by Albert Noyer
“The bishop continually warned that he would come to a destructive end.” Abinnaeus slipped the hood of his cape over his head. “Let’s bring the physician to his quarters.”
When the two men entered Arcadia’s room, incredibly, Papnouthios’s body was gone. Only a dark stain on the floor marked where saliva had dribbled from his mouth.
Fear edged Abinnaeus’s hoarse exclamation, “Zeus Kassios, there’s the lance still on the floor, the burnt curse-doll! My wife accuses the man of experimenting with Re-animation. What…what new sorcery…what dark magic of his took place?”
Getorius suggested a less supernatural cause, “Slaves must have come and taken his body.”
“Impossible, surgeon, they would avoid being involved. Besides, the small kitchen staff is about all that’s left here.”
“Then let me look around. A urine stain on the seat of Agathe’s chair…the bladder is released during trauma. Her blood is smeared on the floor where she fell and convulsed. Our wardrobe door is open, where Arcadia took out her shoes and cloak, but nothing else is disturbed.” He looked at the governor. “You said Papnouthios lives in a pretorium room when he’s not at the hospital?”
“Yes, the one I pointed out to you. It’s across from the imperial wing where Dorothea and I stay.”
“We should look in there to see if he somehow revived himself, or what occult rituals he practices other than the curse-doll.”
The men retraced their steps to the physician’s room. The door was unlocked, but he was not in the residence. The main apartment was as cold as the rest of the building, yet an unmistakable carrion smell from an adjacent room fouled the air.
“That could be his work area.” Getorius went over to open the door.
Caged animals―a Rhesus monkey, several birds, cats, a mongoose―some dead, were arranged on shelving. The stiff body of Aegis lay at the bottom of a cage labeled with his name. When the surviving creatures saw humans enter, they raised a raucous clamor to be given food.
Appalled at the carnage, Getorius wondered, “What terrible experiments was the man carrying out on these poor creatures?”
“Surgeon, as I said, Dorothea suspects the physician of occult activities.”
Getorius picked up a sheaf on notes near the dead monkey’s cage. “Here, this is written in Greek, headed SALOK. I understand that much, but you could read the rest of the page much more quickly than I.”
“Let me see those.” Abinnaeus translated directly as he read the physician’s descriptions of the poison’s effects on Aegis, the dead simian, and on a mongoose, then paraphrased, “Papnouthios gives this salok a Latin name…antiaris toxicaria. Incredible! He writes here that Shandi told him the poison can be taken internally without harm and proved that by testing it on another monkey.”
“And surely on human victims at the hospital. I don’t understand how it can be possible to safely drink poison, yet that’s exactly what Papnouthios did. He imitated death throes similar to Agathe’s, and then had the good fortune of being left alone while we carried the old woman to her room.”
Abinnaeus said, “He writes that there is an antidote, but Shandi never gave it to him.”
Getorius noted a small wound on Aegis’s haunch. “The poison must enter the body directly through an artery. Of course! That explains the slits I found on the thighs of three dead vagrants at the hospital.” He scanned the medical bottles and jugs on the table. “Where does he store the salok?”
Abinnaeus laid down the notes. “If the physician has left Pelusium, we may never know more about this poison. I suspect he’ll go back to the Moeridis and never be found. Nilus waterways down there are a veritable maze, and people surly toward government. They certainly wouldn’t help a governor locate him.”
“At Pergamum there was an escape tunnel leading from the slaves’ quarters.”
“And surely there’s a Ptolemaic one here for him to utilize. He may have escaped through it while we were in with Agathe…walked away quite literally right under our noses.”
Getorius pulled out several volumes stacked next to the medications. “These books on the occult are about subjects I’ve not considered. Here are writings on Greek, Chaldean, and Persian sorcery methods. Veneficus…poisonous magic, apparitions, necromancy.”
“Eusebios will have all of them burned.”
“You should inform the bishop about the missing Kashat papyrus and what we’ve found here.”
“Yes, Nepheros can arrange a funeral for…. Zeus, what am I saying, he’s gone! I …I’ve allowed my secretary practically to govern this province.”
