Death at Pergamum

by Albert Noyer

  "That was a while ago, so they would have dried. Oh, no!" Arcadia straightened and followed the tracks to the wardrobe. She took out her travel case, flung it on the bed, and began pulling the contents from inside.

  "What is it you're looking for?"

  She slumped on the bed, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's gone, Getorius."

  "What is?"

  "Galla Placidia's letter to Theodosius. The message that gives the true reason about why Tranquillus came here has been stolen. Who did this?"

  "Vidimir!" he exclaimed. "Remember, he left after the Augusta whispered to him. But...but how could she know we had Placidia's missive to the emperor?"

  "I foolishly told her the day she arrived, after she asked you to leave the room."

  Getorius checked the footprints. "Large, with military hobnails. She did order Vidimir to search our bags. Now that the Augusta knows Tranquillus was spying for Galla Placidia, that compromises him in her eyes. I must talk to Pulcheria."

  "Getorius, you can't accuse her of theft."

  "No, but I can about a way of returning to Ravenna. Did you notice that Herakles wasn't at the meal?"

  Arcadia suggested, "Pulcheria may have sent him somewhere. All right, we'll go, but Brisios wants to borrow your copy of Sappho and find a poem for Zoë."

  "It's over here." As Getorius handed Brisios the volume, he winked at his freed slave. "Find a selection that your friend will enjoy."

  Brisios flushed as he mumbled thanks.

  "Arcadia, let's go to Pulcheria's room."

  A wan Sophia, with dark transparent skin circling her eyes, answered Getorius's knock. After he told her that he wanted to speak with the Augusta, Sophia turned and informed Pulcheria in Greek.

  "You may enter," she called out. Pulcheria stood by the bed, surrounded by travel cases and sorting items to be put in them. The large room was hazy with incense fumes coming from a silver censer on a table near an encaustic painting of Theotokos holding the Holy Child. A votive candle flickered before the icon. The glow of the stove and multiple lamps dispersed the cold and gloom of midday.

  "Surgeon," she said pleasantly, "I intended to send for you once Sophia had packed my things. God and the weather willing, I leave for Constantinople in the morning. The widows shall accompany me."

  "They spoke with you? Maria and Melodia were concerned about returning."

  "Tranquillus suggested that I take them in my carriage."

  "They should be pleased. Will the presbyter go with you?"

  "Indeed not, Surgeon."

  Jarred by her abrupt answer, Getorius continued, "Augusta, we came to see if you might know of a way we could return to Ravenna. The shipping offices at Elaea are closed. Is there an imperial galley sailing to the Adriatic?"

  "None," she responded curtly and returned to watch Sophia fold the maroon tunic she had worn at the ceremony.

  Getorius thought her answer too practiced, yet had no contrary evidence. "Arcadia is feeling desperate, Augusta, and my practice has been neglected beyond what I expected."

  "Surgeon," Pulcheria responded, "sea travel to Italia will not resume until spring."

  "Then I suppose we'll have to return to Constantinople by wagon."

  Pulcheria turned to him, smiling once more. "Surgeon, now that you are so close to Syria Palaestina, would you not be pleased to visit Terra Sancta?"

  Surprised, he stammered, "The Holy Land?

  "We have a proposal for you and your wife."

  Equally astonished, Arcadia wondered why Pulcheria had reverted to the formal pronoun. Was the "proposal" an official summons?

  She continued, "We are grateful for all you have done for Us here. Sit on that couch. Sophia, leave Us."

  After the young woman left, Getorius sat down and glanced at his wife. Arcadia must be as puzzled as I am at this strange offer. After Pulcheria settled in a chair across from him, he asked, "Augusta, why would we wish to go to the Holy Land?"

  "Surgeon, We are scandalized!" she rebuked half-seriously. "Is that a question that any pious Christian ever should ask?"

  CHAPTER XXV

  Pulcheria reached toward a table alongside and took off a small book bound in purple-dyed ostrich skin. Gold glittered on the edges of the vellum pages and on the Augusta's monogram APA embossed on the cover.

  "This is a record of a visit to the Holy Land some forty years ago by Egeria, a nun from Hispania. Listen to her description of the church at Bethlehem. 'The floor is a maze of patterned mosaics, the walls bright with Nativity pictures. The basilica is rich with treasures, gold, silver, and embroidered curtains placed there by the illustrious Constantine in memory of his mother, Helena'." Fascinated by the nun's account, the couple listened in silence as Pulcheria continued, "Egeria speaks of going into a nearby chapel where 'a large circular opening in the paving enables pilgrims to gaze into the blessed stable.' The nun was there at the Feast of the Resurrection, during the Great Week. Let me, yes, here. Egeria describes the baptism of candidates by immersion three times in the holy pool. Symbolic of The Crucified One's burial in the tomb."

