Selene of Alexandria (53 page)

She also refused to marry outside her faith, causing him no end of heartache.

Phillip sauntered to the entrance of the family tomb. He leaned his forehead against a smooth white marble column. "Father, what would you advise? Should I stay in Alexandria? Should I fight to restore our family to prominence?"

Cyril's triumph guaranteed it would be an enormously difficult task. If Phillip stayed in Alexandria, his sister would be alone in the world, an exile, and he would have to forgo Rebecca's love. Calistus had always demanded much of his oldest son and Phillip felt he disappointed more often than he pleased. "I know our family name was important to you, Father, but I don't think you want a life of exile and lovelessness for your children."

Looking around the cemetery, Phillip came to a decision. He would take Selene, Rebecca and her brother Aaron to Judea. Away from the city of his birth, Phillip could flout the Imperial law against Christians converting to Judaism. With the small portion left from paying off his father's debts and the generous gift from Orestes, they could start over.

He would study to become a Jew. He and Rebecca would be married.

Phillip let out a whoop, disturbing the bedraggled feasters. As they looked at him with suspicion, he shouted, "Raise a cup of beer to me. I'm going to be married!"

Several tentatively lofted their cups and gave a ragged cheer. He left them the gift of food, dishes, and baskets and hurried away to tell Rebecca of his decision.

As he neared the cemetery exit, Phillip spied a familiar figure – an athletic older man with heavily lined face followed by several servants with baskets. "Lysis?"

Antonius' father squinted at Phillip then brightened when he recognized his old friend's son. "Phillip, my boy, how good to see you."

Phillip smelled the rich aroma of roasted lamb and the biting tang of pickled pork. "I see the beggars will eat well today. I just left a feast of bread and fowl."

"Yes, I imagine they fared poorly during Orestes' martial law." Lysis' face became shadowed. "This is the first time I've been able to visit my son's tomb, since his hasty interment. I want to give him a true funeral feast."

A baby cried and one of the servants quickly hushed the child.

"Antonius' son?"

"Yes. A lusty boy." The old man's shoulder's straightened as he said with pride. "Ision and his money be damned. Honorius will grow up a credit to our family. I'll see to that."

The baby howled, probably in hunger. The child's cry tugged at something inside Phillip. He suddenly thrilled at the thought of children of his own. Rebecca would be a wonderful mother. He needed to get home quickly.

Phillip clasped the older man's arm. "I'll not keep you from your mission. Good fortune to you and the child."

Selene cursed her splinted limb as she tried to fold a robe one-handed. Two months with her arm in a sling tried her small store of patience. She dreaded the thought of another full month before she regained the full use of her hand.

Selene's few possessions lay scattered across her bed in Orestes' suite: some clothes, an extra pair of sandals, a sturdy cloak, her mother's jewelry, her medical bag and three precious volumes of texts. She glanced anxiously into the sitting room, realized it was still early, and returned to her task. Selene finished sorting just as Demetrius arrived with visitors.

"Phillip!" She ran to her brother, then spied another standing behind him. "Rebecca! I'm so happy we get to say goodbye."

"You know I could never let you leave without seeing you one last time." Rebecca's lips trembled. "You don't have to do this alone you know. Please come with us to Judea."

Selene had promised herself no tears at this parting. But moisture leaked from the corners of her eyes. She sniffed and dashed the unwanted tears away with the back of her good hand.

Both put arms around Selene and escorted her to the sitting room. Demetrius discreetly stayed behind to attend her packing.

"You aren't going to make this easy, are you?"

"Did you expect us to let you go into the world alone without a fight?" Phillip put a protective arm around Rebecca and said solemnly, "We have enough from father's estate and Orestes' gift to purchase a small farm or business. You can practice medicine in Judea as well as anyplace else."

Rebecca took Selene's hand in both of hers. "We want you to come with us. We are going to a new place, where none know us. We can tell others you are my sister, for that is what you truly are."