While you enriched yourself, if what Papnouthios claimed is true. “Nepheros evidently made himself indispensable to Nestorios in civil matters, and perhaps expects some government office as a reward.”
“I’ve never considered my secretary to be particularly ambitious. He always was so…so…deferential, so accommodating. It’s only over the last few days that I’ve discovered the true person, and now his long-planned treachery.”
“In the library, Nepheros read us a passage that Marcus Aurelius wrote about the same evil events repeating themselves through the ages.”
The governor’s response expressed his own cynicism. “I know the passage. It’s a warning for future leaders to take seriously, yet few actually will do so.”
Getorius had worried about Arcadia being left alone with the dead woman. “My wife is still with Agathe’s body. I should go to her, because this Kashat conspiracy may involve others…perhaps even pretorium guards.”
“A valid point,” Abinnaeus conceded. “I’ll stop by the kitchen and get my freedwoman, Karitina, to take your wife’s place. Our Roman State couldn’t function without the work done by both freed persons and slaves. Marcus Aurelius realized that.” He took a last look around the room. “Let’s feed these animals whatever we can find for them, then I suggest that you come with me to the bishop’s while I tell him about the papyrus. Surgeon, you’re also a witness to the unimaginable events of this morning.”
Getorius recognized a command diplomatically phrased as a “suggestion.” Now Arcadia would have to wait a while longer for him to comfort her. Yet has Papnouthios actually fled to his native region near Lake Moeris? Why does the Prefect seem so reluctant to pursue him or his secretary? The physician has accused Abinnaeus of smuggling products from the east and Dorothea of infidelity, both undoubtedly true. Nepheros was sure the prefect had read Pulcheria’s message about a lost account by Saint Joseph that documented the Holy Family’s years in Egypt. What does he know about that diary that he may be keeping secret from me?
CHAPTER XIX
On the cold dawn of that same day, Bishop Eusebios had sent a messenger to Abbot Isidoros at his Monastery of Lychnos. He wrote to him of Patriarch Cyril’s decision to destroy the Kashat papyrus and Nepheros’s offer to be a temporary guardian of the document by securing it in the pretorium library. Despite the inclement weather, Isidoros immediately departed for Pelusium, about an hour’s camel trek away, to consult with the bishop on what should be done about the Patriarch’s command to suppress the papyrus.
* * *
Bishop Eusebios was at prayer in his private chapel when the porter came to tell him of the Abbot’s arrival. He met Isidoros in his library.
Eusebios greeted the abbot and embraced him, “The peace of Christ,”
“And with you, Bishop.” Isidoros pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing a complexion beet-red from cold, a vivid contrast to his white hair and beard. He pulled off woolen gloves to warm numbed fingers at the room’s iron stove. “Bitter weather, Bishop, that we’ve not seen in decades.”
“An omen, do you think?”
“Events will tell. How is my sister, Dorothea?”
Eusebios replied, “In health, Abbot, yet a tragic incident happened since your last visit. That Kushite woman, the prefect’s concubine, was murdered by her brother.”
Isidoros shrugged indifference. “Surely not a great loss
? She was little more than a common harlot and Abinnaeus is the better for it.”
“Spoken like a celibate holy monk, I suppose.”
Isidoros ignored the bishop’s subtle reprimand, turned his back to the stove and faced him. “This Kashat papyrus you spoke of?”
“Yes. My apologies for calling you out in this foul weather, yet the circumstances of the papyrus’s fate are dire. I’m fortunate that Nepheros offered to protect the document and a decision about the Patriarch’s order is out my hands for the moment.”
“You wrote to me that Cyril ordered the document destroyed?”
“The message I received bore his seal.”
Isidoros stepped away from the stove, took off his cloak, and sat down at a table to express concern. “I find this strange behavior on Cyril’s part, ordering the papyrus destroyed without first reading the document. The Patriarch has been a tireless defender of orthodoxy and even issued a number of fraternal warnings to Nestorios before exiling him. Surely, he could deal with this Kashat affair.”
