Keeper of the Flame

by Tracy L. Higley

  Bellus smiled sadly but glanced at Ares and the camaraderie of the twelve men in the room, then smiled.

  “And also life.”

  Forty-Nine

  Sophia was still thinking of life five days later, as she stood in the shade of the Museum’s portico, surrounded by friends and by family, and with Bellus at her side, ready to recite the vows she never dreamed she would speak again. She wore a dress of finer silk than any she’d ever owned, and the female servants in the lighthouse had insisted on weaving flowers through her hair and layering jewels on her neck.

  The city was damaged but healing, as she herself was. The Library fires had destroyed many scrolls, and the warehouse fires even more. No one would forget the night that Alexandria burned.

  But as she looked across the harbor to the lighthouse, its beacon lit by the sun once again, she knew that as the city would never be the same, she was also forever changed.

  She would return to the lighthouse, but it would not be to hide. Already she had plans to open the tower to visitors, to give others a chance to be awed by the breathtaking view. She had learned that if she did not open her heart to love, hate would take it by force.

  On the street a few steps below, she watched Sosigenes speak with a dark-skinned man seated on a camel, with a pack of traders on camels behind him. Sosigenes patted the man’s leg and nodded, then turned and climbed the steps toward her.

  “They leave tonight and will be across to the East before the next full moon. It will be safe there.”

  Sophia watched the trader move away, a large pack secured to his camel. “Will they know how to use it?”

  Sosigenes turned to watch the traders. “Do not fear. The magi there have ways to search the skies for knowledge, ways that even I do not understand.”

  Bellus wrapped an arm around Sophia’s waist but spoke to Sosigenes. “What do they search for?”

  The old man’s smile held the riddles of the ages. “For the Long Awaited One. The consolation of Israel.” He lifted his eyes to the sky. “I have waited for the Messiah for many years myself, but I believe, my friends, that I may not have much longer to wait.”

  Sophia barely noticed when another joined them, but Bellus turned her to face a man she had only met once. Julius Caesar stood on the portico, a confident smile on his thin lips, his hair combed forward over his forehead. “Your corona vallaris, Pilus Prior Bellus,” he said, and held a gold crown to Bellus. “Well deserved. You have honored Rome with your duty here in Alexandria. He glanced at Sophia. I am pleased to see you settled into a new life.”

  Bellus closed his hand around the crown and nodded.

  Caesar turned to Sophia and to Sosigenes beside her. “It seems I have been imprudent in my attempt to waylay Alexandria’s scholars,” he said with a bow to Sosigenes. “Your citizens have made that clear. And someone else”—he looked to a chariot that awaited him in the street—“has assured me that this magical device of yours was nothing more than a ruse created by Pothinus as an excuse to attack the lighthouse.”

  Sophia looked to the chariot, to Cleopatra who lounged inside. The queen gave her a small wave, a tiny smile.

  Sophia nodded to her former student and smiled in return.

  “Still,” Caesar said to Sosigenes, “I should like to speak with you soon about rectifying this ridiculous calendar of ours.”

  Sosigenes bowed, and then Caesar was gone, down the steps and into the chariot beside Cleopatra. It lurched forward, and Cleo was lost to Sophia’s view.

  She turned her attention back to those on the portico.

  Bellus. Ares. Sosigenes. The scholars.

  Husband. Son. Father. Community.

  The mistaken belief that she must make herself worthy before she could be loved had been her curse for many years. But as Bellus lifted her hand to his lips and smiled, she knew that it was only the love that had the power to change her. The love of Bellus, of the One God, and of the Redeemer to come.

  As the curse that had held her captive for so long fell away, she breathed deeply of the Alexandrian air and spread her arms wide to embrace them all, to share the flame within her, and to see herself reflected in their eyes.

  Finally free.

  Fully loved.

  In a lofty tower set high above a teeming city,

  There lived a solitary woman

  Whose guilt and pain had long ago turned to ugliness.

  And when the ugliness became its own prison,

  And the pain of rejection too much to bear,

  Loneliness seemed the only answer.

  Until there came the whisper of Beauty

  The promise of Love

  In one so unlikely she nearly missed it.

  He did not ask her to change first,

  Before he would love her.

  For in truth, she could not.

  No, he loved her as she was,

  Because he chose to.

  And it was the loving

  That transformed her.

  Also by Tracy L. Higley

  The Queen’s Handmaid

  So Shines the Night

  Garden of Madness

  City on Fire: A Novel of Pompeii

  Palace of Darkness: A Novel of Petra (Available Fall 2014)

  Isle of Shadows

  Pyramid of Secrets (e-book only)

  Reading Group Guide

  1. What do you think about the relationship between Sophia and Cleopatra? Is it healthy? Have you ever had a similar relationship in your life?

  2. Unlike Sophia, Bellus is a people-pleaser, and is greatly troubled by the fact that he has disappointed his general, Julius Caesar. How does the desire to gain the approval of others affect the choices you make?

  3. Keeper of the Flame is largely a story about the desire for power. Many of the characters are willing to go to any length to get it. How does the desire for control lead us into trouble?

