When the last supplicant had been ushered away by the Patriarch's attendants, Orestes made his presence known.
"Lord Prefect." Cyril stayed seated in his Bishop's chair. "I'm pleased you could attend me. I received your letter asking for an audience."
"Patriarch." Orestes was obliged to stand in the Patriarch's presence, unless bade to sit. Heat began to flush up Orestes' neck at the lack of an invitation to do so. "Perhaps we could conduct our business in a less public setting."
Cyril looked around as if noticing for the first time the dozens of clerks, deacons and other attendants. "Of course." He rose from his chair. "Join me in my sitting room."
Orestes left his own entourage of guards in the inner courtyard, but signaled Demetrius to attend him in the Patriarch's chambers. They left the vast receiving hall and climbed narrow steps to the Patriarch's private rooms. Cyril had removed the heavy draperies after Theophilus' death, but changed little else. The furniture, carpets and appointments exuded lushness out of keeping with the austere demeanor of the Patriarch. In the privacy of this room, Cyril ushered Orestes to a chair and gestured to a servant for refreshments. Demetrius stood at his master's shoulder to serve him.
"How may I be of service, Lord Prefect?" Cyril sat, elbows on the chair arms, fingertips touching in a peak.
"It is a matter most urgent. The Origenists have already left the city. Bishop Theopemptus of the Novatians has appealed to me for protection. It seems that presbyters under your orders have seized his churches and looted the congregational plate. His sect follows a strict code of asceticism, not unlike the desert monasteries in which you studied. What possible objection do you have to their existence?"
"'Looted' is a harsh word. A recent Imperial edict allows Bishops to take measures against schismatics, including confiscating buildings and their contents."
"That edict named sanctions against the Donatist sect," Orestes countered.
"Of course." Cyril smiled. "The Novatians persist in the Donatist error that the priest must be pure to administer the sacraments. My brother Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, demolished that philosophy in his most recent writings. Pope Innocent of Rome has started the purge of Novatians from his domain. I only follow in the Holy Father's footsteps."
Orestes knew defeat when confronted with it. It left the taste of ashes in his mouth which the dry red wine the servant brought could not remove. The Origenists and Novatians had sided with Archdeacon Timothy in the fight for the succession. Cyril was purging the city of his political enemies under the guise of consolidation and with the sanction of the Emperor and the Pope.
Orestes set the goblet of wine on a wooden stand. "Then we have nothing to speak of, Patriarch. I had hoped for a more charitable outcome."
"What could be more charitable than saving those poor people from the error of their ways?" Cyril looked genuinely surprised. "They will be welcomed in our churches. They lose nothing but the harsh requirements of their masters. Can you not see the hardship their Bishop's belief wreaked on his congregations? The potential for schism and recrimination?" Cyril shook his head vehemently. "That can not be allowed."
Unconvinced of the purity of Cyril's motives, Orestes rose and bowed. "My mission here is finished. Good day to you, Patriarch."
"We still have much we can discuss, Prefect. Your attendance at church services, the abomination of the mimes and entertainers. These require your attention. Leave the internal affairs of the church to me and attend those in your domain."
Stung by Cyril's censuring tone, Orestes said, "I'll take it under advisement, Patriarch," spun on his heel and left, Demetrius trailing.
In the street, Orestes said ruefully to Demetrius, "Cyril made sure I knew my place."
"The Patriarch was within his rights concerning the other churches."
"I know. I hoped to use his youth and inexperience to my advantage." Orestes shook his head. "I won't underestimate him again."
"His youth and inexperience prompted him to treat you in such a manner. Give him time to grow into his role." Demetrius opened the door to the street. "I'm sure you two will be able to work out an amicable relationship."
"I hope so, for Alexandria's sake."
Chapter 18
"Selene! Wait for me."
Selene looked around the crowd of students for the source of the familiar voice. She spotted Antonius weaving down the side of a colonnade, and waited for him.
"I see your father gave up on the chaperones." Antonius grinned at her. He topped her by a couple of inches, now that he had reached his full height.
"Never!" She laughed. "The Prefect has kept the peace the last few months so, after Nicaeus left for the army, Father agreed to let me take Rebecca. She goes to the market or visits her family while I go to classes."
"It's been a year since you proposed your crazy scheme. Are you happy, Selene?" He led her by the hand to a nook shaded by a large date tree, where they settled on a stone bench.
"More than I ever thought possible, Antonius. I am learning so much! Auxentius says I have learned all I can from the texts without some experience. He recommends I start apprenticing. Haroun grumbles that I'm not ready, while arranging for me to assist the surgeons at the city charity ward. It's more than I ever dreamed." Selene's face settled into a radiant smile. "And you, my friend? Are you happy? You wed Honoria in two weeks. I know she is ecstatic."
"Honoria is a fine girl, but her major asset is the dowry she brings." Antonius' head drooped as he stared at his clenched fists resting in his lap. "Father is in dire straits and this is one way to stave off financial ruin – for a while."
"I'm so sorry." Selene clutched his arm. "Your father just sponsored the new statue of the emperor. I thought his money troubles were over."
