by Albert Noyer
Loud rapping on the door interrupted Getorius's musing. He opened the portal to see an agitated Herakles waiting the hallway.
"Asterios, I have message from Apollonios. You are to come to the Asklepion."
"This early? Did he give a reason?"
"An accident it seems."
Awakened by the voices, Arcadia sat up. "Getorius, what is it?"
He called back to her, "Herakles said some mishap occured at the shrine. Apollonios wants me to come there."
"Then I'm coming, too. Let me put on a tunic and wash my face."
Herakles heard and whispered, "Asterios, it is not good that she join you."
"Will you tell Arcadia that? No, if it's a medical matter, I want her with me. Strange, though, Apollonios is a physician, so why would he need me?" Getorius bent to pull on his boots. "Fine, we'll meet you in the atrium."
When he and Arcadia came in, Brisios was waiting with the guide.
Herakles said, "Your slave wishes to come with us. Kalos, he may be of use."
Arcadia recalled, "He did warn us of that riot at Constantinople."
Getorius turned to his slave. "Very well, Brisios. After I see what Apollonios wants, the three of us might explore the old acropolis. After sitting idle in carriages for so long, a walk up there would do us good."
To reach the Sacred Way Herakles led the group around the necropolis and past the charred wreckage of Thekla's basilica. Vendors on the arcaded street in front of the shrine called out to by-passers, offering pagan and Christian votives. The guide fended off several fortune-tellers and dream interpreters who tried to accost his well-dressed companions.
"More purveyors of hope?" Getorius remarked.
"Asterios, may your God grant that you are never as desperate as those who come here for cures."
"True," Getorius mumbled, regretting an inappropriate attempt at sarcasm.
A gathering of early pilgrims at the entrance to the Asklepion grumbled resentment at temple guards barring their way. Herakles spotted Aristides and called to him. The priest spoke to a guard, who opened the gate a short distance.
Inside the forecourt, Getorius asked Aristides, "Why did Apollonios send for me?"
"It is the gross woman who was here last evening. She disobeyed warnings and suffered the consequences."
"Basina Bobo?" Arcadia asked. "Is she injured?"
Aristides pointed toward the dormitories. "Over there. The Physician will explain."
Except for those who had slept in the incubation rooms, the shrine complex was void of visitors. Patients from the women's building had gathered at the far end of a wall that surrounded the dormitories. They whispered among themselves, looking toward the mud pool that Apollonios had warned about in his talk at the theater.
Getorius saw the physician there, unkempt, with his immaculate hair tousled as if he had been abruptly awakened and had no time to groom himself. He talked with two slaves standing near a muddy human form lying on the ground.
The physician warned Basina, but surely the woman herself knew better than to bathe at night, Getorius thought, apprehensive that it yet might be her. He gripped his wife's arm as he came to the rock-enclosed pool and gasped on recognizing the mud-spattered face. "It is Flavius's wife!"
The nude, slime-coated body of Basina Bobo lay face-up on the trampled grass next to the bath. A trail of greenish mud marked where she had been dragged out of the pool and placed on the ground. Matted gray hair fell in strands around the dead woman's coarse features. Her enormous breasts resembled muddy replicas of the purple vegetable Herakles had called melidzanes.
"Horrible!" Arcadia shuddered and turned to Apollonios. "Sir, how could this happen?"
The physician glared at the woman's intrusion, before Getorius explained, "This is Arcadia, my wife."
Apollonios grunted acknowledgement, then waved the slaves away. "Domina, this was surely an accident. Last evening patients were admonished not to enter our facilities without attendants. Your husband heard me."
"True," Getorius confirmed. "May I examine her body?"
Apollonius affected a smirk. "Why? Aristotle taught that the dead have nothing to teach the living."
"Yet, I believe they do." Getorius knelt to roll Basina's fleshy torso onto its side and looked at her back. The mud pool and night air had been cold, probably retarding rigor mortis. "Who found her?"
"Aristides, a short while ago, when he went to consult with patients about their dreams."