Eusebios sat opposite him. “That is why I wish words with the courier who brought Cyril’s message. The man may be able to apprise us of the Patriarch’s state of mind. If he acted in haste, or anger, Cyril will be grateful for the document’s preservation.”
“Indeed…I have word of the situation at Constantinople,” the abbot digressed. “One of my monks returned to report that an Egyptian, Cyrus of Panopolis, has been sponsored by Empress Eudocia as both city prefect and Pretorian Prefect of the East.”
“A great honor for one of ours, Abbot.”
“Yes, but with its hazards,” he cautioned. “Cyrus’s popularity and the many public acclamations made to him in the hippodrome threaten the prestige of Emperor Theodosius. The relevance and survival of the imperial family is openly questioned in the markets. This predatory eunuch, Chrysaphios Tzumas, continues to foment discord between Eudocia and Pulcheria, all to his own political advantage.”
Eusebios frowned at a possible outcome. “Cyril at Alexandria may use this as an opportunity to separate our Egyptian church from Constantinople’s control. Nestorios could exploit the turmoil by establishing his heresy at Alexandria.” The bishop sighed in frustration. “These are tumultuous events that greatly sadden me. Yesterday, my ancient church was burned by a pagan mob.”
“Your Basilica of the Holy Family?”
“Yes, Abbot, and undoubtedly destroyed in retaliation for closing the Sobek temple.”
Isidoros pushed his chair back and stood up. “I must see the ruins. Have you been able to salvage anything?”
“Darkness and early rain hampered that work, and then I was upset about the courier’s message. Now this unseasonable cold.”
Isidoros slipped on his cloak again and pulled up the hood. “Get your cape, Bishop. We can make a quick inspection before the courier arrives.”
At the site of the burned church, rain had extinguished any wood beams that remained smoldering. A damp paste of black and gray ash soiled the shoes and cloak hems of the two churchmen.
Isidoros trembled with righteous fury as he picked up the scorched icon of Saint Mark―the apostle’s blackened image was barely visible. “Pagan swine….this is an outrage that cannot go unpunished. What does the Prefect intend to do?”
“Do?” Eusebios made a hand gesture of impotence. “Abinnaeus closed the Sobek temple and you see the disastrous results all around you.”
The abbot brushed damp soot from his hands and looked toward the crypt. “Was anything preserved of your holy relics? The Virgin’s palla? That glass phial of her milk? Your congregation would be devastated at their loss.”
Eusebios shrugged. “True, I did permit those to be venerated, yet The Crucified One warned against needing ‘signs and wonders’.”
“The faithful are simple souls, Bishop, not theologians.”
“No.” Eusebios glanced around at the destroyed church. “The ancient cypress-wood floor of the apse has collapsed into the crypt. Last evening the beams still smoldered, so I was unable to assess the total damage to the oldest basilica in Pelusium.”
Isidoros recalled, “Upriver, at the Roman fort, the presbyter at Saint Sergius claims to have the most ancient church building in Egypt. I have never agreed with him.”
“Nor have I, Abbot. Since Pelusium was the first stop in Egypt for the Holy Family, why would the most ancient church not be here? That Eucharist table in the crypt is fashioned of wood, not stone, just as in the early days.” Eusebios turned his back to the wind to glance at a sky of gray storm clouds scudding in from the northwest. “When this weather improves, Paulos and I shall go down and search for anything salvageable.”
Isidoros picked his way through scorched rubble to the charred storage cabinet. “Your books and documents were destroyed?”
“For the most part, yet I kept the Kashat papyrus stored in my strongbox. The Latin woman had wondered if I would put it with the ancient texts.”
“Yes, the couple from Ravenna whom I met.” Isidoros shivered, glanced at an overcast sky, and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “What is their opinion of our November weather? Are they in health?”
“The poor woman contracted puretos fever. Ah…” Eusebios pointed along the street. “There is the Latin surgeon with Abinnaeus now, but…but I don’t see Nepheros or a courier coming with them.” He frowned at another absence. “Nor…nor Deacon Paulos, for that matter.”
The governor and Getorius greeted Eusebios and Isidoros, then bowed to the churchmen and kissed their rings of ecclesiastical office.
