Selene of Alexandria (4 page)

The crowd roared his name. The roar devolved into a chant: "Orestes. Blessed be your name. Just be your rule." The chant continued as he circled the agora, descended from the chariot and ascended the steps to the podium. His escort took positions ringing the platform. He raised his arms for silence. The crowd gave one final roar and quieted in expectation of the speeches.

Orestes sat on a cushioned chair left conspicuously vacant. He faced a tedious afternoon and was pleased to see the dignitaries well served with food and wine. Numerous scribes stood ready to record the speeches. Copies would be posted throughout the city tomorrow. A sailcloth canopy gave some relief from the sun, but Orestes soon felt sweat trickling down his back to be absorbed by his wool tunic. He resisted the urge to doff his full toga.

The Patriarch took the podium first. He welcomed Orestes to the city then conducted a lengthy prayer and homily admonishing him to do God's work. A number of nobles, councilors and elders followed Theophilus, each expressing their gratitude to the Emperor for sending such a wise and just man to rule over them. One by one they pledged their undying support. After about three hours, Orestes asked a servant to escort him to the facilities and excused himself to visit the private privy built under the reviewing stand for the comfort of the dignitaries.

He returned in time to see Lady Hypatia take the podium. She nodded as he seated himself and launched into her speech. He listened with interest, never having heard a woman speak in a public forum. Her intense form and commanding voice seemed to cast a spell over the crowd. They had been shuffling noisily and talking among themselves, but now they quieted, occasionally laughing at an amusing story or punctuating her speech with shouts of agreement. Anthemius had recommended Orestes seek the Lady Philosopher's advice and now he understood why. Hypatia seemed to have astute insight into the history and workings of the city.

The rhythms of her speech kept him enthralled until the use of his name startled him. "Orestes, I ask you to lead the city well. Remember a leader is best when the people feel a firm hand helping them along the road, not when they feel a heavy foot upon their necks. Beware of false obedience and acclaim. Listen more than you speak. Honor the people and they will honor you. When your work is done and your aim fulfilled, the people should say, 'We built this," and honor you for letting them. Welcome to our fair city, Orestes. May you – and we – prosper."

Hypatia bowed to Orestes as the crowd started chanting his name. It was his turn to take the podium and greet the people. He straightened his shoulders and strode to the lectern with his head held high. The chanting filled his chest with pride until he remembered Hypatia's words on false acclaim. These people knew nothing of him except that he represented the Emperor. He would have to prove himself worthy of their regard, as he had with his army commands, through hard work and wise decisions. He felt a momentary hesitation, then let it pass.

"My fellow citizens," he began in slightly accented Greek, "I greet you on behalf of the Most Pious and Beloved Emperor Theodosius II. In this, the fourth year of his reign, the Roman Emperor of the East extends to you his blessings and assures you of his love and justice." Orestes continued in the same vein, as customary, acknowledging the warm welcome and elaborately praising the city and its people. "The Emperor knows of the great work you do here in Egypt, laboring to feed the Empire…" There were some mutters and dark looks, so he hastened past this topic onto another. "In appreciation the Emperor has increased the bread dole by one-half portion for three months."

The crowd roared its approval, stamping their feet and clapping loudly while calling his name. When they quieted, he continued. "The Emperor provides a thousand head of cattle for your feasts." More cheers rippled through the crowd as the word spread beyond his voice.

Orestes noted the lowering sun and the restive condition of the crowd, and concluded, "In light of the advice given me by the wise Lady Hypatia to listen more than speak, I'll conclude by saying what an honor it is to serve my Emperor in this fairest of all cities. Enjoy this feast day, good citizens, and may God bless us all."

The crowd indulged in one more round of chanting before dispersing to the various celebrations sponsored by the city, professional guilds and the church. Orestes, girding himself for a long night of banquets in his honor, turned to the city and church elders and surrendered to his fate.

"Which group is this?" Orestes asked Abundantius as they ascended the stairs to their third reception. The dux had volunteered to escort his old friend around the city and make sure Orestes got to the Prefect's mansion in time to bathe before starting his duties early the next morning.

Orestes groaned. "I'm getting too old for this. My shoulder is bruised from so many vigorous salutations, my ears numb from the incessant requests for an audience, and my face will likely crack if I have to smile one more time." He ran his hand through his close-cropped auburn hair. "I would rather march thirty miles, in full pack, cross-country than spend another day such as this."

Abundantius roared and pounded Orestes on his reportedly sore shoulder. "You're the one who gave up the military life for civil service, my friend. Now you have to live with it. Come, the councilors wait."

The City Council building housed the banquet. They ascended the marble steps past a row of columns, into a massive hall. Internal columns held up a vaulted ceiling, painted deep blue with the twelve constellations depicted in gold leaf. Painted plaster walls gave the illusion of looking out into a formal garden. About seventy temporary couches lined the walls, many accommodating two or three occupants. A leather couch strewn with red and purple silk cushions was reserved for him just to the right of the entrance.

Orestes took his place and waved off the servants bringing food, although he did accept a goblet of cold white wine. The councilors approached him one by one, according to rank and seniority. Abundantius introduced each and provided amusing stories about some as they left earshot.

"This next one is a solid fellow," Abundantius said in low tones. "Honest. Has a good head on his shoulders and is well respected by his colleagues."

Orestes looked up. A familiar face grinned at him behind a dignified old councilor's shoulder. "Phillip! Is this your family?"

Phillip bowed low. "Yes, Honored Prefect. This is my father Calistus, my brother Nicaeus, and my sister Selene."

