Aries Fire (35 page)

Seira felt suddenly embarrassed and searched for her clothes. Eudocia placed a hand on Seira’s arm.

“No need to hide it. It’s part of being a woman,” she said. “Headache all gone now?” Eudocia then added, “We do what needs to be done.”

Seira dropped her awkward behavior with a sigh and touched her temple with newfound awareness. All of her tension was gone.  The wretched ache in her hips had vanished, as well, and left no memory of Bleda.  She looked at her new friend with gratitude and a coy shrug.

“Alexander is with us now,” Eudocia whispered.

Seira gasped. The Empress nodded.

“Hidden in Paulinus’ room until you leave at sunset.”

“Attila knows?” Asked Eudocia.

“That I leave with Alexander? Yes,” said Seira.

Not sure if Alexander needed to know that she lay with Attila, Seira looked off into the face of the woman seated on the planet in the mural.

A common heavenly destiny.

“This is indeed a momentous day for all of us,” said Eudocia. “The Hun guards will wake soon. There will be,” she paused.  “Restitution I fear. Wear this,” Eudocia said and handed her the blue tunic.

Seira held it in her hands as if it were a delicate flower. Observant of the detailed silver stitching that created the Suleyman seal, the star of Solomon and David, she fingered the threads repeatedly.  Round the triangles again and again making sense of her path.

Two triangles, six smaller triangles, and the hexagon in the center connecting it all, made sense to Seira.

“Eudocia, this ribbon…”

“Yes. I believe it refers to uniting the two triangles a thousand times. You see the shape of the ribbon? It is the Roman mark for that amount.”

“No, I don’t think it means a thousand times,” Seira said looking at the looped ribbon. “When my mother taught mathematics, I scarcely paid attention, it was a boring subject for me,” she said, almost smelling the scent of Hypatia’s hair oil as she walked past her, analyzing her work. “A truer definition would most certainly be jam numerus incrementorum est as my mother would have said.”

“Time without end?  Hmm.  Eternity?  Yes,” Eudocia pondered the concept.  “I much prefer that to ‘a thousand times,’“ Eudocia said and thought of her babies living an eternal life elsewhere.

“Ad infinitum,” Seira whispered thinking about eternity with Alexander. “When can I see Alexander?” she asked.

Nissa entered the bath chamber. Seira hadn’t noticed her absence. She spoke softly to the Empress.

“Nissa, thank you. Wait for us in the garden, dear,” Eudocia said then turned to Seira.  “The delegates assemble in the large hall. We must make haste. If the Huns on board the ship warn their compatriots that Alexander has escaped before we hide you, there might very well be a battle here in the Palace. We cannot risk it,” she said as she stood.

Seira quickly slid the tunic over her head and shook out her wet hair.

“You must remember to walk several paces behind me. Keep your head down and eyes lowered. If anyone addresses you, nod and reply succinctly, but defer to me as Empress,” Eudocia looked squarely at Seira. “My dear.”

Seira’s neck felt stiff. Not since leaving the Ishtar did she feel this much anxiety about the unknown.

“You appear quite becoming in that color,” said the Empress.

Everything you need.

Isaac’s words were true. She fought to believe them and once cursed them. Thinking about those words now felt true. She sucked almond bits from her teeth and searched for a place to spit them out discreetly.

“I’m ready,” said Seira.

They left the bath and Seira felt the mural as if it watched her, without judgment, waiting to see what she would do.

As the three women walked through the courtyard and garden, Seira noticed the array of lovely flowerbeds and fruit trees. This was a truly spectacular palace. But for her, now, merely a maze of rooms and steps that led to her freedom. Tiny cold raindrops began to fall and patter on the leaves. The damp air smelled of Earth, in some ways, promising and reassuring.

The Empress glided through the palace with a gait that befitted a queen. Seira felt as if she followed her mother, the way she once did, and kept her head down.

Several servants passed and took no notice of Seira. They all bowed with reverence and stepped aside for their just Empress. As they approached the central rooms of the great hall, Seira saw the door to the library where she and the Empress sat for hours the night before; all was revealed and her life was renewed. She would never forget that library or the Empress.

They would need to continue their walk past the large hall. Nissa stepped to Seira’s right to block the view of any delegate in the large hall who might have a cause to scrutinize.

