by Albert Noyer
Arcadia stalled. "Lydia, there are medical instruments here I've never seen before. Getorius should come. I wouldn't know what some of these are used for."
Lydia pointed to the papyrus pasted inside the cover. "You read Latin. The names are there."
"I have no opion to dull Epiphania's pain, to keep her asleep."
"Papaver is plentiful here." Lydia took a small cotton bag from the cabinet, twisted off a red cord secured by a lead seal, and removed a brown opium lump. I'll grate this into wine."
Arcadia picked up the metal disc and read the names of Theodosius and Smyrna stamped on its center. "Your Emperor and the city of Smyrna?"
"A customs seal," Lydia explained. "Our opion is legally obtained."
"Etimos," one of the women attending the bishop called out.
"She said they are ready. Begin your work, medica." The women had cut a square of cloth away from the blue inner tunic to expose the wound and yet preserve their bishop's modesty. A linen compress lay over the incision. Lydia repeated, "Choose the instruments you will use while the papaver dissolves."
While Epiphania was revived with camphor to drink the opiate, Arcadia thought back to a time she had watched Getorius dissect the abdomen of a monkey. Together they had consulted Galen's treatise, "On the Natural Faculties." According to the physician, food is digested by the stomach, liver, and intestines, then nutrition is seized by the veins. It's clear that putrefaction takes place in the intestines and can spread to other parts of the body. The monkey had two sizes of intestine, yet will I find them in a human? She exhaled deeply. I understand Getorius's frustration at not being allowed to dissect bodies.
Hands trembling, Arcadia lifted the compress and saw blood coagulating around the slit from Flavius's dagger. To check on intestinal damage, I should lengthen the cut and use a dilator clamp to keep muscles apart. "Lydia, I'll need your help," she called to her. "After I use a scalpel to increase the wound's size, I'll want achillea to control bleeding."
"Alumen crystals would be better."
"Fine." No time to ask Lydia what that is. "Bring two dilator camps. Is Epiphania asleep?"
"Deep enough to begin your work. Melilotus will help heal the wound."
"I would recommend plantago, but whatever you have." These women obviously know something of healing and yet don't want men to treat them. That explains Epiphania's offer to me about staffing a hospital. Cosmas, guide my hand.
The knife had penetrated the material of a chasuble and two tunics, then entered the left abdomen, a little lower than Epiphania's navel. In her hesitant use of a scalpel to widen the cut, Arcadia found unexpected resistance from abdominal muscles. After cutting and staunching the bleeding with alumen, she saw a section of serrated, reddish tube glistening in the lamplight. A slight odor of feces came from the area.
"This is the intestine," she told Lydia. "I expected it to be full, but it looks quite flat. When did your bishop last eat?"
"A little at breakfast, since we fast from the twelfth hour on the day before Savato."
"Kalos, that may help her."
"Kalos? Good?" Lydia allowed herself the trace of a smile. "You are learning our language."
Arcadia thanked her. "Efharisto. Ask a deaconess to use a medium dilator and hold the muscle tissues apart. Warm some wine while I check the injury."
"Medica," Lydia replied,"I already have."
With the abdominal muscles held apart, Arcadia gently probed the intestine until she found a nick on one side. A few flecks of brownish material dribbled out. Feces. The knife went deep enough to open a cut. "Suture ready," she ordered. Lydia had anticipated her and held out a golden needle threaded with silk.
Using tweezers, Arcadia picked out threads of gold, white, and blue cloth from the wound, then sponged away fecal mater and crystals of alumen with wine. She used a suturing technique Getorius had taught her to close lacerations on the tough membrane and its retaining muscles.
Before Arcadia sewed the outer skin together, Lydia sprinkled the powdered leaves of the clover-like melilot around the wound. "I have melilotus salve as a poultice."
"Fine, let Epiphania sleep. Thank Fortuna, her heavy chasuble deflected some of the blade's damage."
"We will pray to Maria Theotokos for our bishop's recovery."
Shaking from the strain of the procedure, Arcadia went to the main room and sat at the dining table.
Lydia handed her a cup of wine. "We are grateful for your help."
