by Albert Noyer
Getorius muttered, "What is the woman doing? She's admitted that the mob will break in here."
"Cunning as a serpent." Arcadia recalled Ignatia's admonition with a shudder. "Even if the creatures are harmless, I'm not going down there."
"You will follow Apollonios," Zoë ordered, her voice edged with anger at her hesitation.
Getorius squeezed his wife's shoulder. "Go, cara. Your life depends on it."
After the freedwoman eased herself into the pit, the ominous hissing increased intensity. Brisios handed her one of the lamps, then used the forked rod to shove the reptiles back. Straining with a shoulder, Zoë pushed at a marble slab until it slowly swiveled inwards.
"There's a ladder inside this opening," she called up. "Medica, set your lamp on the den's floor to keep the serpents back, then follow me down. Apollonios, you know about this place. Throw me your books and climb down."
Zoë caught the physician's texts, dropped them into a passage behind her, then grasped the man's feet to help steady him. After Apollonios had backed down the rungs, Arcadia followed him into the pit. She gagged at the stench and closed her eyes when shoving the lamp at the reptiles. Oil splashed out and trickled a small burning trail toward them. A serpent, its pink mouth hissing threats, struck out at the lamp, but recoiled at the flame.
When Arcadia reached back with her foot, feeling for the ladder's top rung, a snake slithered around the small blaze in panic and skittered into the opening. Cosmas, I need you again. Don't let me scream and disgrace myself in front of this freedwoman. After her foot touched the rung, Arcadia scrambled down into a narrow corridor and glanced around. By the dancing lamplight, the musty-smelling passage was bricked over in a vault that led into a black distance. "Zoë, where are we?"
"In a slave escape tunnel." The freedwoman's face was expressionless, yet Arcadia sensed latent hatred trapped beneath her manner. "Medica," Zoë said, "for a time you and your husband will feel what it is like to attempt an escape from authorities who are intent on capturing and perhaps executing you. What it is to be a fugitive with little hope of attaining freedom."
CHAPTER XX
Before Brisios dropped into the pit, Zoë reminded him, "Replace the forked rod. Bring the lamp and push the marble slab tightly shut before you come down."
The woman led the way along the arched passage until it opened into an alcove. A single votive candle illuminated a shrine similar to that for Roman household gods. The niche was inscribed with six names in Greek and two crosses above and below them.
Getorius read the inscription. "Marpor. Antaios. Spartakos. Who are Matillos and the others?"
"Slave leaders who died trying to free themselves and their fellow slaves," Zoë answered. "We remember them here."
"You're saying they led slave rebellions?"
"Rebellions, Surgeon? They fought for equality as human images of a God the Christian Church preaches, yet does not seem to recognize in slaves."
"Still," Getorius countered, "they disrupted the order of society."
"Zoë," Arcadia called out to forestall a conflict, "where does this tunnel lead?"
"To the Poseidon, yet you will see that we are in more than a tunnel."
Farther along the walls, rectangular niches sealed by bricks or stone slabs marked burials inscribed with other names. Most were undecorated, but a few had inscribed Greek crosses or the X P Chi-Rho monogram of Christ.
Zoë explained again. "Catacumbas, as you Latins call these underground tombs. Here they are slave burial places."
The passageway soon widened into a fair-sized room, whose dank air smelled of sewage. The light of several lamps revealed rough pine wardrobes and bunk beds set against one wall. Barrels and crates separated racks of spears, swords, and legionary or gladiator helmets. A wicker screen concealed part of the area.
A table to one side was set with a board game that Getorius recognized as "Hounds and Jackals," an Egyptian pastime popular at Ravenna. One of two chairs was pushed back, the other overturned, as if the players had been interrupted and fled. When Zoë called out in Greek, he caught a name, Naxos, and the word philos, "friends."
Two men brandishing swords stepped from behind the screen and broke into grins when they saw the freedwoman. One evidently knew Apollonios and greeted him, then held out an arm near a lamp to show a healing scar. The physician laid a book down to examine the wound, spoke to him, and patted his shoulder. Both men righted the chairs and sat to resume their game.