Seira heard a man’s voice. It belonged to the Emperor. The Empress nodded cordially as she passed the 12-foot bronze and wooden doors to the room that would eventually accommodate the seven delegates. Another man’s voice answered the Emperor.

“…without question, Emperor,” he said.

“Please Bishop Cyril, be seated,” the Emperor said as his voice trailed off.

Cyril, so close!

Seira imagined the Bishop, felt his cruelness and shuddered. Seira glanced quickly into the great hall and saw Attila. She suddenly felt privileged and safe all at once. An edgy sigh released and she lowered her head once again.

Did he see me?

A tingling sensation prickled her groin with a memory of explosive ecstasy. Every shape that carved out the palace looked like a penis to her.

“The dreary day is enlivened with your radiance, Empress,” a deep voice said.

Seira jumped, startled by the voice.  Thrown from passionate memories she glanced up as Deacon Leo walked toward the women. He greeted the Empress with sincerity and barely glimpsed the two Jewish women who trailed Eudocia.

“Deacon Leo,” Eudocia nodded graciously.

They stood for a few moments, hands engaged to exchange salutations.  To Seira, it was an endless moment of anxiety. This was the man Attila lived with in his youth. What was he like?

“I do hope the lodgings are pleasing to you and your company.”

“Most indeed, Madame. Our humble appreciation for your generosity,” he bowed.

“God speed in the talks your Grace. Oh, and I shall have that copy of St. Patrick prepared before the day grows long,” she added.

“I am most grateful. Most grateful, Empress,” Leo said as he took several gradual strides around Eudocia and her entourage to pass by.

Seira’s head turned to the left for one slight moment ahead of his footsteps and kept her eyes forced downward to keep from looking at him.  Her heart suddenly raced with unprovoked fear.  Shallow breaths forced her to feel as if she drowned, slowly.

As Deacon Leo passed by he turned leisurely to look at Seira and she felt his presence.  Leo emanated paternal magnetism: strong, forgiving, zealously corporal.  The draw was irresistible. Seira couldn’t help herself, overcome by his pulse and her wild curiosity, she looked up at him. Their common gaze locked.

In his brilliant blue eyes, a flashing image, a vision of things to come: she saw herself, her mother as a young woman, she saw Attila fall and Leo exalted because of it.

NO!

Seira pushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to keep it shut, and to keep from shattering the hall with screams. She quickly looked away.

Eudocia’s smile faded for the sight before her and its implications. Seira and the Leo stood the exact height. When their eyes met, Eudocia saw a mirror image of their profiles. It almost took away her breath and she had to cough to regain her composure.

“This damp air is such a nuisance,” she said.

Deacon Leo glanced at her and nodded pleasantly and continued on his way. Slowly but most definitely he peered at Seira in a sideward glance as he walked away. Something in his expression frightened the Empress.

Seira lowered her head and followed behind the Empress. Had her hair been thoroughly dry, everyone would have seen the drops of sweat drip down her temples. Seira felt horribly dizzy.

They turned toward the vestibule that lead down a flight of marble steps and into the servant’s quarters. Seira, out of Leo’s sight, fell back onto a wall and almost toppled down the stairs.

“I,” she heaved.

The Empress grabbed her arms to hold her up, turned to Nissa and quickly instructed her. The girl hurried off. Eudocia and Seira made their way to Paulinus’ door.  Three knocks, then one and the door opened. Seira fell into Alexander’s arms and began to shake as the Empress promptly closed the door.

“What’s happened?” asked Alexander.

He held Seira close and she relaxed, feeling safe. Seira wiped her nose and tearing eyes with the back of her hand. Eudocia instinctively handed her a handkerchief.

“I scarcely know what to say,” Eudocia said as she nervously stroked her already flawless hair.  Alexander looked at both of them. Seira blotted her eyes with a crumpled handkerchief in her fist and pulled away from Alexander.

“Will you tell me what happened?” his voice pleaded politely. “Are we found out?”

“No,” said Seira slowly.

“Lock the door,” said Alexander with authority.

The Empress complied. Seira sat on the bed. Alexander sat next to her. Eudocia paced leisurely.

“My Dear, what did you see when you looked at him?” she asked Seira.

“Looked at who?” Alexander asked.

“I,” Seira began and paused. “I saw my face,” she said.

