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Authors: Faith L. Justice

BOOK: Selene of Alexandria
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"I would cut off my right hand before I harmed Rebecca and I certainly have no intention of acquiring a broken head from the toughs in the street or from you." He pulled her closer again. "Trust me. Orestes can bring a new era of tolerance to Alexandria. I want to help."

"I don't see how you and Rebecca can be together even in this new age you speak of. Never mind that she is a servant." Selene settled onto his chest, listening to the double thump of his heart. "Both Jews and Christians forbid intermarriage without conversion, and the law forbids you to convert to Judaism. If Rebecca will not become Christian, what will you do? I would not see you shame her by keeping her as a concubine."

Phillip's voice became gruff. "We'll make it work…somehow."

 

 

 

Chapter 19

 

Orestes and his escort made their way through the throngs toward the open-air theater in the eastern quarter.

"A rousing crowd tonight, eh, Orestes?" Jesep's elbow jostled his. Orestes tolerated the inappropriate familiarity. Jesep, along with several chief men among the Jews, had invited the Prefect to a play. The Patriarch pressed hard to ban such spectacles; the Jews lobbied equally hard to keep them. Orestes understood this bitter public disagreement over entertainers masked deeper motives on the part of both parties and tread lightly between the two. He came prepared to make some conciliatory remarks, hoping to reconcile the feuding factions – at least on this dispute.

Orestes chatted with his companions as they entered the theater. It sat at the edge of the ruined palace district, nestled into a limestone ridge. The rows of seats marched in a semicircle up the slope, affording the audience a magnificent view of the grain fleet and the Pharos Lighthouse. Seven ships, their bright sails furled, sat low in the water, filled with sacks of grain. Over thirty ships a week during the next five months would make the round trip to Constantinople to deliver the precious golden cargo. Orestes saw the laden ships as a sign of his success.

The Master of Ceremonies announced Orestes' presence and bade him welcome. The crowd came to its feet, roaring. Orestes' chest expanded. These people approved of him; they wanted his presence. He was doing what he came here to do – keep the peace, expand prosperity, build his reputation.

Orestes strode into the arena, put out his hands and waved the crowd to silence. "Thank you, fellow citizens, for the warm welcome. I'm pleased to share this night's entertainment with you. Following the play, I'll have some remarks, but for now – let the show begin!" The crowd gave one final roar before settling in their seats.

 

Orestes clapped enthusiastically. The young men playing the Theban prince Theseus and his escort created a thrilling interpretation of Cretan bull dancing. Orestes found himself shouting with the crowd as the naked players grabbed the horns of an actor wearing a bull's head and somersaulted over the smoke-snorting Minotaur. They danced in, one after the other, to tease the monster, somersault over and poke the beast in the ribs, only to vault back to their original spots.

As the players took their bows, a commotion broke out near the stage. A dozen or so men dressed as monks, rushed into the arena and started beating the actors – most with their fists, but a few had cudgels. A larger contingent from among the audience rushed into the arena in defense of the players. Before the entire theater could empty onto the stage, Orestes stood and shouted, "Stay in your seats! I will deal with this disturbance." He turned to the captain of his escort. "Stop the melee and bring the churchmen to me."

Orestes clenched his fists, arms stiff at his sides. He thought he had come to an accommodation with Cyril concerning the parabolans. The force of five hundred was to be reduced to fifty, to guard only Cyril's person, not patrol the streets. Abundantius had withdrawn a similar number of soldiers, so the streets of Alexandria were, Orestes thought, policed by the city guard.

His captain returned with a protesting monk. "This one claims to be their leader, sir."

"Who are you and why do you cause such riot."

"I am Ammonius of Nitria," the monk said, face red, a line of spittle dressing his beard. "I came to do what you will not – close this den of unrighteousness."

"I have not yet ruled on the matter of entertainers," Orestes said in a deceptively mild voice. "It's my understanding the Patriarch protests lewd mimes, naked female players and theater performed on the Sabbath. I witnessed none of those conditions."

"It's the Jewish Sabbath. By their own laws, these…people… should be home or worshiping. Instead they fill their eyes with filth!"