  Still confused, Getorius asked, "Augusta, are you asking us to write a pilgrim's guide? I'm a surgeon and Arcadia is training with me. Galla Placidia will be furious if we don't return soon."

  Before he could protest further, Pulcheria said, "We shall arrange for a university physician to reach Ravenna by way of Aquileia and perform your duties. A book of travels? No, Surgeon, Our purpose is more serious. Two years ago, Empress Eudokia, our beloved sister-in-law, went to Jerusalem and visited the holy ground where Our Savior walked. She met the younger Melania."

  Arcadia asked, "Who, again, is Melania?"

  "A most pious woman. She and her spouse sold vast properties and used the money to set up a convent, restore holy places, and aid the poor, whom The Crucified One said would always be with us. Melania and Pinianus lived celibate as sister and brother."

  Arcadia thought, Like the proposal you made to me about financing my clinic. "Augusta, are you suggesting we emulate them? My husband I have no property except our villa and clinic."

  Pulcheria raised a graceful hand in protest. "No, Arcadia. We were saddened by

  Melania's death in late December. She was Eudokia's protector at Jerusalem, but while there, the Empress met a young monk named Bardanes. Despite his station as a holy man, I believe him to be a shameless opportunist. He dazzled Eudokia and offered her his cloak as if it were a holy object worthy of veneration. The monk did give her true relics, even one of the martyred Stephen. Eudokia brought those back to Constantinople."

  Getorius asked, "With respect, Augusta, how does that concern us?"

  "We fear this Bardanes will gain an evil hold on Eukokia. Holy men have been known to make inappropriate use of their office to gain advantages for their monasteries."

  "Surely a bishop at Jerusalem could curb the monk's activities."

  Pulcheria ignored Getorius's remark. "We would send Herakles with you. Our guide has proven his loyalty to Us and the Basileus."

  Her curiosity aroused, Arcadia asked, "How would we get to Terra Sancta?"

  "The crew of the galley at Elaea, on which the traitors hoped to escape, has been detained. We shall give them amnesty in return for their service. We replaced its Egyptian name with Theophilos, 'Lover of God'."

  Arcadia reached for Getorius's hand, now excited about seeing holy places at the center of the Christian world. "Augusta, may I talk this over with my husband?"

  "The journey would be at imperial expense." Pulcheria stood to hand Arcadia the book. "Medica, the journal of Egeria is Our gift to you. Return here to take supper at the second evening hour. We trust that your answer will please Us."

  Once outside the room, Getorius said, "Pulcheria wants us to report on this monk and his dealings with the Empress? That sounds quite bizarre."

  "The affair has obviously troubled her. She's already spoken with Herakles, so perhaps he could explain more about it."

  The guide wa
s in the dining room, nursing mulled wine while he read a papyrus sheet. He rolled up the document when he saw the couple coming over to him.

  "Glad we found you," Getorius said. "I'm sure you've been told that the Augusta offered us a visit to the Holy Land. She's worried about Empress Eudokia."

  Herakles admitted, "I will be honest, Asterios, I am puzzled at this concern. The two neither like nor trust each other. The Empress was Athenaïs, a pagan, before Pulcheria recruited her to be baptized and become bride to Theodosius."

  "Why do you say they dislike each other?" Arcadia asked. "Pulcheria seemed solicitous about Eudokia's well-being."

  Herakles showed the innocent smile that could be so disarming. "Domina, the

  Augusta must have a plan in mind."

  "Do you have an idea about what that plan may be?"

  "Domina, who can know the mind of a woman?"

  Getorius confronted him, "Herakles, you've tried that evasiveness before. Just tell us what you know about this monk she mentioned."

  "A most holy man, Asterios, who is said to be having an iron tunic made in which to suffer from extreme heat in summer and freezing cold in winter."

  "That has more to do with fanaticism that piety. The Augusta thinks the monk is seducing Eudokia's mind and perhaps her fortune."

  "Asterios, holy men take a vow of poverty."

  "Yet monasteries are being willed vast grants of land. You saw the influence of those monks on that mob."

  "Pulcheria wants our answer later this afternoon." Arcadia flipped through Egeria's diary. "I want to read more about an opportunity we may never see again."

  "True, Domina. 'The tide must be taken when it arrives'."

  "Meaning Herakles, we should grasp this offer?"

  Their guide grinned, then drained the dregs of his now-cold wine without mention of going with the couple. Both silently wondered if Pulcheria lied to them?

  * * *

  The rains stopped near the tenth hour when a hesitant sun shown through retreating clouds drained of moisture. Brisios decided he had found the best one of Sappho's verses to read to Zoë, and memorized it well enough to impress his friend.

  Clutching the slim volume, he walked under a portico toward the woman's room in a wing of the Poseidon. He felt more nervous than when climbing the dizzying distance down the swaying rope to the temple floor. All afternoon he had repeated to himself the verse he had chosen from Poem V, To Aphrodite. Now, as Brisios approached Zoe's room, he practiced half-aloud, "'Come goddess of Cyprus, and in golden cups serve nectar delicately mixed with pleasures'."