Orestes clasped Calistus' arm. "Well met, Sir. Your son has told me much about you. I look forward to knowing you and your family better." The younger brother stepped forward with a bow. "Nicaeus, is it? I hope you've been staying away from the green melons."

"Yes, Sir." The lad blushed to the tips of his ears and glowered at his brother.

Orestes' eyes widened at the sight of Selene. Taller than most women by half a head, she had strong features – sweeping eyebrows, a nose just a bit too long, and a generous mouth. Not daintily pretty, but handsome in a way that lasts well into old age. "Phillip, this lovely young lady surely cannot be the madcap child with skinned knees you told me of?"

Selene curtsied low and flashed a smile as he offered his hand to help her rise. "I see my brother has been most generous with his stories. You must not believe everything he says, Lord Prefect. He is a most notorious teller of tales. He honed his gift through the study of law."

"Ouch!" Phillip mimed pulling a knife from his heart.

Calistus frowned at his oldest son and said in frosty tones, "You must forgive my unruly children, Sir. Although it might not be in evidence, they were taught how to behave on formal occasions." All three offspring lost their smiles at their father's rebuke. Phillip's face settled into careful neutrality, only the tightness about the mouth betraying some tensions between father and son.

Orestes pushed away unwanted memories of his own stern father and said with a smile, "They are a pleasure, good Calistus. In a long day of ceremony, some levity with friends is welcome. And Phillip proved himself a most worthy friend on the journey."

As the family retreated to their couches, and before another could approach, Orestes mused, "Phillip proved himself a most capable and resourceful fellow on our journey. I believe I have a special appointment for him."

Abundantius raised a goblet. "What? When?"

"That depends on the next few days. I have much more to learn before I can tell what tasks to set him. But I know I will need people I can trust in sensitive positions." Orestes raised a glass of wine. "We'll see what opportunities present themselves."

After returning the jewelry and fine clothes to their chests, Rebecca cleaned the cosmetics from Selene's face and combed her hair. "What is the new Prefect like, Mistress?"

"He's magnificent, Rebecca! When my gaze met his, I had trouble breathing. My heart fluttered and I thought it would stop. His eyes are clear green, like gems on an expensive ring. They seemed to see into my very soul." She sighed dramatically. "He's a full head taller than Phillip, with hair that shines like gold streaked with copper. He held my hand." She cradled her right hand against her chest. "Where he touched me, my skin yet burns."

"Perhaps some cold water would relieve the discomfort." Rebecca combed the curls out of Selene's hair.

Selene laughed. "To soothe my hand or douse my dreams?"

"It is not my place to douse your dreams, Mistress. I just caution you not to lose your heart at first glance. How old is the Prefect?"

"Younger than Father and older than Phillip. He's not decrepit, if that is what you're hinting."

"No. I just find it strange that a man in the prime of life and in such a powerful position has never married. Surely there were opportunities for an advantageous match over the years?" Rebecca pulled the loose hair back and quickly braided it to keep it from tangling during the night. "Is there anything else you require before you retire, Mistress?"

"No, Rebecca. Wake me in the morning, no later than the third hour."

"As you wish, Mistress."

Selene turned Rebecca's words over in her mind as the servant girl exited. It was indeed strange for a man of Orestes' position to be unmarried. Perhaps he had made a vow to the church or had lost a true love. Or maybe he preferred boys. What was this unwanted feeling Orestes stirred in her? How could she find out the truth about him?

What difference would it make, if he were unavailable? Why was she even thinking such things when just that morning she vowed she would remain unmarried? The thought shook Selene out of her romantic reverie.

A sudden restlessness took over her body. Selene picked up the small alabaster oil lamp Rebecca had left burning on her cosmetics table, and left her room. She didn't know where she was going until she found herself before Phillip's door. Light spilled across the threshold. Selene knocked timidly with her foot. "Phillip, are you still awake?"

She heard a groan and a faint, "Come in." Her brother lay face down on his bed, a male slave massaging his body. Lamplight rippled off corded muscles and flowed across brown skin. A faint scar ran up his backbone from his waist to mid-back. As a boy he had fallen from a wall, scraping his back raw. One of Selene's first memories as a toddler was of their mother soothing her brother's pain with a poultice of wet leaves that smelled of mint. Tears stung her eyes. She missed those simpler days, before her mother died and her older brother had gone away to finish his education at the capitol. Phillip turned his bearded face toward her. There were dark circles under his eyes. "What is it, Selene?"

She collapsed on a bench against the wall, scrubbing her face with both hands. "Nothing. I'm just tired, is all. You look exhausted as well. I'll not keep you up." She rose from the bench to leave.

"No, don't go." He reached out to stay her. Selene gave a significant glance at the slave putting away the oil. Phillip nodded. Most people treated servants like pieces of furniture, but Selene knew how the silent shadows gossiped in the kitchens and the marketplace. They provided much information to her.

"Marcus, you may go now. Attend me in the morning," Phillip commanded. The slave bowed as he left the room. Phillip sat up, wrapping a linen sheet around his middle. "Now, little sister, what can I do for you?"

"Just hold me a while." She sat beside him on his bed and nestled into his side, his arms snuggling her close. They sat quietly. Selene's breathing slowed and her eyes drooped. A sudden shift of her brother's body brought her out of a half doze.

She stamped her foot and turned her back on him. He stood and took her by the shoulders, turning her around. "Orestes is a good man, Selene, but he's not the one for you."

"I don't want him! I didn't…I don't want any man. At least not for a long time. I...he just..." Her words stumbled to a stop. She stood in her brother's arms, trembling.