"Silence!" Orestes raised his hand. "Who appointed you keeper of Jewish law?"
The monk's face set in a hard line. A fanatical gleam sparkled in his eyes. "God directs my actions."
Jesep stepped forward. "This smacks of a man's hand, not God's. A man named Hierex, an agent of the Patriarch."
"Hierex," people near enough to hear muttered.
"Hierex is Cyril's agent," several shouted. "Hierex speaks against us."

Orestes turned to Demetrius with a raised eyebrow. This confirmed reports from Phillip. His secretary leaned forward and spoke in low tones. "Hierex is a teacher known to be loyal to the Patriarch. He is well regarded in Christian circles."

"I've other reports of his actions. He seems to be at the root of much trouble." Orestes turned back to Jesep. "What proof have you that Hierex's will drives these men?"

"He spreads lies and builds outrage among the common people. He has also spoken against you, Lord Prefect. Saying you are no true Christian, in that you favor the company of pagans and Jews."

"Do not listen to them; they pour poison in your ears, Prefect!" Ammonius struggled in his captor's grip. "Jews are the agents of the devil."

Jesep turned red and stood toe-to-toe with the monk. "I protest the actions of this...Christian." He turned to Orestes, hands outstretched. "We've been here since Alexander the Great built this city. The Patriarch in his festal letter says we are 'filled with every type of impurity.' He denounces our beliefs and, though he has not urged violence, Hierex and his followers raid our neighborhoods and attack our people. I call on you, Augustal Prefect, to stop this heinous behavior and protect the Jewish citizens of Alexandria."

Orestes' anger neared the boiling point. The two factions could not have planned such a public confrontation if they tried. He could not maintain a façade of neutrality while the parabolans made free rein of the city. Orestes turned to the listening audience. "My fellow citizens, I came to your fair city to serve all Alexandrines. I am the representative of Imperial authority in Egypt and Alexandria. It is my duty to protect all citizens of the Empire and I will carry out that duty. Those who wish to foment unrest – be they Christian or Jew – will suffer the consequences."

Ragged shouts of approval went up in some quarters. Muttering rumbled in others. A dozen or so people rose and left the theater. He motioned one of his guards to follow. "I keep the peace in this city, not the parabolans. All who wish can freely travel and attend entertainments, as they will. I will not keep their consciences."

"Pagan! Jew lover!" Ammonius spat at Orestes.

"Guards, take this monk in for questioning. Pick up Hierex as well. I want to know what he is plotting and who controls him."

The guard saluted. "Yes, sir. I'll deliver them personally."

The soldiers removed the monk. Orestes turned to the subdued crowd. "We came here in good fellowship to enjoy an evening's entertainment. Let us put aside our rancor and ill-will in the common cause of peace in our city."

"Well said, Prefect. Our community needed to hear your support." Jesep bobbed his head. "Would you care to join me and some colleagues to discuss our concerns?"

Orestes sighed inwardly. "Certainly."

 

Hierex stifled a moan as his torturer turned to heat the tongs in a brazier of blazing coals. His hands and feet numb from the tight leather bands that held his naked form spread-eagled on an upright X-shaped rack. He wished the rest of his body exhibited a similar lack of feeling.

He couldn't see out his left eye. His tongue probed bloody holes where three of his teeth recently lodged. Burns blistered the skin inside his thighs and across his belly. "Good Lord Jesus, give me strength to endure these tortures in your name," he mumbled over and over.

The burly guard turned back to him with the glowing tongs. Hierex quickened his prayers.
"Tell me who is behind these attacks."
He said nothing.
"Come now, you need only give me a name. Any name."

The red glowing tongs came closer to his genitals. Hierex' mind raced like a dog chasing its tail as he sought a way to avoid the pain without betraying his Patriarch.

"Pentadius!" he cried out, mangling the name through swollen lips and broken teeth. "Pentadius asked that the parabolans assist in expelling the Jews."

"Liar. Tell me of the Patriarch."