Impressed, Getorius said, "Apollonios, you treated that slave and know about this underground hideout."
The physician half-smiled. "Yet that serpent's den is not my usual way of entering."
"No offense, Sir, but you seemed so arrogant when I first met you."
"Surgeon, medical impostors harass me each day. One becomes impatient."
Zoë said, "This place, in your Latin, is a Domus refugii, a refuge offering food and safety. A slave learns much from his master, even to imitate him." She opened a wardrobe door and sorted through clothes hanging on pegs. "Wearing a new tunic, given a forged manumission document, and a few coins in a purse, a slave may begin the life of a free person where he or she is not known."
Getorius called out to Brisios, "You knew about places like this at Ravenna?"
When he looked away without answering, Zoë defended his silence. "A slave swears never to give information about a house of refuge. Perhaps Hermias disobeyed and was made mute by his fellow slaves."
Arcadia shuddered at the thought and looked across the room to where the dark tunnel resumed. "You said that passageway leads to the Poseidon?"
"Yes, Medica, and on your husband's oath to Hippocrates, you will both swear secrecy about what you see here."
"Of course," Getorius quickly assented.
Satisfied, she looked toward Apollonios. "Physician, that mob must be in the Asklepion by now. Will your daughters be safe?"
"I taught them to hide under the Temple of Hygeia." He slumped down on the bunk and ran a trembling hand through his hair. "The rioters will wreak more damage than Goths, all because of that Hunnic presbytera and her ruse to destroy me." He looked up at Getorius. "I'm accused of burning her church. On Asklepios, I swear I did not."
"Yet someone wanted Epiphania dead. How trustworthy is Aristides?"
Apollonios gave a non-committal shrug. "Undoubtedly, he wishes to succeed me as archpriest, yet the man is as dedicated to healing as I am."
Getorius continued, "I don't understand he role of Tranquillus in all this. Why did he attend that bizarre ritual on the acropolis, or even know about it?"
Arcadia recalled, "At Constantinople he was late coming aboard the galley and we almost left without him. He told us that Bishop Proklus had invited him to supper."
"I did think that a bit odd after what Herakles said about the difficulty of seeing persons connected to Theodosius's court."
"The presbyter was evasive about the invitation, said only that Proklus talked about church matters." Arcadia thought a moment. "He must have had a letter of introduction from Galla Placidia."
Getorius was interested enough to speculate. "Suppose that Tranquillus was sent as a cleric purportedly escorting the widows, yet to investigate women ministers at Pergamum and rumors of a female bishop. It was an unexpected coincidence that we encountered each other at Herakleia."
Arcadia said, "Pulcheria was adamant about keeping Ignatia and Epiphania a secret, yet she couldn't have known about the destroyed church and the presbytera's ruse. If Tranquillus came here to find out what he could about Epiphania, that Egypto-Christian rite must have shocked him."
"And he certainly didn't expect us to be present," Getorius added. "Herakles was with him, so the two must be in some sort of collusion."
"Pulcheria is a strong supporter of women's roles in church ministry, yet up to a point. Virgin benefactresses, hospital attendants, positions like that, but she refused ordination as a deaconess." Arcadia stopped, excited by a thought that came to
her. "Zoë, I must get back to our room at the Poseidon. Could you take us there now?"
Getorius held his wife back by the arm. "That wouldn't be safe with that mob rampaging outside. We're better off staying here. Why go at this time?"
"I've thought of something."
"What is it?"
"Getorius, I'll tell you after we're back. Zoë?"
"We should continue on." She indicated the opposite end of the room. "That tunnel follows a sewer culvert directly to the mansio."
Calmer now, Apollonios said, "I'll stay here to be near the Asklepion and pray to the god for my daughters' safety."
Getorius touched his shoulder. "Dea Fortuna tecum, Physician."
"Fortuna can be a fickle goddess," he cautioned. "May she be kind to both of you."
Holding a lamp high in one hand, Zoë continued along a passageway barely wide enough for two persons to walk alongside each other. Lamps spaced twenty-five paces apart provided welcome islands of light. At one point, the ceiling lowered to a height where persons bent down to pass through.
