Death at Pergamum

by Albert Noyer

  Pulcheria stood up, jolted at what had happened, yet conscious of her rank as Augusta and sister of the Eastern Emperor. She embraced Sophia and comforted her in Greek, then went to Herakles, who still held down a helpless Aristides.

  "Guide," she scolded, "you waited long enough to reveal yourself to Us."

  "Augusta, I will be honest." Unable to find a glib excuse, even an explanation, Herakles fell into an embarrassed silence.

  Without smiling, Pulcheria quipped, "For once Our talkative agent lacks words."

  "As do I." Arcadia sniffled and pulled away from her husband. "What was happening here?"

  Getorius asked his wife, "How did you think to come to the temple?"

  Pulcheria's attention turned away from the guide. "Yes, medica, tell us. You saved Sophia's life, possibly mine."

  Arcadia explained, "After my husband and Brisios left to come here, I remembered the tunnel that led from the kitchen to the serpent pit. While Zoë went to find Vidimir, I went down to tell Apollonios about Aristides's summons to the Augusta." She looked toward Naxos. "The physician came to the temple with me and a slave who once fought as a gladiator."

  "Aristides!" Apollonios came forward to shout the name, his face flushed in anger as he shook a fist at his assistant. "The surgeon discovered your betrayal by selling belongings of those who died at the Morphion and burying patients at night. You've undoubtedly looted the shrine treasury and now you've conspired to flee to Egypt."

  "A moment, Physician," Pulcheria interposed, then turned to the gladiator. "How you are called?"

  "Naxos, Augusta."

  At his chest salute and bowed head, she ordered, "It is Our wish is that you take charge of the Egyptians and this traitor, Aristides. Get him up and seated in my chair. Herakles, come stand by Us."

  When the guide released his hold, Naxos jerked Aristides to his feet and shoved him into the seat Pulcheria had occupied. Herakles hesitated, then came to her, his eyes averted toward the floor.

  "What is she doing?" Getorius murmured. "Isn't our guide part of this treason?"

  Arcadia whispered back, "But he subdued Aristides."

  "An opportunist, desperate to change sides now that he's been discovered."

  "The Augusta called him her agent."

  Pulcheria heard and called to the couple. "I can imagine your confusion. Herakles is an agent of Theodosius. Your guide was investigating a syndicate that grew and sold papaver without paying the imperial tax. In doing so, he discovered this long-planned perfidiousness of the Asklepion priest. Vidimir is with Niketas, making arrests, as is a magistrate at Smyrna."

  Getorius said, "I thought our guide used his position as a ruse for smuggling."

  Pulcheria ordered, "Herakles, explain to the Surgeon and his wife."

  "I will be honest, Asterios. It was necessary to deceive you and not arouse the suspicions of Aristides and the others. You recall that field being cross-plowed? You asked about it."

  "Yes, on the way here."

  "It was an illegal planting of papaver, by a farmer careless enough to cultivate in sight of the roadway. Certain customs officials at Smyrna were bribed to overlook the tax."

  "You were so critical of the government at Constantinople."

  Herakles nervously glanced at the Augusta. "With some justification, Asterios, yet my complaints reinforced the ruse."

  "Surgeon," Pulcheria broke in, "who is the brave man who came down the rope with you? A medical assistant?"

  "No, Brisios is my slave."

  "And worthy of a reward." She turned back to Apollonios. "Physician, if you agree to be baptized, I shall rebuild your healing site. The shrine will be dedicated to the physician, Luke, a companion of the Holy Paul."

  "Baptized?"Apollonios scoffed. "Augusta, have you forgotten that your

  Constantine issued an edict tolerating all religions? In his words, 'Christians and all others are at liberty to follow whatever form of worship they choose, so that whatsoever divine and heavenly powers exist might be enabled to show favor to us and to all who live under our authority."

  Pulcheria acceded stiffly, "You have memorized well, Physician."

  Apollonios continued, "Yet a half-century ago, your grandfather, the First Theodosius, closed our temples and persecuted pagan teachers. Your brother drew up a new code of laws limiting the rights of not only pagans, but also Judeans."

  "Are you quite finished?" Pulcheria interrupted in an acid tone.

