Selene of Alexandria (42 page)

"Hierex, what interest does the Patriarch have in this case?" Orestes asked.

Selene started. What possible connection could the teacher she had heard so much about have with this matter?

"Why, none, sir." Hierex held his hands palm up in a gesture of openness and trust. "I am here as friend and spiritual counselor to Ision and his family. I just happened to know the whereabouts of Melania and volunteered the information."

"That seems rather convenient."

Hierex shrugged.

"In the absence of any concrete proof of wrongdoing, I allow both Antonius and Selene to return to their families; however, Selene will refrain from practicing her profession. The child, Honorius Posthumous, will remain with Ision and his family until final disposition of this case. I ask that neither of the accused parties leave Alexandria. Their fathers will hold surety for their presence." Orestes rose from his desk. "You will be summoned when I have obtained the person of, or a sworn statement from, midwife Melania. Until such time, this inquiry remains open."

Demetrius went to the door and opened it. The families filed out in carefully spaced clumps. Selene, supporting her father, left last. She glanced over her shoulder to see Orestes frowning over his notes.

Selene could not count on her family's relationship with the Prefect. Her fate rested on the word of one woman.

Orestes looked up when Demetrius returned. "That hearing turned into a viper's nest. Who do you believe?"

"They all have motives." Demetrius shrugged. "The curial class has been hit hard by the local cycle of draughts. The grain taxes do not abate because of poor crops. The two young people could have conspired to gain control of Honoria's dowry. On the other hand, Ision is tight with his money and might bring a specious charge to get the dowry back."

"I agree. This case has too many opinions and too little evidence. Discounting slaves and servants, there were only three witnesses to the death, and two of those are under suspicion. Urbib's testimony was most damning, but he examined the body after the surgery."

"The man is a prominent physician, but well known for his political astuteness. He personally approached the Patriarch and begged to be converted from Judaism to Christianity immediately after the riots," Demetrius quietly observed. "And it is well known Urbib has taken a personal dislike to Selene since he declared her father as good as dead, and she nursed him back to health. Calistus' very presence is a rebuke to his professional competence. Selene saved the child and again put doubts in people's minds as to his value. His testimony is not without its own taint."

"Yes." Orestes stroked his chin. "If it were anyone other than Selene, I might rule in Ision's favor. The circumstances are most suspicious." He shook his head. "I can't imagine Selene at the center of such a cold-hearted plan. I know her family and I know her. She's bold and impulsive, but a murderer? No."

Again Demetrius shrugged. "Who knows the heart of a young woman? Many crimes have been committed in the name of passion. Maybe it wasn't planned. Perhaps she saw an opportunity to rid herself of a rival and took it."

Orestes stood, leaving the notes for Demetrius to order and put away. "I don't believe that, either. There is opportunism at work here, but it is not Selene's. We must talk to the midwife Melania." He paused, leaning on the table. "Another question: Why was Hierex here? I confess I see no advantage to Cyril with either outcome."

"That is a cunning puzzle. Perhaps we look too deeply. Possibly Hierex is only a friend of the family and spiritual advisor."

"It is too much a coincidence that Melania is affiliated with the church and conveniently out of the way for this hearing." Orestes snorted. "There is some deeper game here. I intend to find out what. I need someone I can trust to find Midwife Melania." He looked directly at his slave. "Will you undertake the commission, Demetrius?"

"Of course, Master." Demetrius bowed and began tidying the room.

Orestes started for the door then turned back. "Take an escort and leave first thing in the morning."

Chapter 33

It had been many years since Demetrius ventured outside the city walls and many more since he rode a horse. His duties and inclinations kept him firmly in government buildings. Regular exercise kept him trim, but riding strained muscles rarely used and chafed areas he didn't know could be chafed.

Within an hour, his thighs burned and cramped. He suffered the rough humor of the two guards who served as his escort as he squirmed in his saddle and tried to ride one leg then the other crossed in front. When they reached the solid walls of the Convent of Isaiah rising out of the rocky desert, Demetrius sent a prayer heavenward for his deliverance. The stone walls were blank, except for one high arch indicating the position of a small door – the only entrance he could discern. He dismounted and collapsed against his horse. The blasted animal skittered away as the guards grinned at his discomfort.