Getorius looked for the priest and saw him now at the Temple of Hygeia. "Was Basina face up, as if bathing?"
Apollonios coughed sputum into a cloth before replying, "I...I suppose so."
"And Aristides pulled her out?"
Again the condescending smirk. "Of course not, we have slaves for such tasks."
"Tasks? Do you have many like this at the Asklepion?" Getorius kept the body from rolling back with one hand and said with less sarcasm, "Basina could not have been face up because her back is relatively clean." He indicated the woman's shoulder and buttocks before standing. "No, she was face down in the pool. Under that mud her face, breasts, and lower body are a wine color where blood settled. Examine her nostrils and mouth for further proof."
Apollonios hesitated, then held his tunic aside with a hand and bent to peer at the woman. Basina's facial muscles had begun to stiffen. "No need," he said, straightening. "You've reasoned accurately. I assumed she would be face up."
"The way you assumed I wasn't a competent surgeon?"
"Poor woman," Arcadia quickly interjected to deflect a quarrel. "That means someone pushed her into the mud and held her down until she suffocated."
Getorius agreed. "That would not be difficult with someone as corpulent."
Shaken at the evidence of a murder, Apollonios stammered, "Who would so profane this sacred shrine?"
Standing nearby, Herakles asked, "Where is her slave? Perhaps last night Hermias again brawled with his mistress."
"A possibility," Getorius said, but realized that Flavius Bobo had more reason to want his wife dead. "Has anyone notified Basina's husband? Apollonios, why isn't he here?"
"He slept in the men's dormitory, yet hasn't been found...Surgeon."
So, Apollonios, I'm a surgeon now.
Aristides walked from the small temple with a sickly grin on his pallid face. He held up a straw hat. "Physician, I found this by Hygeia's temple. The husband wore it last evening."
Getorius confirmed his words. "It does belong to Flavius. Basina made fun of his wearing the hat and jested that he looked like a peasant."
"May I?" Arcadia examined the straw. "Getorius, this right side is pushed in, the straw broken as if some heavy object crushed it."
He fingered the indented area. "And these brownish stains are blood. It seems that the Bobos' slave took revenge on both of his owners."
Brisios came out of the dormitory and hurried to the pool. "Master, I looked inside the woman's room. Her medicine case is on the floor, broken, with jars scattered around."
Apollonios was florid. "How dare your slave meddle? Valuables might have been taken."
"Brisios wouldn't steal anything," Arcadia retorted. "What else did you see?"
"Mistress, I talked to the dormitory slaves. They were too frightened to go into the room."
"Then," Getorius reasoned, "Hermias destroyed Basina's medications in a fit of rage."
Apollonios sputtered, "When he's found, I'll see that he's condemned to the mines on Chios!"
"Sir," Getorius pointed out, "you have two murders here. A magistrate will decide his punishment."
Apollonios calmly smoothed back his hair. "This is a sacred precinct. I will not allow civil authorities to investigate my shrine."
"What do you mean?"
"My priests and I will decide on what to report about this accident."
"Accident? You can begin by searching for the body of Flavius Bobo and finding Hermias."
Brisios held out a bronze disk. "Master, th
is was on the floor."
Getorius recognized the metal band. "It's the slave collar Hermias wore under his tunic. Here's his name and a reward promised if he escapes and is returned."
"It's cut through in back," Arcadia noted.
"Leaving it with the smashed medicine case was his final act of defiance. Recall that Basina complained that Hermias had injured her shoulder and wanted Flavius to punish him. Something worse must have happened last evening."
Arcadia ran her finger over the jagged cut metal of the band, then led her husband aside. "Hermias isn't the only one who might want Basina dead. Throughout this voyage she's continually humiliated Herakles."
"A possibility? At the pool he quickly suggested that Hermias might have quarreled with her." Getorius looked for the guide, who had gone to speak to the dormitory women. "He's certainly clever enough to throw suspicion off himself."
"Herakles brings people here all the time," Arcadia said. "He knows the Asklepion and can move around without being noticed or challenged."