  Apollonios bowed slightly to remind her, "Augusta, Christian philosophers now lecture on the great Plato and Aristotle. They honor Plotinus of Lycopolis, who enthralled Rome with his philosophy two centuries ago. All were pagans."

  Pulcheria kept her composure in replying, "My confessor admitted that in the past God's infinite mercy enlightened the minds of worthy Hellenes."

  "Yet your monks destroyed a healing shrine that benefits all." Apollonios's shoulders sagged in resignation as he covered his eyes and finished in a hoarse whisper, "I shall go to the library at Ephesos and have their medical texts copied or hidden before your Sleepless Ones destroy them as well."

  A hollow pounding on the bronze doors reverberated throughout the temple. A strong male voice demanded that the portal be unbarred in the name of Emperor Theodosius.

  "That is Vidimir," Pulcheria said with a sigh of relief. "Brisios, unbar the doors."

  Despite his raw palms, Getorius helped him remove the beams securing the portal. Vidimir rushed in, saw Apollonios, and shoved him against the wall with the point of a sword at his throat.

  "Not the Physician," Pulcheria called out. "The traitor, Aristides, sits in that chair near the idol. Decapitate him."

  "Decapitate?" Arcadia blurted. "No, you can't!"

  Also disturbed at her pitiless order, Getorius protested, "The priest should be tried before a magistrate."

  Without a reply, Pulcheria moved gracefully toward the open doors.

  Aristides uttered a rodent-like squeak of fright as Vidimir raised his long sword in both hands. A single stroke severed the priest's neck, spattering gore on the statue of Asklepios. The traitor's head rolled to a stop on the marble floor next to that of his wooden god.

  Sophia covered her eyes. Arcadia buried her face in Getorius's shoulder to blot out the scene. He lost all awareness of his stinging hands by staring at the pallid face of Aristides.

  "We are through here," Pulcheria stated without looking back. "Sophia, We shall go to the mansion, all of you, for supper. Naxos, take the Egyptians to Niketas for execution." When she spoke to Vidimir in Gothic, Getorius understood enough to realize that she had a list of traitors marked for death. His men would carry out the executions before morning.

  With a glance of disbelief at the rope on which he had descended, Getorius led Arcadia outside. It was full dark now, but three men who came with Vidimir had torches. He posted one as a guard, then led the others down the temple stairs.

  Arcadia had not brought a cloak. She walked at a distance behind Pulcheria, shivering from both the cold and horror of the execution. Getorius held her arm as tightly as he could with a painful hand. Arcadia slowed her walk to look at his palms.

  "I'll treat your hands with achillea salve and bandage them." She shuddered again. "That...that execution was merciless. Pulcheria seemed so pious when I saw her at her palace. She spoke of building hospitals, helping destitute widows."

  "Cara, death is the penalty for treason. It seems that the Augusta came here to do much more than look into Epiphania's invalid ordination. She was quick to order Aristides and many others executed."

  "As if she wanted him silenced as soon as possible?"

  "Exactly. She must have found out that he was reporting to Galla Placidia, yet how could the Empress Mother have contacted him to begin with?"

  "Placidia was born at Constantinople and spent years there in exile. You read her letter about having agents in the city reporting for her." After being silent a few moments, Arcadia noted, "Zoë didn't come back to the temple af
ter finding Vidimir."

  Brisios called out from behind them, "Mistress, she's probably at the Poseidon finishing meal preparations."

  Getorius turned to him. "She knows more than she's let on, and so does Tranquillus. Brisios, go up ahead and ask the presbyter to come back here. Then run to tell Nysus we'll be at the Poseidon shortly."

  At the slave's request, Tranquillus stopped and looked back, but waited for the couple to reach him.

  "Presbyter," Getorius prodded, "you weren't part of this conspiracy. Why did you flee from us at the acropolis?"

  "Surgeon, I can understand your concern."

  "With respect, Presbyter, that isn't an explanation."

  When he kept silent, Getorius persisted, "How did you work with Herakles? We suspected him of smuggling opion to Apollonios."

  Tranquillus looked to his left. "We've reached the necropolis. I'll inform the Augusta that at supper I shall offer a prayer of thanks for her safety."

  Arcadia asked, "And for the souls of Rufinus and Aristides?"

  He glanced sharply at her. Without answering, he turned to catch up with Pulcheria.