Demetrius limped to the door and pulled a rope hanging nearby. A sweet bell chimed in a small parapet above the entrance. A head sporting an excessive beard and bald pate poked out of the parapet window then disappeared. Demetrius heard the unmistakable sounds of the gate being unbarred, and the door swung open.

The gatekeeper looked with pity as Demetrius limped inside. "Good sir, did you come to commission healing prayers for your affliction?"

Demetrius' mouth pursed as if sucking a lemon. "No, I've come seeking a penitent woman, one Melania, most recently a midwife in Alexandria. I was told she came to this convent. It is most urgent that I speak with her."

The gatekeeper sucked his teeth and shook his head. "I will see what I can do. Please come to our guesthouse for some refreshment."

Demetrius motioned to the two guards, who dismounted with practiced ease and led the horses inside to a low shed containing feed and water. On the way to the guesthouse, Demetrius noted with surprise that men and women worked an olive press, baked bread at a communal oven and tended palm trees and gardens. In addition to the expected churches, refectory and sleeping cells, Demetrius spied a granary and a mill. The monks and sisters likely produced other necessities such as cloth and paper. A drawbridge from the parapet on the wall led to a keep; a final retreat if enemies attacked. When he thought about it, it made sense that the inhabitants should do as much for themselves as possible. The next town was hours away and the villagers surely could not support the growing population of the monasteries.

At the guesthouse, the gatekeeper settled them in a cool, comfortable room, provided them with water, left and soon returned with a middle-aged woman in black robes. "This is Helaine. She is in charge of the sisters." The lady's face was saved from plainness by striking blue eyes that sparkled with kindness and good humor.

The gatekeeper returned to his duties.

"Mistress Helaine, I am Demetrius, a personal agent of the Augustal Prefect. I've come to find and question the midwife Melania about a matter most grave. Can you assist me in my mission?"

"I'm afraid I have bad news for you, good sir. Mistress Melania left here after only a few days. She said Patriarch Cyril had asked her to visit the desert convents and attend to the health of the cloistered sisters. She traveled on when all who required her services had been tended."

Demetrius tried to keep disappointment from his face. This mission was becoming more than a simple interview. "Dear Lady, have you any notion of Melania's destination?"

Helaine shrugged. "The next monastery is but a few hours' ride. You can reach it by nightfall." A series of bells sounded outside the guesthouse. She glanced out the door, then back to Demetrius. "You and your escort are welcome to join us for noon meal. It is simple fare, naught but water, bread and onions preceded, of course, by the nourishing words of God."

Demetrius saw grimaces crossing the faces of his escort and briefly entertained the notion of staying. Instead, he rose to take his leave. The movement sent a shooting pain from his buttocks down the back of his legs. He drew a sharp breath and grabbed the back of his chair.

One of the guards caught his elbow to steady him and said in a kinder voice than Demetrius expected, "Perhaps we should stay and let you recover from your journey."

"No. Being still stiffens me. I'll recover once we're moving." Demetrius turned to Helaine. "Thank you for your offer of hospitality, but the sooner we move, the sooner we find Melania and complete our mission."

They both bowed. Demetrius and his escort headed for the gate. They gnawed hard journey bread on the way to the next monastery, and arrived shortly before sunset.

Melania was not there.

Orestes arrived at Hypatia's public lecture just in time to hear an angry man protest, "God created the earth and set the sun and moon orbiting about it in the sky. Who is this pagan Aristarchos who says differently?"

"A learned Alexandrine mathematician and astronomer who lived over 600 years ago," Hypatia replied. "The Bible tells us only that God created the heavens and earth. It doesn't tell us in what configuration He arranged them. God could have just as easily set the earth to spin around the sun."