"Yet he doesn't seem vindictive, Arcadia. And why murder her husband, too? You weren't here, but Basina ridiculed Apollonios several times at the theater last evening. He most easily could make her death appear 'accidental'."
"Yet he would risk exactly the scandal he's facing now."
"You heard the Great Physician say how easily he handles such problems internally."
"True." Arcadia studied the collar again. "Could we talk about Hermias away from Apollonios?"
Getorius looked around. "There's a spring nearest the tunnel leading to that sanitarium building. "Let's go there. I'd like to wash my hands. Brisios, come with us."
At the fountain Getorius bent to let water rinse his hands and wrists, then straightened and shook them free of drops. "What are these concerns of yours, Arcadia?"
"Why would Hermias lose time by bothering to hide Flavius's body somewhere and risk discovery? And he isn't a strong person. Carrying the man would be difficult."
"Good point. That means the slave's corpse should be nearby."
Arcadia held up the cut ends of the slave collar. "Also, how could Hermias reach back and cut this, even if he got hold of a saw?"
Getorius felt the rough edge. "Another slave could have cut it and helped him escape, but I'm thinking of your first question about the difficulty in disposing of Flavius. Stay here a moment."
Getorius returned to the healing pool and told Apollonios, "Have your guards search this immediate area for Flavius's body. It can't be far off."
In control again, he nodded grudging consent. "I will tell Aristides to do so."
Getorius came back to Arcadia. "The Physician agreed to look for Flavius, but he isn't used to taking orders from 'arrow removers'."
"Nor from local authorities," she noted.
"No." Getorius turned to Brisios. "You've spent time with Hermias, and I found out he couldn't speak. How did you two communicate?"
"Master, he made hand signs that I could understand."
"Did you learn anything that might help us find him?"
"We said nothing of importance." Brisios fell silent, then volunteered, "Master, there are those in the city who would help Hermias escape."
"You mean other slaves?"
"I heard of houses at Ravenna with underground escape tunnels. Like those of an ant nest."
Arcadia recalled the secret passages beneath the Serapion. "Then we may never find Hermias." She stopped to look toward a commotion in the courtyard facing the Asklepion's entrance gate. "A large group of new pilgrims has arrived."
Herakles came from the mud bath area. "Asterios, the sick from Hermes are here, and yet attendants will not admit them until the dead woman's body is taken away."
Getorius looked toward the deadly pool. The two slaves had placed Basina's muddy corpse on a stretcher and were carrying it to a doorway in the shrine's rear wall. "Her body is being taken somewhere."
"Kalos. We can go to entry gate."
Apollonios signaled to Aristides. Both went to the entrance.
A massive iron gate bearing the serpent-entwined, winged caduceus of Asklepios barred the pilgrims from entering. The strongest of them clutched the bars, rattling the barrier in anger, oblivious to attendants trying to pry their fingers away. Two guards, swords unsheathed, glanced at Apollonios as he approached, waiting for orders. He shook his head to prevent an irreversible action on their part, such as severing hands
Outside the gate, most of the ill stood around the banners of their patron saints, while Sisters attempted to reassure them that their difficult journey had not been a waste. Deacon Basil, arguing with the gatekeepers, noticed Getorius. "Surgeon!" he called out. "Surgeon Asterios, praised be God! In the name of those who are dying, do something to let us inside the shrine."
Apollonios, surprised at the deacon's recognition of Getorius, demanded, "How would you know these pilgrims?"
"We were with them on their galley until Abydos."
Herakles distanced himself. "They boarded at New Rome, but I am not responsible for this group."
Arcadia said, "I believe Aelia Pulcheria paid for their voyage to your shrine."
"Sister of the Basileus." At the imperial connection, Apollonios relented. "Very well, but the ill must be admitted to the sacred precinct in orderly groups. Aristides and my priests will cull out those not acceptable."
"Deacon, did you hear?" Getorius called through the bars. "The Sisters must come in at different times with their patients."