Impatient at not seeing a messenger with them, the bishop quickly drew his hand away. “Prefect, I ordered my deacon to awaken the courier and bring him here. The man may sleep away the afternoon, but I want him here now.”
Abinnaeus shook his head. “Holiness, no courier arrived. Nepheros has betrayed all of us.”
“‘No courier?’ ‘Betrayed’? Prefect, you speak as from inside a labyrinth…” Euserbius turned to Getorius. “Surgeon, where is the secretary? The Kashat document?”
“Holiness, we’ve just discovered that Nepheros forged the papyrus. With the help of Papnouthios, he hid it inside the mummy and―”
“No, no, I…I saw Nepheros last evening,” Eusebios interrupted, unwilling to hear more. “He…he brought me a vellum with the Patriarch’s seal. I was ordered to destroy the papyrus.”
Getorius told him,“Cyril’s message also was forged by the secretary.”
Perhaps finally understanding what had happened, Eusebios trembled from emotion as he crossed himself. “Let…let us move out of the wind, to the shelter of that still-standing wall.”
A confused Isidoros tried to unravel what he had heard. “Prefect, the Bishop told me that he gave Nepheros the papyrus. You’ve detained him, of course?”
Abinnaeus gave a pained shake of his head. “Abbot, my secretary…former secretary…is on his way to Alexandria. He intends to pass on the document to Nestorios.”
“Nestorios?” Isidoros felt as numb at a confirmation he dreaded as from the cold. “Rumors that travelers brought to Lychnos then are true? The heretic has escaped exile?”
Getorius said, “And is presumably on his way to Alexandria, if he has not already arrived there.”
The abbot accosted Abinnaeus as he would one of his delinquent monks. “Prefect, what are you doing about this? How will you rectify your secretary’s treachery?”
Hunched against the blackened wall, the governor stammered a lame response. “Abbot, the…the man rode all night. Nepheros has a…a twelve-hour start.”
“Scandalous!” Isidoros’s eyes narrowed in righteous anger. “How has this secretary been able to blindfold you all these years?”
“I…I trusted him.”
“Trust?” The abbot’s retort was smug. “Prefect, a common saying suggests that wise distrust is the parent of security.”
Getorius saw no point in their continued arguing about blame. “Bishop, it’s get
ting quite cold out here. Based on what you just learned, you and the abbot should go inside and determine a course of action.”
Eusebios mumbled a thought he dreaded to complete, “Should Nestorios be able to rally his followers at Alexandria….”
Getorius tried to reassure him. “With respect, Holiness, as fishermen at Ravenna say, ‘Gut no fish before you catch them’. Anything could happen to the heretic and our traitor before they are able to meet together at Alexandria.”
“The surgeon is correct,” Isidoros concurred. “Bishop, trusting in the mercy of The Crucified One, you and I will go to your chapel and pray for an auspicious outcome to this matter.”
“I should get back to my wife, Getorius said. “Arcadia has had no time to recover from the shock of these events. Bishop, you didn’t realize that her life was threatened with death by Papnouthios’s assistant, did you? The physician simulated his own demise and evidently has left Pelusium.”
“This is too much…all decency has…has fled humankind!” Eusebios swayed as if about to faint. Getorius and the abbot grasped the churchman’s arms to steady him, but he recovered and shook them off. “Gratias, I’m well. I’m well. Yes, we must deal with the Kashat document, which at Alexandria is not yet known to be false.”
“Holiness”―Abinnaeus looked around the wall and pointed along the street―“As I ordered, I see your deacon returning with Skoros. Question the man outside of confession and then hold him in your custody. And there is the need of a funeral for Agathe and the…the Kushite woman.”
“Prefect, I shall attend to both,” Eusebios told him in a tone of impatient annoyance, then turned to Getorius. “Surgeon, go to your wife. Dorothea came to me for absolution a day ago, yet she also needs her husband’s consoling.”
Abinnaeus chafed at the reprimand, but motioned for Getorius to leave with him.
* * *
Getorius had looked first in their room for his wife, then, alarmed at her absence, hurried to Agathe’s lodgings in the slave quarters. Arcadia was still there with Karitina.