Angry mutters broke out in the crowd. Orestes admitted sympathy with the dissenters. It comforted him to think the sun, moon and stars revolved around the earth – that God set the heavens in motion and kept them firmly in place.

"My father Theon came across Aristarchos' work and made confirming observations. The calculations are quite compelling. I think the prevailing belief has more to do with politics than science. The vain human desire to believe ourselves the center of the universe clouds the truth." Hypatia concluded, "I will entertain discussion on this topic at my home Tuesday next."

Men clustered, arguing vigorously about the merits of the hypothesis. Those with more mathematical training shouted to Hypatia for sources as she left the lectern.

"If you wish to see the original treatise, it is in the Library. My father Theon also published commentaries on the mathematics."

Thinking about the earth spinning through a vast empty space around the sun, Orestes experienced a sense of vertigo. He looked at his feet. The ground felt unmoving.

Orestes shook himself free of the reverie and moved through the crowd. Men bowed and gave way. He acknowledged several city officials and councilors as he approached Hypatia. "Lady, I need your advice on a less celestial matter."

"My pleasure." She bowed gravely to Orestes then dismissed the others crowding about her. Hypatia linked arms with him. "Shall we retire to my rooms or stroll the gardens?"

"Fresh air suits my needs admirably." He smiled. "Do you actually believe the earth and other planets race around the sun?"

"My observations of the heavens are consistent with Aristarchos' theories, though few here will concur." Weariness settled on her face. "Sometimes I feel the great scientific thinkers are all in our past."

Orestes indicated the vast complex of buildings and grounds of the Caesarion. "It takes patronage to maintain such an institution. The Ptolemaic Pharaohs built this for their own aggrandizement."

"But they did the world an incalculable service in collecting the Great Library and sponsoring so many scholars. And now the Church sponsors the scholarship. I'm one of the last non-Christians with a public chair." Hypatia learned on Orestes' arm. "I can't help thinking I live in the twilight of this great age of learning."

They walked past meticulously maintained hedges and beds of both native and exotic flowers, to a shady retreat under two massive date palms overlooking the harbor. Hypatia sat on a stone bench. Orestes sprawled at her feet, hands behind his head, looking up at the azure sky through the palm leaves. He laughed. "My staff would be most surprised to see me like this. They think I eat spikes for breakfast and spit them at clerks for exercise."

"Perhaps you are too hard on them?"

"I don't ask them to do anything I don't ask of myself. I live and breathe my office. They, at least, go home to families and entertain friends. I have many allies who will make common cause with me, but few approach me with a true face and open heart. I count my friends on one hand, and you are first among them."

"I'm honored by your trust, and hope my advice serves you well."

Orestes rolled onto his stomach and looked up Hypatia. "How fares your student Selene? I cannot inquire directly of her family without it seeming prejudicial to my neutrality."

"Are you neutral in this case?" Hypatia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I believe I can make a fair judgment on the evidence."

"I visited Selene two days ago." Hypatia gazed out at the boats in the harbor and sighed. "She seemed worn and distracted. She has worked herself too hard since her illness and I fear a relapse."

"Could guilt be contributing to her decline?" Orestes asked coolly. "Do you feel there is any merit to the charges?"

"At the risk of disturbing your neutrality, I will say with the utmost conviction that Selene is incapable of such a heinous deed." Hypatia smiled gently. "I've known her father since his youth and Selene for three years as my student. I've looked into the girl's soul."

"Given the opportunity to save her father through the death of a friend, would she take it?"

"Never." Hypatia's voice rang with conviction. "She would consider such a deed the ultimate betrayal of her family."

"She has grown from the naive girl I first met at her father's house into a remarkable young woman." Orestes paused. "But this midwife must corroborate her story or I will be forced to bring charges and hold her and possibly Antonius for a capital judgment."

"But conviction of capital crimes means death!"

"The mildest punishment would be to sew both conspirators into a sack, weight it with lead and throw them into the river to drown." The lines on Orestes face deepened. "Given the nature of Honoria's death, Ision would likely demand they be disemboweled alive and their entrails burnt."