  Arcadia felt ill. "Getorius, I couldn't eat anything after what I just saw."

  "Nor I, but an Augusta has ordered us to be present at the meal."

  "I understand, but I'll tell her I must take care of your hands first."

  * * *

  The Poseidon's other diners had finished eating and left, unaware of the deadly reprisals occurring a short distance away. Pulcheria came to the dining area screened off for her. Nysus, alerted by Brisios, waited with Zoë. Maria and Melodia stood near a table that held a pitcher of warm perfumed water, silver bowls, and towels. Nysus bowed and came to pour water over Pulcheria's hands as an ablution.

  "We thank you, Nysus," she said, taking a towel from Zoë. The Augusta greeted the widows. "Dominae, We are pleased to see you once again. Nysus, you may begin serving."

  Getorius came in with Arcadia just as the food was brought. He grinned sheepishly and held up his bandaged hands as an excuse. When Pulcheria clapped softly, the others took up her cue. "Surgeon, you may sit on Our left with your wife." After both were seated, she nodded to Tranquillus.

  The presbyter raised his hands in prayer. "Gracious Father, we thank you for preserving Her Serenity from the treachery of this night. Bless her and the family of Theodosius and grant wisdom to the newly elected Pontiff of our Holy Roman Church."

  Pulcheria crossed herself with the others, but in the Greek manner. Arcadia wondered how she felt about the Bishop of Rome being included in a blessing for the Eastern Emperor: Theodosius primarily was loyal to the Patriarch at Constantinople.

  Dinner conversation was subdued. Those who had been in the temple, possibly with the exception of Pulcheria, were unable to shake the vision of the two violent deaths and the thought that Vidimir and Niketas were dragging suspected conspirators to their executions without a trial. The Augusta continued to use a formal pronoun, perhaps as a way of putting distance between herself and the recent unpleasant realities. Sophia sniffled as she picked at her food. The widows, ignorant of what happened, whispered to each other until Maria spoke up.

  "Augusta, what is this treachery the presbyter mentioned?"

  Pulcheria nodded for Tranquillus to answer.

  "Domina Maria, an Asklepion priest with conspirators looted his temple's treasury and planned an escape to Egypt. The arrival of our group thwarted his scheme."

  Pulcheria signaled for him to cease explaining and turned to Arcadia. "Naxos came out of a pit with you, medica. What was that?"

  "The entrance to a slave escape tunnel." Arcadia instantly realized her blunder.

  Pulcheria expressed mild surprise. "A casa refugii?" After Arcadia nodded, she retorted, "Fugitive slaves are unacceptable in an orderly society. We shall order Niketas to collapse the tunnel and fill it in."

  Getorius recalled, "Augusta, you offered to rebuild the Asklepion. Will you do so without Apollonios?"

  "The enclave of the Hellenes will be torn down with 'not one stone left atop the other,' as was predicted of the Hebrew temple at Jerusalem. Whatever stonework can be salvaged from this Throne of Satan shall be used to build a new basilica. The rest is to be burned in lime kilns for mortar." Pulcheria made an impatient gesture with her knife and indicated Brisios, standing next to Zoë. "Surgeon, We are weary of this subject. Have you decided on a reward for your slave?"

  "Arcadia and I were thinking of manumission and making Brisios a freedman."

  Pulcheria allowed herself a smile of agreement. "We have freed most of Our slaves and commend you. In the morning, Presbyter Tranquillus will preside at a ceremony. We shall give Brisios Our imperial approval."

  "Arcadia and I are honored." Getorius glanced at Brisios. Zoë clutched his hand and grinned at him; both had overheard the offer.

  Pulcheria delicately stifled a yawn and stood up from the table. "Sophia, cease that snivelling. We shall go to Our room. We thank you, Nysus. The manumission will take place here at the fourth morning hour. Surgeon, We shall talk again afterward."

  The others stood as Pulcheria left the room with Sophia. When she had gone, Maria complained, "Surgeon, Melodia and I do not appreciate being left out of what happened. We are not a pair of old crones too feeble to be told the truth."

  "I'm sure we don't know the entire story, only as much as the Augusta and Herakles are willing to tell us. Domina, you'll understand that my wife and I are exhausted. The pain in my hands will keep me awake."