“I looked into the eyes of the Deacon Leo, not inches away, and I saw my face, and,” she said almost incredulous. Seira tried to recall the vision about Attila’s eventual fall from power but left it in the dark. Alexander’s frown questioned her.

“Yes. I saw my face. What did you see, Eudocia?”

“I saw the mirror images of, of,” she stuttered, reluctant to say it.

“Of father and daughter?” asked Alexander.

“By the stars! How could this be?” asked Seira.

“Yes, of course!” Exclaimed the Empress. “Deacon Leo was deeply and undeniably disturbed by a book in my library, much in the same place where your mother’s books sat.  Seira,” Eudocia faced Seira gravely.  “The Deacon Leo is a very powerful man in the church. His single-minded ambitions lay upon the holy throne,” Eudocia said.

Seira and Alexander listened carefully to comprehend the scope of danger that surrounded them.

“He will one day become Pope of Rome and soon I think.  Deacon Leo is the harbinger of religious fanaticism and Bishop Cyril’s conductor. And from what we have seen a moment ago, Leo is your father,” Eudocia said.

The women stared at each other in disbelief. Alexander held onto Seira’s hands.

“The truth is laid out before our eyes and we are shocked to see it so,” Alexander said. “When you were carried off in a barrel of fish my heart told me you would be safe. Even out of my hands, you managed to become your mother’s daughter: on fire with passion for life. The woman I knew you’d become,” he said.

Seira looked into Alexander’s eyes and forced herself to let go of Attila. Conflict surrounded her and invaded her private thoughts. It had taken Alexander’s sudden appearance to move Attila and Seira past their imaginary boundary. And now, now it was necessary to move her affections aside and make a choice.

“Fate has brought us both here now Seira. Fate challenges us to overcome the past,” said Alexander.

There it was, exactly what she needed to hear.  Cynicism melted and she softened. Once again, captivated by his voice, she listened for wisdom she knew would save her from panic and rage.  Alexander put his hand gently on her cheek.  Defense against life and emotions were no use to her with Alexander. She knew she’d have to change in order to stay with him.

There was so much he wished to say to her about the time lost without her, in search of her. Their time to reunite and detail their lives to date would need to wait.

Alexander’s mind computed the possible outcome of Cyril, Bleda, Attila, and now Leo, all focused on Seira. He hummed beneath his breath and curled his lips.

“You’re quite popular, my Love,” he said, scratching his head.

Alexander’s words calmed Seira and brought her own truth to light.  Seira gave in to his lightness easily. A memory of her training with Isaac and Kiki sounded off in her head.

“Overcome yes, but first we must face it. I cannot run from it any more. Destiny is not however, written in stone forever marking our lives, Alexander.” His look penetrated hers. “And destiny is no more than our Spirit’s destination and how we choose to make it so,” she said, suddenly witnessing her pervasive and clear-headed wisdom.

Seira looked up at Eudocia then turned to Alexander, encouraged; she clasped Alexander arms. “If Leo is my father then perhaps that is why Cyril has hunted me all these years,” Seira said, relieved of at least one ambiguous piece of her enigma.

Although her sharp mind began to solve the riddle, some pieces still remained a mystery. Seira stood, somewhat perplexed by the latest puzzlement.

Did my mother die because of her beliefs or because of me?

“Well it seems the play reaches its final act with all the players assembled,” Eudocia said.

Alexander stood behind Seira, placed his arms around her waist. She leaned into him and felt invincible.

In the great hall the Emperor paced the length of the room with his hands behind his back.  Cyril sat in a chair beside a small serving table and watched him. After several paces, Cyril grew impatient.

The Emperor stopped walking to greet the Deacon as he entered the room through the double doors.  No one noticed his paled complexion. Leo hid his shock well. The men bowed to each other. Leo raised his right hand and blessed the Emperor.

Emotions give the Devil autonomy, Leo thought.

“Good day to you all,” said Leo.

Cyril nodded.  Rising for a public show of reverence, he bowed and sat once again.

“Are we all assembled?” asked Leo.

Bleda entered the room, his hair braided and knotted swung to his brutish gait. Theodosius ll glanced at Bleda and thought it odd that he arrived before Ruga, his khan.   Leo’s mouth barely upturned in a sneer. He nodded to Aetius who stood quietly in the corner of the room near the doorway.