"I'm not sure I was successful." She took a gulp, then reminded the woman, "Mean-while, you have a dead man, a murder, on your hands."
Lydia retorted, "In the service of The Crucified One, yet how could this man know that Epiphania was alive, much less here? We limit that information."
"Apollonios declined to see her body, but at least one other person knew. In fact, he collaborated with you."
"This horror. I can't think. Who?"
Arcadia said, "The embalmer."
"Britto? No, medica, we trust him."
"His assistant, then?"
"Rufinus mixes plaster," Lydia scoffed.
"Britto couldn't have known Flavius, but he did tell someone about Epiphania. They, in turn, convinced or paid Basina's husband to come here and kill your bishop." Arcadia glanced at the still form of Flavius, his blood from the head wound coagulating on the cold mosaic floor. "And he can't tell us who it was. Lydia, take me to the Poseidon so I can bring my husband here. Getorius must see if I've done the procedure correctly."
"Andros already has left to bring him."
Arcadia smiled despite her fatigue. "Deaconess, you've anticipated my thoughts several times this evening."
"The intuition of another woman?"
"I've argued with Getorius about that."
"Two deaconesses are watching for Andros. I'll go with the others to pray for our bishop."
Arcadia waited, hopeful that her husband might save Epiphania. I've hurt him terribly by thinking about the offer Pulcheria made to me, and by being so preoccupied with Droseria. I can explain why I was so distant, but this situation at Pergamum has become truly frightening.
* * *
After Getorius arrived and listened to his wife describe what she had done, he lifted the salve compress on Epiphania's abdomen and checked the sutures. He praised her work, but did not share with her his concern that the skin around the wound might become inflamed. If so, fever and nausea would follow. Epiphania would vomit foul-smelling bile. An excruciating death soon would follow.
After Lydia watched Getorius put a fresh compress on the wound, he took her aside. "Administer diluted cassia as a gentle purgative to clear the intestine. No solid food. Opion to relieve the pain, but in moderation. I don't want her dependent on the narcotic. Arcadia said you called it papaver?'
"Yes, obtaining the narcotic is not difficult in Anatolia. Even Apollonios would have a supply."
"For the Asklepion." He recalled the inexplainable cure of Damianos's leg. "Would you consider taking your bishop there for treatment?"
"Never! We avoid the Hellene shrine as an enclave of Satan."
"Deaconess, I heard Apollonios suggest medical techniques unknown at Ravenna."
Lydia insisted, "The Crucified One and the Holy Virgin will cure Epiphania."
"I'm afraid the truth, Lydia,is that she might die."
She glanced at the wounded bishop's sleeping form. "As God wills, Surgeon, but on your Oath I ask you not to reveal what you have seen here."
"A magistrate will have to be told about Flavius's murder."
"The man intruded, surgeon. He came here to kill our bishop."
Arcadia supported her, "She defended Epiphania against Flavius. I'll tell any magistrate what happened."
"Cara." Getorius took his wife aside and lowered his voice. "We're in a foreign land a thousand miles from home. I don't want you involved in a murder investigation."
"I am involved," she reminded him. "Lydia wondered how Flavius knew that the presbytera wa
s here. Someone who wanted her dead told him."
"From what we've heard, that would be Apollonios."
"Getorius, I want to stop at Britto's on the way back to the Poseidon."
"The embalmer? Why? It's very late."
"Only Britto realized that the presbytera hadn't died. I think he might know how Flavius found out about Epiphania."
"They were strangers. How could he?"
"I'll tell you on the way there."
"Fine." Getorius turned back to Lydia. "Show me Flavius's body."
"The women are washing him for burial."
"You moved his corpse? Deaconess, court officials are suspicious when a murder site is disturbed."
Lydia's eyes flashed defiance. "Surgeon, no magistrate or other man will ever enter this place!"
"That may not be up to you." Getorius decided not to argue with the woman. "May we leave? Arcadia says you discussed Britto?"
"First, your oath, Surgeon, about this Serapion?" After he nodded agreement to keep silent, Lydia said, "I'll tell Andros to take you to the embalmer's mortuary."