"He puts on a brave front. Many of the old families are in similar difficulties. Taxes go up, expectations for city improvements continue, while crops fail."
Selene nodded. "Father complains that many prosperous merchants are declining the honor of becoming a civitas. The obligations of city, church and empire are just too burdensome."
"Honoria's father is one of those shrewd enough to hold on to his wealth while marrying into nobility," Antonius said bitterly.
"But you're well educated and of an old family. Surely there will be a position for you. You don't have to marry Honoria if it makes you so unhappy."
"With my future father-in-law's money and influence, I can acquire a function in the city government. My father has his good name, but little else. Without a rich patron, my prospects are slim. Nicaeus once joked that I could join the army or the hermits. Neither appeals to me. I have no wish to travel beyond this city for either war or peace."
"My dear friend, I would give anything to make this right." Selene rested her head on his shoulder as she wrestled with divided loyalties. "Can't you learn to care for Honoria? She is a sweet and loyal person and loves you very much."
"It's impossible," Antonius whispered.
Selene sighed. "Then I will speak to Phillip. He is much in Orestes' company. They can find a place for you. If not here, possibly in Constantinople."
Antonius' face lightened briefly as if considering the possibility; then his shoulders slumped. "I think not. My father needs this dowry and I have two other brothers who require places. At least this marriage allows me to stay here."
"Why is it so important to stay in Alexandria? Constantinople is a thriving city, with many opportunities for clever young men. You might make your fortune at court."
He lifted a lock of her shoulder-length hair and curled it around his finger. "Would you wait for me, Selene?"
"What do you mean?" She pulled away in confusion.
"I have long known you did not feel for me what I felt for you. We grew up together and you are all I've ever wanted. I love your courage, your wit, even your stubbornness. But you have only called me 'friend'." Antonius gripped her arms. "Last year, when my father revealed his plans for me to wed Honoria, I ranted, refused t
o consider it. I thought of asking you to run away with me."
His eyes searched her face. Seeing her frown of shock and surprise, Antonius dropped his grip and turned away, head in hands. "What kind of life would that be for you? You are so happy with your studies. I can offer you nothing, but I can do a great deal for my family."
She should have known. All the hints, the teasing, the warm looks. She was blind not to see. No, not blind. Selene hadn't wanted to see; hadn't wanted to act on her own feelings – the confused urgings that pulled her toward the warmth, caring and safety of marriage; things she didn't want to want.
"Tell me, Selene, have you given your heart to another, while I hesitated?" Antonius raised his head, pain pinching his mouth. "I've seen how you moon about Orestes."
She babbled, giving herself time to make sense of his declaration and her reactions. "The only woman Orestes shows any interest in is Hypatia. There is some scandal rumored among the servants, though I think they are just great friends and she an able advisor." The lines of hurt deepened at the corners of his eyes. "Oh, Antonius, why didn't you say something sooner? Why now?"
"I saw you walking down the colonnade, looking so beautiful, and had to talk to you – tell you my feelings. I know this is selfish, but it might be my last chance."
Selene's heart pounded. She had tried so hard to put away love, ignore cravings for physical affection while pursuing her studies. Now those urges coursed through her as inexorably as the Nile floods, sweeping all her carefully built dikes before it. She lowered her gaze to her left hand clenching her linen tunic and absently smoothed the wrinkles.
"Have no suitors approached your father?" Antonius asked.
Selene looked into his eyes and smiled. "My reputation for stubbornness precedes me." She turned solemn. "I fear my father is falling into similar straits as yours. He is unhappy for days after Phillip returns from the farms. I sometimes hear them arguing. The very fact Father allows me to study a profession tells me he fears for the future." Selene gave Antonius a level stare. "With or without the prospect of a dowry, I've found no suitor for whom I would give up my aspirations."
"So you have given your heart." He barked a bitter laugh. "Just not to another man. My dreams of us together could never compete with your ambition to be a physician, just as I never could compete with you in a race." He tipped her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. "Let me at least know what I'm missing."
He bent his head to hers, covering her mouth with a hard, insistent kiss, caressing her back. Warmth flashed from her groin, trembling along her nerves. Her eyes flew wide then drooped in dreamy ecstasy. She leaned into his body, feeling the firm muscles of his chest against her breasts, smelling the musk of his sweat, kissing him back with a fierce intensity that surprised and confused her.
Antonius broke off the kiss with a gasp and cradled her tightly against his chest. "I never should have done that. How can I be happy with Honoria when I want only you?"
With a strangled sob, he rushed off before Selene could utter a protest.
She sat, sorting through her tangled feelings. The memory of his body pressed to hers sent another flood of warmth coursing through her. A hot flush spread across her face. She pressed her forehead to the marble of the nook, momentarily distracting herself with the silky feel of stone against flesh. What a Gordian knot!
Antonius loved her.
She repeated the phrase over and over in her mind, chasing it in circles, coming to no conclusions other than to wonder at the fact.
Antonius loved her.
How could he? He had seen her with skinned knees and dirt on her face. He accused her of smelling like a chariot horse and acting like a donkey. He laughed at her, challenged her, beat her at javelin throws and been beaten by her in foot races. He kept her secrets and encouraged her dreams even when those dreams took her from him. Now it was too late. He would marry Honoria in two weeks.