"Oh, no, Rebecca," Selene cried. "I love you both and would not let such a thing come between us, ever!" She shook her head. "This has only to do with me, not you."

"Is it Orestes?" Phillip's face brightened. "Are you going with him?"

"No. Orestes has chosen a different path. One, I fear, that will lead to his destruction."

"My friend has changed much in the past weeks." Phillip sighed. "He keeps me at a distance and has relieved me of all my duties. He's been generous in providing me with letters and references to his acquaintances in Judea. I had held out some hope he might care for you in your exile."

Rebecca added, "Orestes does not look well."

Selene nodded, worry lines creasing her forehead. "Grief eats his heart and failure his soul. He won't let anyone comfort him, but tries to bear all his pain alone. He is resigning his office and retiring to his estates in Gaul. I fear for his health and peace of mind."

"That does not explain your refusal to join us," Phillip said.

Selene walked to the window and looked across the lush garden, warm sunshine bathing her face. Just a short time ago, nothing could have driven her from her home, but so much happened. So many deaths. There was nothing to hold her to this city except fear of the unknown and that held little terror for her in the wake of the last several months. Instead, the unknown future beckoned with possibility. She needed to move on, but exchanging the deserts of Egypt for those of Judea did not appeal to her. She turned back to her brother and her heart's sister.

"I want to leave this part of the world. I want to see other lands, perhaps touch snow or trek through a forest. I am free now to do as I wish. Besides, Nicaeus deserves to know the truth about what happened here. I'll go first to his post on the Thracian border. Write to him when you're settled and I will get the word. Then…" she shrugged, brave words masking a tremulous doubt "…maybe Constantinople, maybe Londinium."

"Oh, no, Selene," Rebecca cried. "Not so far away as that?"

Phillip gathered Selene in his arms, but did not argue. "When you are ready to stop wandering, come to us," he whispered in her hair. "We wouldn't want our children to grow up never knowing their aunt."

Rebecca joined the embrace, tears streaming. "Stay safe, sister, and remember you will always have a home with us."

Selene wandered the empty rooms restlessly. Movement still soothed her. She would never attain Hypatia's serenity. Her teacher could sit for hours working out a math problem or writing a treatise on the stars. The memory sent a sharp pain through her chest. Sometimes the sense of loss throbbed like an open wound, but more and more often lately, it felt duller, subdued, distant.

Someone cleared his throat.

Selene turned, a shy smile crossing her face. "Orestes, it's good of you to see me off." Even though Demetrius had concocted a story about a new mistress, any servant with half an eye knew Orestes rarely visited her and then only for a few moments, occasionally, before he went to his office.

At first Selene had not minded. Her arm caused her pain and she considered her bruised face and body ugly. She needed time and solitude to heal. But as the weeks went by, Orestes continued to be politely correct to her, refused to confide his own pain and loss. Selene concluded he was too deeply wounded for her to heal. A wound of the body, she could treat, but curing this sickness of the soul eluded her.

Orestes handed Selene a packet of papers. "I've prepared travel documents, drafts on my personal accounts for funds, and letters of introduction to important people in Constantinople attesting to your medical skills. I've said you are a freedwoman so your station more befits your profession. My acquaintances can help you set up a practice or gain a position in one of the hospitals for women."

Selene set the papers aside without looking at them. "Have you nothing else to say to me?"

Orestes looked stricken. He dropped to one knee, took her hand and bowed his head over it. His voice came harsh and halting. "I hope, my dear Selene, you can find it in your heart to forgive me someday."

Confused, Selene dropped to the floor in front of him and looked into his face, eyes wide. "For what? You've been a steadfast champion and firm friend to my family."

"I underestimated Cyril from the beginning. I thought him young, inexperienced, without support in the Church." His eyes filmed with tears. "Had I been more astute, you and your family would be secure in your home. Had I been more able, Hypatia might be alive today."

"You did what you thought best at the time. Whether your actions hastened or retarded Cyril's success, we have no way of knowing. I don't need to forgive you, Orestes. You need to forgive yourself. I fear for you, if you don't."