  4. As you read the story, did you see the “Beauty and the Beast” motif emerge? Can you identify the major points of the familiar tale, and the corresponding aspects of this novel?

  5. Sophia has been under a “curse” of her own making for many years. What does it take to release her from it?

  6. In what ways is your own story parallel to this one? Have you experienced the unconditional love of God, a love given before you changed to become worthy of it?

  7. Why does Sophia believe that Bellus cannot love her? Have you ever struggled to believe someone could love you? That God could love you? How are you overcoming that struggle?

  8. Alexandria is a city at the crossroads of many cultures. What did you most enjoy learning about the Greek, Egyptian and Roman cultures and history at this time?

  9. Do you believe we were created to be in relationship? If so, how are you making relationships a priority in your own life?

  10. The Lighthouse of Alexandria was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Just as Sophia was transformed, God wants to transform each one of us, and make us into a wonder, for His glory. How is he accomplishing this in your life?

  The Story Behind the Story . . . and Beyond

  The list of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World evolved slowly, from their first mention by the Greek historian Herodotus in 450 BC, to the poet Antipater in the second century BC. The Lighthouse of Alexandria was one of these Seven Wonders, and though lost to us, its mystique endures.

  The Lighthouse was built by Sostratus the Cnidian around 250 BC, and was the first lighthouse in history. At about four hundred feet, it was among the tallest man-made structures in the world for millennia, second only to Khufu’s and Khafre’s pyramids. Currently, the tallest lighthouse in the world is in Yokohama, Japan, and is only 348 feet tall. The Lighthouse of Alexandria stood until a series of earthquakes in the Middle Ages eroded its foundation. Its blocks were used to build the medieval fort which stands at the tip of the island even now.

  In creating the story of Keeper of the Flame, I drew on two major inspirations—one historical and
the other fictional.

  Of course, the characters of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra were real figures, whose interaction with each other and with their countries of Rome and Egypt is well-documented. I attempted to remain as close as possible to what we know of both of these people, and of their relationship. Their specific conversations throughout the book are part of my fiction. But they did indeed form a relationship that was both political and personal, and even had a child together, whom Cleopatra hoped would rule in both Egypt and Rome. Caesar was assassinated in Rome in 44 BC, about four years after the final pages of Keeper of the Flame, and Cleopatra went on to form another famous alliance with Mark Antony, before the two took their own lives in 30 BC, rather than fall under the domination of Octavian (later called Caesar Augustus). If you’d like to meet Cleopatra again in the pages of my fiction, you’ll find her and Mark Antony in The Queen’s Handmaid.

  Much of the history of the Roman occupation of Alexandria in the novel is based on actual historical facts, and taken from Caesar’s own writings, The Alexandrian Wars. It was great fun for me to have this primary source, the very words of one of my characters, to guide me in recreating the water blockage, the harbor fire, the burning of the Library’s scrolls, the battle involving the Thirty-Seventh Legion, and the occupation of the Lighthouse.

  I also based the Proginosko mechanism on a real piece of machinery found off the coast of the Greek island Antikythera, and thus named the Antikythera Mechanism. Billed as the “world’s first computer,” this mechanism was lost at sea in the first century BC. If you’d like to read more about this fascinating find, you can discover more information on my website, TracyHigley.com.

  I also based Sosigenes on a real figure by the same name, the scholar who devised the Julian calendar for Julius Caesar about two years after the end of Keeper of the Flame. This calendar drastically improved the drift of days that had been occurring up until that time, because of the lunar rather than solar basis. It remained in use worldwide until the 1500s when it was replaced by the slightly-different Gregorian calendar, which we use today.

  The Lighthouse of Alexandria stood well into the 1300s. I have included more detailed information about the Lighthouse on my website.

  With so much history to draw upon, I entered into the creation of actual plot and the fictional characters, and it was here that I drew inspiration from one of my favorite fictional motifs, that of Beauty and the Beast.

  The story of Beauty and the Beast has often been told through literature and film, many of which are familiar in their basic elements. You’ll recognize that I switched the typical genders of the two characters, but there are many other elements tucked into the novel that were inspired by the age-old story. I hope you enjoyed my variation on this theme. It endures, I believe, because the frightening knowledge of our own unworthiness and the longing for a love that will transform is buried deep within each human heart. I ask you to consider that this is how God loves. Not based on our beauty or our achievements, but simply because he chooses to love. And it is the loving that changes us and makes us beautiful.

  Please visit me at TracyHigley.com. Experience more about the Lighthouse and the history behind Keeper of the Flame, and step into the sights and sounds of Alexandria by exploring my travel journals, photos, and videos of Egypt. You’ll also get access to free short stories and inside information on publishing. I hope you’ll join me at TracyHigley.com, and while you’re there, share your heart with me. I love hearing from readers!

  About the Author

  Photo courtesy of Mary DeMuth

  Tracy L. Higley started her first novel at the age of eight and has been hooked on writing ever since. She has authored nine novels, including So Shines the Night and The Queen’s Handmaid. Tracy is currently pursuing a graduate degree in Ancient History and has traveled through Greece, Turkey, Egypt, Israel, Jordan, and Italy, researching her novels and falling into adventures. See her travel journals and more at TracyHigley.com.