The tongs burned the hair from his groin. Hierex contracted his belly muscles as far as he could, in a futile effort to avoid the searing pain. He screamed as blistering heat touched his scrotum. The sickening smell of his scorched flesh filled the room.

"Gallus, what's this?" A deep voice stopped the torturer's movements. "I asked you to question this man, not kill him."

Hierex tilted his head to get a blurry picture of Orestes standing in the doorway. He looked angry, but not horrified, at the sight of his tortured body.

"Prefect, forgive me." Gallus spoke in stricken tones. "He refused to answer. This is standard procedure for questioning prisoners."

"I'm well aware of that." The chill in Orestes' voice seemed to lower the temperature in the dank dungeon. "This is a delicate matter. I expected a little less obvious physical damage." The Prefect sighed. "I should have overseen the questioning from the beginning." Orestes looked him over, a deep frown on his face. "Take him down and clean him up. I want him in my quarters in the morning."

"Yes, sir." Gallus bowed as Orestes left the room.

Hierex sent one venomous look at the Prefect's retreating back then passed out in relief.

 

"The Patriarch to see you, sir." Demetrius showed Cyril into Orestes' office. Cyril presented a calm face. Orestes had some hope that Cyril might disavow these men as rogue elements in the church.

"I understand you have detained a Nitrian monk and a member of my staff, Prefect. May I inquire as to their crimes?"

Orestes rose as the Patriarch entered the room and indicated a chair. "Disturbing the peace. Ammonius and several parabolans attacked a band of players. Hierex spreads sedition."

"Hierex spoke against the most Christian Emperor Theodosius? I find that hard to believe."
"Hierex incites Alexandrine citizens to riot."
"Surely not. Hierex is in training for the priesthood. He comes under my jurisdiction. I want him now."

Orestes sat behind his desk without asking Cyril's permission. "Hierex will be brought shortly. I have other matters to discuss with you, Patriarch. Ammonius led a band of armed monks. I thought we agreed the parabolans were to be disbanded."

"They have been, Prefect. I know nothing of this Ammonius."

"He is a monk, and claims allegiance to you."

"All monks in the city of Alexandria are under my protection. Give him over to me and he shall receive the punishment he deserves."

Orestes hope faded fast. "Alexandria is a fragile city, Patriarch. Let us work together to make it stronger. I am attempting to keep the peace, but you must keep your people in line."

Cyril stared hard at Orestes, frowning. "Alexandria must be a Christian city, Prefect. God and the Emperor have decreed it. Help me in this endeavor or stand out of my way."

"The Emperor never decreed his citizens be attacked and their property confiscated."

"Christianity has been the state religion for over thirty years. The Imperial Senate and the Emperor himself have provided ample laws concerning the treatment of heretics. We can not tolerate citizens who believe in anything other than the Catholic Church. I seek no more than what the Emperor wishes – a Christian community throughout the Roman Empire."

"God may whisper in your ear, Patriarch, but don't pretend to speak for the Emperor. I am his representative in Alexandria."

"The Emperor's representative? Or the Regent's?" Cyril's smile did not reach his eyes. "Things are changing at court. I understand the Emperor's sister Pulcheria – a most Christian lady – is taking an interest in running the Empire."

Orestes smoothed his face into a mask. He had hoped Cyril's sources wouldn't be as effective as they proved. "Until I hear differently, I am still the Imperial representative and Governor of Egypt." Orestes spread his hands in a supplicating gesture. "I do not wish to argue with you, Patriarch. No one benefits when a city goes up in flames. Your followers suffer as much as the non-believers."

"Speaking of my followers, I demand you turn Hierex and the monk over to me."

Orestes nodded to Demetrius who exited. He turned back to Cyril. "Cooperate with me. Together we can make this a great city – one of peace and learning."

"We can only have peace when all have accepted the True Word of God. Learning is useless unless it reveals that Word."
Demetrius returned with the two men; Hierex supported by the limping monk.
Cyril turned to Orestes, rage pulsing through his voice. "How have you used my people?"
"They caused riot and would not answer my questions."
"These men are protected by the One True Church of Jesus Christ."

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