His shoulders shook with stifled sobs. Selene prayed her words helped heal his heart. He collected himself, rose and helped Selene to her feet. She looked deeply into his eyes, and saw only bitterness and self-loathing – no self-forgiveness. Regret for what might have been and sadness at her failure – and his – pervaded her soul.

Orestes clasped her to his chest. She clung to his strong body and sheltering arms. He stepped away from her, echoing her thoughts, "If only things had been different..."

Knowing there was nothing more she could do, Selene touched his haggard face and whispered, "I hope you find peace, my friend."

"Maybe…in time." He clasped her hand in both of his, his sight turning inward. "I have a strange feeling we will meet again, Selene. My mother's people were renowned as seers. Maybe I see truly."

"I hope so."

Without tears, she retrieved her hand. Selene gave Orestes a final smile, turned and walked through the door without looking back.

*****

Author's Note

Hypatia, Cyril, Orestes, Hierex, Archdeacon Timothy, Ammonius, and the presbyter Peter did exist and participate in these events, although I used "literary license" in portraying their physical appearance, dialog and the details of their relationships. Selene, her family, friends and servants are entirely fictitious. I created them to show how the decisions and actions of the powerful are played out in ordinary people's lives. All the major events – the riots leading up to Cyril's affirmation, the consolidation of the Christians, the Jewish trap and consequent expulsion, the attack on Orestes, and Hypatia's murder – as well as many minor events, are documented..

I first came across this fascinating story of ambition, power, and political assassination in 1980 while attending Judy Chicago's groundbreaking feminist art exhibit "The Dinner Party" where Hypatia, the Lady Philosopher of Alexandria, had a "plate." Captured by the inherent drama of Hypatia's life and death, I embarked on a journey to bring her story to modern readers. During the next seventeen years I haunted libraries, bookstores, and the internet looking for more material to fill out the sketchy and conflicting details available.

Hypatia had captured the imaginations of many before me and had become a metaphor in literature for the brilliance of the Classical Age and depravity of the coming Dark Ages. Most stories painted a legend of a beautiful, virginal, young woman cut down by fanatical monks. She was particularly popular in the Age of Enlightenment.

In 1720, the Protestant John Toland published an essay titled
Hypatia or, the History of a Most Beautiful, Most Virtuous, Most Learned, and in Every Way Accomplished Lady; Who Was Torn to Pieces by the Clergy of Alexandria, to Gratify the Pride, Emulation, and Cruelty of the Archbishop, Commonly but Undeservedly Titled St. Cyril
. Ecclesiastic circles responded with a pamphlet by Thomas Lewis called
The History of Hypatia, A Most Impudent School-Mistress of Alexandria. In Defense of Saint Cyril and the Alexandrian Clergy from the Aspersions of Mr. Toland.

In recent times Hypatia has evolved into a feminist icon; a woman mathematician and scientist celebrated for her rationality and intelligence, destroyed by superstitious, barbarous men. She appears in several biographies of women in science and mathematics as well as more light-hearted tomes such as
Uppity Women of Ancient Times
by Vicki Leon where she is described as "The world's first martyr to mathematics."

Sorting through the hyperbole, I found a compelling voice in the work of Maria Dzielska, a Polish classical scholar. Ms. Dzielska does a masterful job in reviewing the literary heritage of Hypatia's story and going to primary sources to present a more realistic and much less biased historical picture in
Hypatia of Alexandria
, translated by F. Lyra and published by Harvard University Press in 1995. It's her version of Hypatia's life that I have expressed in this work. Without Ms. Dzielska's meticulous research, this would be a very different book.

Cyril appears in the record as a Machiavellian character more enamored of power than of God. His contemporaries laud his political acumen. His earliest acts were to eliminate those factions that opposed his appointment including other Christian sects and the Jews. Having read translations of his letters and speeches, I chose to show his motivation rooted in a true religious experience.