  "Of course, please go to your room." Maria paused before adding softly, "Ah... Surgeon. Melodia and I wonder if it is wise for you to free your slave?"

  Still thinking like old Romans trying to hang onto Patrician standards and privileges in a changing world. "Arcadia and I believe so. Good night, both of you."

  Servants had lighted the stove to warm the room. Getorius threw down a cape he had put on over clothes soiled by dirt from the temple roof. "Incredible," he recalled. "Pulcheria sat there serenely eating and chatting while executions were being carried out at her command. The woman had Aristides beheaded as calmly as she orders wine."

  Arcadia came to help him remove the vest and damaged tunic. "It's done, Getorius. I just want to be far, far away from here. We must find a way back to Ravenna as soon as possible."

  "I'll talk to Herakles in the morning. He's the only person who could help us."

  "Pulcheria still wants to talk with us."

  "Hopefully, it's about a way of returning to Constantinople."

  After Arcadia helped her husband out of his clothes and into a night tunic, Getorius noticed his case with Euripides's drama lying on the table. He scooped it up with both bandaged hands. "So much for my thinking that the fate of King Rhesus could help solve these murders."

  "Well, it had gotten to be an obsession with you."

  "A mental exercise, Arcadia," he contended in his defense.

  "Still," she conceded, "if you think of it, Aristides fits Athena's warning to not go beyond what had been destined for him. And, destined or not, he did 'bring death to certain others'."

  "So I just suspected the wrong person." Getorius replaced the papyrus, muttering, "If Nysus has a library for guests, he can add this to his collection."

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Rain fell during the night. Wetness spilled through the temple oculus and diluted blood into a pinkish scum at the decapitated statue of the healing god. The steady drizzle continued into a slate-gray dawn, misting a view of the acropolis and turning the early October weather unseasonably cold. Rainwater cascaded off tiles on the atrium roof and splashed into the pool. Its overflow sloshed onto the mosaic floor, frustrating staff efforts to mop up the deluge. Since the Selenos River was less than a mile off, the faint roar of its surging current could be heard at the Poseidon.

  Getorius awoke in a frigid room whose stove fire had burned to gray ashes during the night. He scratched his eight-day-old beard a moment, then crawled out of bed and h
opped briskly across cold tiles to a wash basin and jug of icy water. "I'll wager that the Augusta has warm water this morning and that her stove is still glowing," he mused, then heard Arcadia stir. He looked back at her. "Did you sleep as badly as I did?"

  "I heard you tossing most of the night,"she said.

  "Can you blame me? Those two gruesome deaths in the temple. Pulcheria's threat to destroy the Asklepion and collapse the slave tunnel."

  "Pulcheria would have been killed along with Sophia. Getorius, don't get your hands wet!" Arcadia warned, sliding out of her bedding. "I'll help you wash, and then

  re-bandage them after I dress. I couldn't shake that horror either," she commented, sorting through the wardrobe for her warmest tunic and shawl. "Rain drumming on the roof is said to be soothing, yet that sound only kept me awake."

  "My palms stung all night, but your bandages kept air from corrupting the flesh."

  She looked over at him. "I can't believe you climbed down that rope."

  "Fell is more like it. But when I saw what happened to Rufinus, and then you climbing out of that pit, I had to get down to the floor."

  Tears spontaneously welled in Arcadia's eyes. "If you had slipped."

  "Oh, I managed a prayer to your Cosmas on the way down." He dipped a finger into the pitcher. "Icy. Could a room slave bring us hot water?"

  "Everyone here is a freedman," Arcadia reminded him. "There are no slaves." She finished belting her tunic and came to hug him. "Husband, you were very courageous. So was Brisios."

  He pulled her tightly to him. "You deserve the credit for thinking of that tunnel. Let's hope Herakles is at breakfast so I can ask him questions that include getting us home."

  * * *

  Even thought heavy curtains blocked off its atrium entrance, the dining room was damp and chilly. Folding doors with glass panes gave a view of the garden, yet kept out cold or wet weather. In the windy downpour, the garden's glistening trees and shrubs swayed as gracefully as harvest festival dancers.

  Four men in the room ate at a corner table. When the couple came in, they saw Herakles sitting near the wicker partition. The guide signaled them to his table. "Asterios. Domina. You both are well this morning?"