Just beyond, the woman held up her lamp to show a net holding back heavy stones on a shelf cut into the side wall. "A sword slash at the rope and those stones would block this passage. Be cautious, there are other traps."
Getorius marveled, "Whoever built this thought of everything."
"Surgeon, do you not fight death with medicines? With us, too, escape is a path to health."
"Are Naxos and that other slave going to follow us?"
Without answering, Zoë walked on in silence until she stopped at a flight of steps that led to a bolted wooden door. "Look away," she ordered. A click of metal wards indicated that she had retrieved a hidden key and opened the bolting mechanism. "We are next to an alcove in the storage room of the Poseidon's kitchen." She pointed to a wood panel, about three feet high. "Surgeon, you and your wife will crawl through on your knees and hands."
Relieved as he was to escape, Getorius objected to a freeman scrambling on the ground like an animal, yet realized that it symbolized the degraded status of slaves. "Gratias, Zoë," he said awkwardly. "You saved our lives."
"So that you may solve the mystery of the Hunnic bishop?" she taunted without a smile. "Brisios, after you enter, replace the panel."
Zoë went from the kitchen to the atrium and reception area. Both were deserted. Heavy furniture barricaded the Poseidon's entrance. Window shutters had been latched shut as protection and to muffle shouts heard from the direction of the shrine, a quarter mile distant. "Nysus is cautious," she said, "but the rioters won't come here. Their wrath is directed toward the Asklepion."
Arcadia felt relief at arriving safely. "Maria and Melodia must be in their rooms. Getorius, I need to find what I want in ours."
Inside the bedroom, Arcadia sorted through items near the bottom of her travel bag, wincing at a reek of mildew.
Getorius was impatient to be let into her confidence. "Just what is it you're searching for?"
"Galla Placidia gave us a packet for Theodosius, but we couldn't take it to him. Wait. It's down here." She pulled out a waxed leather envelope secured with laces. "I found it."
"What will you do now?"
"Find out what the Gothic Queen wrote."
"What! You're going to open an imperial letter addressed to the emperor?"
Getorius grabbed for the packet, but Arcadia held it away from him at arm's length. "Husband, I've a feeling there may be something in here that explains much of what is going on."
"A feeling? Your female intuition?" he mocked. "Woman, I know for a fact that if you open that packet, exile awaits both of us."
"Don't be absurd," she retorted, undoing the laces. "I'll simply reseal it." She set aside the binding and took out a smaller envelope of purple-dyed calfskin. At each end of the closing flap, wax discs were impressed with the GP RG monogram of the Empress Mother. "Getorius, work that wax loose with your knife without breaking either seal. A few bits came off in traveling, but you can melt them back on."
"Melt them?" Getorius shook his head, hardly believing that he was slipping the tip of his dagger blade under the first seal. He eased the wax loose, removed the other, and handed his wife the calfskin. After she took out a white vellum sheet, he told her, "You might as well read that aloud. I'm curious to find out what I'll be regretting on 'Exile Island'."
"It begins, 'Galla Placidia Augusta to the most Excellent D. N. Theodosius II Augustus. Greetings.
"'Clarissimus, This will introduce to you my physician, Getorius Asterius, and his spouse Arcadia. I again express my gratitude for the asylum you offered me and my children seventeen years ago at the time of the usurper Johannes.'
"'A trusted presbyter, Gaius Tranquillus, the subject of this correspondence, is escorting two pious women, who wish to endow a new church in your city of Pergamum. This is to counter a paganism that I am told is on the rise at a healing shrine called in Greek, Asklepion. My confessor, Petrus Chrysologos, Archbishop of Ravenna, also is disturbed by word of women ministering Holy Sacraments at Pergamum, and of a female Bishop, Flavia Ignatia. She has disappeared and may have found refuge with your sister, my beloved niece, Aelia Pulcheria. I have given Tranquillus a letter outlining these concerns for your Bishop Proklus. He will discuss them with His Diligence.'
"'Of particular interest to me is Presbytera Epiphania. She is of Hunnic origin, her father having been captured in a raid by that tribe into Roman Armenia.'"