Arcadia told her, "We'll try to find out what he knows. Flavius said that he had been to Pergamum before, but coming directly to this temple is too much of a coincidence."
In the carriage, Getorius put an arm around his wife. "Arcadia, I wasn't able to tell you before, but Brisios and I found the body of Hermias hidden on the acropolis."
"What?"
"It was mutilated in a way that indicates a sexual motive."
"That's horrible! Then Flavius killed the slave and brought his body up there?"
"Someone did, but he's strong enough to have done so." Getorius suppressed an involuntary yawn. "I'm tired as Sisyphus, yet perhaps Britto can help unravel what happened here."
CHAPTER XV
When Andros turned the carriage away from the Serapion, a pale sliver of last quarter moon shone low in the southwest sky. On the deserted streets, a few scavenging dogs slunk away at the rattle of oncoming wheels.
Arcadia huddled close to Getorius, absorbing his warmth. He eased an arm around her and glanced back at the dark temple. "I saw that building from the acropolis, but didn't realize what it was. From its size, the worship of Apis was important here."
"Like the cult of Isis at Ravenna. Getorius, I'm too tired to think straight. Why did Flavius try to divert suspicion from himself that way? He could have killed his wife and Hermias, then simply escaped."
"Having the authorities think he was dead wouldn't initiate a search. That would allow him more time to get away."
"But he didn't." Arcadia pulled out from under his arm and sat up. "Flavius even knew Epiphania's name, yet only the two widows and Tranquillus were aware of her."
"He called her by name?"
"It all happened fast, but he said something like, 'So, you're Epiphania.' It wasn't a question. He expected her to be there."
Getorius thought a moment. "Supposedly, Tranquillus only found out about Epiphania when he went to anoint her body."
"Yes, and you said he didn't seem that surprised. Could Maria or Melodia have told him about a woman minister hiding here?"
He shook his head. "They can keep secrets. Tranquillus pleaded with them to tell me where you were, but they wouldn't do so. He had to find out some other way."
Arcadia looked up at the waning moon. "I don't believe that Flavius killed his wife or her slave."
"Didn't kill? Cara, explain yourself."
"All right. Suppose you were him. Would you carry a body up to the acropolis at night and hide it before trying to get away from Pergamum?"
"Probably not. Go on."
"The Selenos River is much closer, so why not let Hermias's body drift down to the sea? A magistrate wouldn't bother about the corpse of an unidentified slave."
Getorius considered his wife's speculation. "And I doubt that Flavius would have compromised his escape to find Epiphania and attack her."
"Exactly. What night hour is it?"
"Probably between the eighth and ninth."
Arcadia said, "Then Flavius definitely lied about seeing Basina at the pool."
"How so?"
"He told me he saw his wife and Hermias in the moonlight, yet look around. Even if it was earlier, that last quarter of moon wasn't bright enough to see anything clearly. And Flavius told me he heard the two arguing, but Hermias is mute."
"You're right, Arcadia. Let me remind Andros about where we're heading."
Getorius half-rose from the seat and tapped the driver's shoulder. "We're going to Britto's."
The porter nodded without turning. The rhythmic clop of the mule's hooves on paving stones was the only sound, until Getorius remarked, "I keep pondering those verses that Laertes spouted at Troy. One was, 'You came here bringing their destined deaths to certain others'."
"You're suggesting that Flavius Bobo was destined to kill Epiphania?"
"I'm not sure. He had reasons to be angry with Basina and Hermias, but the presbytera? Flavius didn't even know her."
"When he saw her, he changed from grieving husband to raging Minotaur. That's all the more reason to question Britto."
Andros stopped the carriage at the square near the Sacred Way. Vendor's booths were deserted. Dying charcoal smoldered in grates at the base of Galen's statue, where sleeping vagrants lay clustered close to the meager warmth. The porter turned and pointed to the dark line of shops across the adjacent field. A lone torch illuminated the entrance to the last building.
"Yes, that's Britto's place," Getorius said. "Wait for us here, Andros."
After he helped his wife down, she hesitated. "I'm wondering if we should disturb Britto, after all."
"You're having second thoughts, Arcadia?"
"It's very late."