Basil nodded and turned away to consult with the women. "Agreed," he shouted back. "Open the portal first for those of Holy Agatha."
Apollonios nodded to the gatekeeper. After the twin portals swung inward, the entire crowd surged into the courtyard. They shoved aside the Asklepiads and surged down the stairs into the sacred precinct. Most ignored any of their own who stumbled and fell. The two guards tried to stop the onrush, but were attacked with poles that held saints' banners. The foremost pilgrims ran toward the nearest healing spring.
Backing Arcadia away from the frenzy, Getorius recognized some of the ill. Demetrios was carried on a stretcher, with his gangrenous leg covered in a stained bandage.
Apollonios tried to block their way. "No, stop!" he screamed. "Not all may enter the shrine. Register with the priests."
"Poor unfortunates," Getorius remarked. "He may as well try to command the wind."
Desperate cure-seekers fanned out to search the unfamiliar site. Some went to the library and Asklepios's temple, but most hurried toward springs and pools in the center. Splashing in the basin, gulping water with both hands, the patients' expectations of a cure became a force that permeated the air. Ignoring pleas from Basil and the Sisters, the pilgrims fought each other for access to the basins. At the mud pool, Demetrios was dropped from his stretcher into the greenish ooze, choking and gagging as the slime fouled his mouth.
Getorius led Arcadia along the covered walkway that led to the theater, away from the frantic rush. Outside the Temple of Hygeia and Panacea, some pilgrims thrust coins into the hands of the priests who sacrificed chickens to the goddesses. The birds' throats were slit and carcasses cut open to examine entrails for signs of a cure. Waving feathers plucked from their sacred victims, desperate donors moved off in search of other ritual acts that might bring them health.
A few in the crowd discovered the tunnel that led to the sanitarium. Apollonios and his guards hurried there, blocking access and exhorting the sick not to enter.
Watching the chaotic scene, Arcadia said, "I'm almost grateful that Droseria didn't live to see this. Getorius, I want to go back and talk to Tranquillus about her funeral. I can tell him what happened to Basina."
"You're right Arcadia, there's nothing we can do here, but we had planned on climbing up to the acropolis. It would do you good."
"Another time. There's Droseria's funeral to arrange."
"Fine," he agreed, to avoid an argument. "I'll take you back to the Poseidon."
Herakles had followed them and volunteered. "Domina could come with me. I must bring something back here for the Physician."
"Then Brisios and I will go on to the acropolis."
"There is goat path outside the Sacred Way. Follow it to the Trajan temple."
"I'll find it, Herakles. I'll be back by afternoon, Arcadia."
At the entrance, priests and guards had managed to close the gate and turn away other new arrivals. Groups of pilgrims gathered at the outer courtyard in protest. Several black-robed monks incited them on.
"Akoimetoi, 'The Sleepless Ones'," Herakles remarked. "They will exploit any situation that harasses pagan shrine priests."
Herakles bribed a guard to open the gate far enough for him and the others to slip out. The guide led Arcadia toward the Poseidon, while Getorius pushed his way though the milling pilgrims toward the Sacred Way, ignoring persistent vendors who pressed wares on him. Brisos followed.
At the avenue's intersection with a street that paralleled the city wall, much of the stonework lay in ruins. The two men stepped over blocks of blue-gray granite and struggled up an embankment. The deserted path was nearby. Sheep and goats browsed along the slope and moved slowly toward a river to graze near the waterway. Trampled
by generations of cloven hooves, the path was fairly wide, yet Brisios walked behind his master. Getorius thought to relax his slave and stopped to wave him closer. "You can walk alongside me. This is fairly easy going, but it looks steeper beyond that wall up there. You're younger than I am. How old?"
"I'm not sure, Master."
"Didn't your parents tell you?"
"I never knew them well."
"Are they dead?"
Brisios shrugged ignorance or disinterest. "They belonged to a senator with an estate near Bononia. I was a boy when he sold me to his son-in-law at Ravenna."
"So that's how you got there. Childibert bought you at a slave auction."