Getorius broke in, "How can Placidia know all this? What else does she write?"
"You're no longer worried about being exiled?"
"Read on, woman!"
"'While the role of females in the Roman Church is an important one as holy virgins doing good works for the poor, Sisters who staff hospitals, even deaconesses who minister to elderly women, it is the Archbishop's position, indeed of recent Bishops of Rome, that no sacerdotal authority be given to females.'
"'With full appreciation of your heavy duties as Eastern Augustus, and without criticism of your Esteemed Person, in the name of Our Savior, Jesus Christ, I ordered Tranquillus to investigate these renegade women and the resurgent paganism I mention.'
"'Lest you dismiss my fears as baseless, Beloved Nephew, I say only that my informer at Pergamum is a certain "A." Let Us be honest. Just as your "eyes and ears" in Ravenna send back reports about the West, so my own ambassadors supply me with information about your empire'." Arcadia paused to look up. "This person Placidia identifies only as 'A' obviously is Apollonios."
"Possibly, yet it simply could be an alpha, the first alphabet letter as a code. If it is the physician, I'm almost regretful. I respected him before and after seeing his concern for slaves, was even beginning to like the man."
"You've already forgotten the horrors we saw at the Morphion?" Arcadia asked while replacing the vellum in its envelope. "He may have arranged Epiphania's murder, yet I believe Apollonios when he says that he didn't burn her church. Epiphania's staged resurrection was too much a coincidence. She torched her own basilica, knowing the physician would be blamed."
Getorius summarized, "Britto is dead. Lydia might explain that murder, but we may never see her again, nor Tranquillus. I understand now why he insisted on anointing Epiphania's body. With her dead, Bishop Ignatia would be powerless and he could report success."
"With all the help Pulcheria gives to the ill, I can't believe she would want the Asklepion destroyed. Pilgrims would have reported many cures to her."
"We may never know. The Augusta is several days off at Constantinople and by dawn that mob will have destroyed everything they can."
"And we're helpless." Arcadia laid down the note to massage her temples. "I am so exhausted! Getorius, would it be inappropriate to have a bath with all this horror going on?"
"Not at all, cara. There's a tub in that alcove across the room, so I'll ask Brisios to have it filled with hot water."
The lead-lined tub had a curved back in order that bathers could lean back in relaxati
on. Room servants who brought buckets of steaming water perfumed with jasmine oil left a sponge, towels, and lump of sapo, a foaming skin cleanser made of lard boiled with lye and wood ashes. After they left, Getorius unstrapped his wife's sandals and stripped off her tunic. It smelled of damp wool and faintly of her perfume. He felt himself hardening under his loincloth.
"Join me," Arcadia invited as he held one of her hands to steady her into the water.
The tub was small. She knelt in front of him and held the sides when he sponged her back. He lightly bit her neck as a signal to turn and face him. As he lathered his wife's shoulders and breasts, his erection persisted. He tasted alkaline suds when he teased her nipples with his tongue, then eased her back against the tub's curve. After she slid down to receive him, he held her tightly in the closed space. Arcadia softly whimpered at her husband's gasp of breath after an immediate climax. They lay clasped side by side. Relieved that the misunderstanding between them had healed, both fell into a weary sleep.
Cold bath water awakened Getorius first. Each dried the other with towels and slipped into bed, too exhausted to put on night tunics. A sleep of the dead came quickly, yet was disturbed by recurring images of the acropolis ceremony and the crowd's senseless rush to attack the healing shrine. Arcadia dreamed of the terrifying serpent den that ironically had become a route to safety.
* * *
Getorius sat up with a subconscious cry that awakened Arcadia. "What is it?"
He rubbed his eyes to lose the image. I was falling down the stairs of that steep acropolis theater. Someone or something was behind me."
"And I was restless. We certainly don't need nightmares to make us feel any worse."
"No." He rose to look at square of blue sky outside the window. "Daylight, probably well after the first hour. Brisios let us sleep later." He listened a moment. "It's quiet outside. Hopefully the rioting has ended."
