for?"

  "Shortly after sundown. Your father is bringing the Prefect and Archdeacon Timothy to the evening meal. Phillip, Nicaeus and you are also to be in attendance."

  "Orestes? The Prefect is coming tonight?" Selene squeaked, her panic returning.

  Rebecca held her gaze, saying in a calm voice, "Six is an auspicious number. I'm sure we can avoid disappointing your father's honored guests."

  Taking a deep breath, Selene girded for battle. "Of course. We have Father's good name to maintain. Rebecca, take two servants to the main quarters and see that the vestibule and dining area are in order. It wouldn't do for guests to stumble over loose tiles or foul their garments with dust. When you have set them their tasks, meet me in my quarters. I must prepare as well. Nicaeus?" Her brother stopped his surreptitious progress through the back door. "Would you see what wines we have available?"

  He bowed low. "Of course. Anything else, Mistress of the House?"

  She threw an over-ripe kumquat, which he ducked. "No, dear brother, just check the wine and get yourself cleaned up." She turned back to the servants with a sense of purpose. "Cook, what do you have in mind for the menu tonight?"

  Selene watched in the mirror as Rebecca tucked in the last curl and secured it with a jeweled comb. She stood and Rebecca tied a gilded cord around her wine-red gown so as to best show off Selene's slim figure. Rebecca always knew the perfect decorative touch that elevated a good presentation to an exquisite one whether it was clothes, food or statuary. Selene turned for a last inspection. Rebecca nodded her approval just as someone knocked at the door.

  "It's Nicaeus. Father approaches. Are you ready?"

  "Yes." Selene opened the door and linked arms with her brother. She looked over her shoulder at Rebecca. "Go to the kitchen and make sure all is ready. If there are problems, come get me."

  Rebecca gave her a short bow. "Of course, Mistress."

  Selene and Nicaeus strolled out of the cramped warren of bedrooms on the top floor and descended a broad marble staircase into the spacious public rooms. Most homes of the rich celebrated open communal space and theirs was no exception. Built in a rectangle with blank walls facing the street, colonnaded public rooms on the ground floor opened onto a central courtyard. The rooms held little furniture, but the floors and walls sported lavish murals of country scenes and colorful mosaics commemorating Greek and Egyptian legends.

  Selene checked the arrangements in the courtyard garden. Aromatic torches kept insects at bay. Water trickled from a fountain surrounded by green shrubs. In the triclinium, where they took their meals, green and red striped cushions adorned the couches. Someone – Selene assumed Rebecca – had arranged a spray of lilies to complement one of her father's favorite fishing scenes on the wall. Oil lamps depending from a chandelier shed a soft glow, creating an air of intimacy appropriate for discourse.

  Nicaeus and Selene arrived in the vestibule to see the impressive figure of the Prefect conducting an animated conversation with their father. Archdeacon Timothy, a barrel-chested man who seemed totally unencumbered by a shriveled left leg, thumped Phillip on the back as the latter finished a story.

  Selene made a deep curtsy.

  "Lady Selene." Orestes took her hand and raised her to her feet. "It is good of you to receive me on such short notice."

  When her eyes met his cool green gaze, she stopped breathing. She felt a blush rising and ducked her head, unable to meet the eyes that seemed to see into her soul. "Th-thank you, sir. Welcome to my father's house." She retrieved her hand and turned to the rest of the party. "Archdeacon Timothy, it's so good to see you again. I'm pleased to welcome you to my father's house." She bowed slightly to her father. "I hope the preparations are to your satisfaction, Sir. Shall we repair to the courtyard?"

  Her father's eyes glowed with pride. "I'm sure all will be perfect, my child." He took her arm and gestured to the rest of the party to proceed. "Please, let's see what miracle Selene has wrought."

  Cook did well, Selene thought as she surveyed the remains of the feast. The lamb spiced with cardamom and the marinated palm hearts were particularly fine. The bones of the fowl stuffed with liver and onions littered platters. She had not tried the eels, but the men seemed to enjoy them. She would have to remember to commend Cook for her efforts. Selene reclined on her couch, sipping watered wine, listening to Orestes and Phillip regale the dinner party with stories of adventure and piracy.

  They seemed easy with each other and her father watched Phillip with barely concealed surprise. But then, her brother always seemed to mix well in whatever company he found himself – high or low. It was the low company which sparked Calistus' stern disapproval.

  The conversation turned to council business – increasing disorder in the city and the need for
more guards – as the servants removed the platters. The house staff looked fine in their matching livery of white with a deep blue stripe on their tunics. Rebecca, in a fresh robe and neatly dressed hair, exchanged a few pleasantries with Phillip then continued to carry a bowl of rose-scented water and linen towels to each guest to wash their hands.

  Another servant stood ready to serve candied figs and dates stuffed with nuts. Selene gave him a hand signal to offer the treats to the guests. Orestes chose one of each and nibbled in a peculiarly dainty manner. Selene noted with annoyance that Nicaeus took a more than generous share. She waved the servant past her own plate to make sure there were plenty for the others. Concentrating on the logistics of the meal, the sound of her name took Selene by surprise.

  "Selene, I understand you are quite an athlete." Orestes smiled at her. His slightly parted lips revealed a crooked front tooth. Her breath caught in her chest. She opened her mouth to reply.

  "She's faster than anyone I've seen, especially over long distances," Nicaeus broke in. "You should see her leap a wash or take a hill. The gazelles can't even keep up with her. She's good with a javelin and sling as well, but I can outshoot her with a bow."

  Selene felt the heat rising in her face and was grateful for the lamp's flickering shadows. The uncertain light also hid the murderous glance she sent her brother, but did nothing to leach the warning tone from her words. "Nicaeus, I'm sure our honored guest doesn't want to hear about me."

  "On the contrary, I admire women who can take care of themselves. The native women in Britannica are superb athletes. Many are warriors and leaders of warriors more feared by the Roman troops than the Celtic men. My grandmother was reputed to have led a chariot charge in one of the last battles beyond Hadrian's Wall only one month before giving birth to my mother."