  An Excerpt from So Shines the Night

  Prologue

  I am an old man, and I have seen too much.

  Too much of this world to endure any more. Too much of the next to want to linger.

  And though I have nearly drowned in the glorious visions of those last days, yet I know not when it shall come, nor how many years I must tread this barren earth before all is made new.

  There is a Story, you see. And we are still in the midst of it, ever striving to play our roles, battling on for the freedom of hearts and souls and minds yet enslaved by darkness.

  But I have seen a great light. Oh yes, I have seen it. Even now it is breaking through, as it did on that grassy hillside so many cool spring mornings ago, when Moses and Elijah walked among us and my Brother shone with the glory He had been given from the beginning and will rise up to claim again at the end.

  You will wonder, perhaps, at my calling Him brother. And yet that is what He was to me. Brother and friend, before Savior, before Lord. In those days when we wandered the land, going up and down from the Holy City, we shared our hearts, our lives, our laughter. Oh, how we laughed, He and I! He had the irrepressible joy of one who sees beyond the brokenness, to the restoration of all.

  I loved Him. And He loved me.

  But I speak of beginnings and of endings, and these are words that have no meaning, for the day of His birth was both the beginning of the Kingdom and the end of tyranny, and that magnificent Day yet to come—it is the end-which-is-a-beginning, and my eyes have seen such glory in that New Jerusalem, my very heart breaks to tell of it.

  And yet they come, young and old, to this tiny home in Ephesus that is to be my last dwelling outside that New City, and they beg me to tell the Story again and again.

  And I do.

  I tell of seals and scrolls, of a dragon and a beast and a Lamb. Of music that makes you weep to hear it and streets that blind the mortal eye. Of a Rider on a White Horse with eyes of blazing fire whose name is Faithful and True. It is a great Story, and greater still to hear the final consummation of it, for how often we forget that we are living it still.

  But I have another tale to tell. A smaller story within the One True Story that began before the creation of this world and is echoed at its end, as all our stories are. It happens here, in this port city of Ephesus, but many years ago, when the darkness lay even heavier than it now does upon the people, and their souls cried out for relief from anyone who could give it.

  This smaller story does not begin here in Ephesus, however. It begins a day’s sail away, on the sun-kissed shores of the Isle of Rhodes, where the light first began to break upon one woman and one man, even as they walked in darkness . . .

  1

  Rhodes, AD 57

  In the glare of the island morning sun, the sea blazed diamond-bright and hard as crystal, erratic flashes spattering light across Daria’s swift departure from the house of her angry employer.

  She carried all she owned in one oversized leather pouch, slung over her shoulder. The pouch was not heavy. A few worn tunics and robes, her precious copy of Thucydides. She clutched it to her side and put her other hand to the gold comb pinning the dark waves of her hair, her one remaining luxury.

  The bitter and familiar taste of regret chased her from the whitewashed hillside estate, down into the squalid harbor district. Why had she not kept silent?

  Along the docks hungry gulls shrieked over fishy finds and work-worn sailors traded shrill insults. The restless slap of the sea against the hulls of boats kept time with the anxious rhythm of her steps against the cracked gray stones of the quay.

  She had run once, haunted and guilty, to a fresh start in Rhodes. Could she do it again? Find a way to take care of herself, to survive?

  “Mistress Daria!”

  The voice at her back was young and demanding, the tenor of a girl accustomed to a world arranged to her liking. And yet still precious, still malleable.

  “Mistress! Where are you going?”

  Daria slo
wed, eyes closed against the pain, and inhaled. She turned on the sun-warmed dock with a heaviness that pulled at her limbs like a retreating tide.

  Corinna’s breath came quick with exertion and the white linen of her morning robe clung to her body. The sweet girl must have run all the way.

  “To the School of Adelphos, Corinna. I will seek a position there.”

  Corinna closed the distance between them and caught Daria’s hand in her own. Her wide eyes and full lips bespoke innocence. “But you cannot! Surely Father did not mean what he said—”

  Daria squeezed the girl’s eager fingers. “It is time. Besides”— she tipped Corinna’s chin back—“you have learned your lessons so well, perhaps you no longer need the services of a tutor.”

  Corinna pulled away, dark eyes flashing and voice raised. “You do not believe that, mistress. It is you who says there is always more to learn.”

  They drew the attention of several young dockworkers hauling cargo from ship to shore. Daria stared them down until they turned away, then circled the girl’s shoulders, pulled her close, and put her lips to Corinna’s ear. “Yes, you must never stop learning, dear girl. But it must be someone else who teaches you—”

  “But why? What did you say to anger Father so greatly?”

  Only what she thought was right. What must be said. A few strong phrases meant to rescue Corinna from a future under the thumb of a husband who would surely abuse her.

  Daria smiled, fighting the sadness welling in her chest, and continued her trudge along the dock toward the school. “I am afraid discretion is one of the things I have not yet learned, Corinna. Your father is a proud man. He will not brook a mere servant giving him direction in the running of his household.”