Antonius loved her.
A deep sense of loss washed through her, making her breathing ragged with the effort not to cry. A dull pain spread from her chest to lodge in her throat. She dashed tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. Moments before, she had been blissfully unaware of her feelings, content with a scholar's life, planning her future as a physician. Now she cried like a silly twit of a girl who thinks life is over because she can't marry the boy of her choice. A fresh round of sobs racked her body.
"Selene? Is anything the matter, child?" She looked up to see Hypatia's worried face peeking around the screen of date leaves. "Are you ill? Are you having trouble with your studies?" Hypatia entered the alcove, seated herself beside Selene and patted her awkwardly on the back.
Selene gulped her tears and fumbled for a cloth to wipe her nose. "It's nothing, Honored Teacher. Do not bother yourself."
"I beg to differ, my dear. You are the only girl currently taking public instruction – at my sponsorship. If something is wrong, I should know." A twinkle came to her eyes. "Besides, I spend my entire professional life surrounded by men – academics, politicians, students. It's pleasant to have the company and conversation of an intelligent woman."
Selene, flattered at being accorded such familiarity with the famous philosopher, was almost giddy with the highs and lows of her emotions. But, most of all, she longed for the benefit of an older woman's advice and sympathy. "Thank you, Lady. I'm afraid my distress is a matter of the heart."
Hypatia's gazed narrowed. "Young Antonius?"
"Yes! How did you know?"
"He quit this alcove with most unseemly haste. And there are other signs for people with sharp eyes. He's betrothed to the corn factor Ision's daughter, is he not?"
"Honoria. Yes, she's a dear friend of mine and desperately in love with Antonius. He says he loves me, but must marry Honoria for his family's sake."
"And you, my dear? How do you feel about him?"
"I don't know. I want him to be happy. Of all the boys and men I've known, he is the only one I would even consider marrying. If I asked, he would run away with me. But his family would be ruined and Honoria devastated." Selene hesitated, looking off into the distance. "And I want to be a physician. I know I can be a good one. What should I do?"
Hypatia patted her hand. "I'm a poor one to ask advice of in matters of the heart." She tapped her head. "I've lived primarily up here. As a young woman, I occasionally had physical urges, but suppressed them. Philosophy is my life and my love."
"You've had no one to love you?"
"I didn't say that. I've had the love of many – a pure spiritual love." Hypatia's eyes took on a dreamy look. "Only one had the audacity to express physical love – a young man when I was quite new to teaching."
"What happened?"
"I treated him rather badly. He stood up in one of my lectures and declared his feelings in front of all my students. He praised me lavishly for my beauty. Most women would have been flattered. I was furious."
Selene tried to imagine her teacher a young woman suffused with passion and anger. In the face of Hypatia's age and serenity, her imagination failed. "What did you do?"
The older woman blushed. "I removed the bloody rag I used for my monthly courses and said, 'Is this what you love? This physical body? If so, your love for me is false, for the flesh is but a thing of fleeting beauty.'" Hypatia looked at her age-spotted hands. "The young man left the city, never to return. I was right in my philosophy, but wrong in my actions."
Selene's eyes rounded with wonderment. For Hypatia to publicly engage in such a shocking act seemed overly dramatic. Maybe her teacher was telling her the passions and follies of youth could be weathered. "Do you miss not having a husband and children?"
"I've known many men over the years. None could convince me to leave my calling, although many tried. Children?" Hypatia smiled. "I've had hundreds – eager young minds waiting for me to mold them. I've taught two generations and my children now fill positions of power and influence throughout the region. But that recognition is not why I teach. Ph
ilosophy and teaching is not only what I do, but is my very essence. Few are the people who rise each morning greeting the sun with prayers of thanks for their calling. Are you one of those, Selene?"
"I thought so. I'm not so sure now. I boasted about remaining husbandless and making my own way in the world. Now that perpetual maidenhood is likely, I feel lost and alone."
"A scholar's life is hard for a woman, but not all scholarly women are unmarried. Nor are all women physicians maidens. Pantheia made common cause with her physician husband Glycon, sharing not only a home but her life's work."
Selene looked up in surprise. Auxentius had told her about the Pergamon physician who died many years before Selene was born, but she had forgotten.
"I can only speak for myself and my choices." Hypatia continued. "You might make very different ones. My best advice is to listen to both your head and your heart. In my experience they frequently are more in agreement than it seems at first."
"Thank you, Honored Teacher." Selene stood and took the older woman's hands in hers. "I'll remember your words." She glanced over her shoulder. "I need to find my servant. She has suffered much on my account already."
"Good day, Selene. I'm sure you will make the right decision for everyone."
Selene looked for Rebecca at their appointed meeting place, next to a public kitchen. The tantalizing scent of fresh bread led her to the spot as surely as her eyes noted the landmarks. She spied Rebecca laughing and warding off Phillip's attempts to pop some tidbit into her mouth. Selene stood, observing the light in Phillip's eyes, the saucy tilt of Rebecca's head.
Selene of Alexandria Page 18