"Cara, the dead keep irregular hours. He'll be there and we need answers."
The grass on the field was wet with frosty dew that soaked into the couple's footwear. Getorius limped across, favoring his injured ankle. Arcadia shivered in the cold and pulled her cape closer around her shoulders.
A sputtering torch at the mortuary threw an eerie, dancing light that animated the jackal god bending over the mummified deceased. The entry to the anteroom was closed, but unlocked. As Getorius opened the portal he muttered, "Now to find the embalmer."
Illuminated by oil lamps hanging from ceiling beams, the room was bright enough to reveal two coffins set against one wall. Both were closed, but an open one on a side bench held the gypsum-coated outlines of a body. The room was warm; a brazier had almost burned its charcoal to gray ashes.
Arcadia said, "Call out down the stairs. Perhaps Britto is there."
Repetitions of the embalmer's name brought only echoes in response. "I imagine he would sleep on the second floor."
"Getorius, ring that tintinnabulum," she said, stamping numb feet.
He pulled a cord on a bell that signaled clients waiting upstairs. After several tries without a response, the jingling grated on Getorius's nerves. He turned to the open coffin and felt the gypsum with one hand. "Still damp and warm. This was recently put on and heat from that brazier was intended to help it set." He unsheathed his knife and poked at the plaster surface.
Arcadia gasped, "Husband, what are you doing? That could be Droseria!"
"No, this is a larger person, a man. Britto may be drunk and asleep somewhere, yet that attack on Epiphania could mean that something more sinister happened here." When he used his knife to lever off chunks of white material from the face, the last bits fell away imbedded with red hairs. "Christ! I think Britto is under there!" Getorius hacked off more plaster, until enough of the man's corpulent, bearded face emerged to identify the embalmer. "It is him!"
Bile rose in Arcadia's throat as she turned away. Getorius led her outside and looked toward the square. The carriage was gone. "Andros left. Are you all right?"
She nodded, wiping her mouth. "Who would do this? Why?"
"It must be connected to Epiphania. Someone wanted t
o be sure Britto didn't
reveal what he knew about her."
"What do we do now?"
Getorius looked across the field toward the physician's darkened villa. "I should tell Apollonios about Hermias, but it's late. I've wondered what was inside the circular building next to his house that he called a sanitarium. This is a chance to find out."
"The Asklepion entrance gate would be closed."
"Yes, but when I went to see him I noticed a stairway and two doors on this side of the sanitarium. They might be unlocked."
Arcadia clasped her husband's hand. "I'm frightened, Getorius. Other than those women at the Serapion, the only other person who might have been part of Epiphania's ruse is dead."
"Except for Britto's assistant and whoever killed the embalmer, which is why we can't waste time. Let's see if I can get into that building."
She held him back. "What do you expect to find?"
"I'm not sure, but Apollonios wasn't eager to show me. He's hiding something."
"Such as methods of curing patients he might not want to share with a barbaroma arrow plucker?" she remarked half-seriously.
"I'd like to find out if it's something other than rivalry." Getorius limped along the line of vendor booths he had passed with Lydia a day earlier. Most were dark, but sputtering torches burned at a few. Snores sounding from behind counters revealed that owners slept there.
Cold dew on the grass had soaked completely through the couple's shoes when they reached the ruins of Thekla's church. Getorius led his wife by the hand along the edge of the charred debris to avoid stumbling over bricks and fallen beams that were all but invisible in the darkness. Across the road, another field lay beyond fallen wall stones.
"We'll take a diagonal to the walkway around Apollonio's house," Getorius whispered. "Stay close behind me."
Her voice faint, Arcadia replied, "I will."
The air smelled of wild thyme bruised underfoot. A few night insects that survived chilly autumn nights ceased their chirping at their approach. Pilgrims who could not afford an inn were housed in leather tents close to the outer wall of the Sacred Way. A faint glow from dying coals marked their evening cook-fires. The brick walk followed the villa's wall, then turned to the right, toward the sanitarium. Next to a door in the building's lower level, a single torch, its pitch almost spent, sputtered at a stairway that led to an upper portal. Only one of two lanterns at that door was alight.