  He did not know who the goddess was, when he chose that particular verse. But it was short and mentioned a place called Cyprus. Nysus had boasted that his wine came from there. Also, gold serving cups filled with a drink called nectar should appeal to Zoë in her role as mistress of the Poseidon's kitchen.

  Brisios reached her door and stood for a moment, contemplating its unpainted wood and the leather covering the book of poems. He used spit to blur a small wine stain on his new tunic, Zoë's gift, took a deep, nervous breath, and rapped on the portal. A scant moment later he decided she was not in her room, a good reason to leave.

  Brisios turned to go just Zoë opened the door half way.

  Although it was afternoon, she had on a short night tunic. Her tousled hair needed combing. You fool. She's tired from preparing that meal in your honor and you've just awakened her from a nap.

  "Brisios?" She said his name in a surprised voice that had lost its slur. "I didn't expect you."

  "No. I'm sorry if, if I woke you," he stammered, then held up the book. "It's just that I brought you this."

  "What is it?"

  "A book."

  "I know that," she snapped, snatching the volume from his hand to read the title page. "Poems of Sappho? What are you doing with this?"

  Reddening from embarrassment, Brisios stuttered, "The surgeon lent it to me. I wanted you to hear one."

  His explanation was interrupted by a female voice inside the room. "Lover, who is it?"

  Brisios looked past Zoë and saw Kleis, the young kitchen helper who had not been at the manumission. The girl stood at a bedroom door, completely nude.

  "It's Brisios," Zoë called back, "that slave who was freed today."

  "Invite him in, Lover. Watching some passionate 'Greek Love' is sure to stiffen his screwing tool."

  "Skasmos! Shut up, Kleis!" Zoë stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her. "I'm sorry, Brisios."

  "I thought you liked me."

  "I do,"she said, giving his cheek a quick kiss. "And I'm glad you're free." When he rubbed at the spot and looked away, she brushed his face in a gesture of pity. "Oh. You thought there was something more?"

  His voice choking, Brisios managed to blurt, "You hugged me. Held my hand. Laughed with me when we worked together." He pulled on his sleeve, "You gave me this new tunic."

  She said, "I was happy to see you freed from another master. I want every slave to be a free person."

  "So that was your interest?"

  Zoë shrugged and flipped through the book's soiled pages. "You brought this for me? That's sweet."

  "Zoëëëë," Kleis wailed from behind the door. "Come back in, Lover. We have to go to the kitchen soon."

  Brisios grabbed the volume back. "It belongs to my master."

  Zoë flared at him, "When will you learn that you don't have a master?"

  "Skata! Shit!" Kleis threatened, "I'm getting dressed if you're not going to come." Then she giggled. "'Come.' I just made a joke."

  "I must go." Zoë backed the door open. "Your former masters seem nice. Stay with them, but be sure they keep correct pay records."

  Brisios turned and ran from the door, blinded by an unaccustomed welling of tears. In the adjacent portico he almost bumped into Getorius, who was on his way to the latrine.

  "Brisios. How did the poetry reading go?" When he did not reply, Getorius said, "We'd like you to work for us, yet won't object if you stay here with Zoë."

  "I'll work for you."

  "Are you sure? I mean Zoë is quite a woman."

  "Too much a woman."

  Getorius misunderstood. "For you? No, you're man enough to handle Zoë."

  "Surgeon, I don't want to talk about her!"

  Brisios's outburst was as close to an angry snarl as Getorius had heard from him, so any romantic interest in Zoë had not gone well. "Fine, Arcadia will be pleased you're staying. We're dining with the Augusta in about an hour."

  "I'll find a place in Pergamum to eat."

  "You do have money now, Brisios, but why not eat here? Save the cost."

  "Pergamum," he insisted, shoving Sappho's poems into his former master's hands.

  * * *

  While dressing for the meal, Getorius told his wife about his encounter with Brisios.

  She put down a reed pen. "Something must have happened between him and the freedwoman."

  "Brisios, welcome to the joys of freedom!" Getorius mimicked. "Just wait until the tax assessors get to you."

  "Husband, don't be insensitive. He must feel terrible."

  "Sorry. Did you finish Egeria's diary?"

  "Not all of it. As I read about the holy shrines, I began wondering about what will happen to Tranquillus."

  "My guess is that if Galla Placidia knows he was discovered informing for her, he's not too eager to get back to Ravenna. He could end up at a rural chapel in Gaul's remotest province." Getorius glanced over her shoulder. "What were you writing?"

  "It's a letter to my father. If the widows get back to Ravenna, Maria can take it to him. How does this sound?"

  "Arcadia Valeriana Asteria to Petronius Valerianus, Greetings.

  "In fulfilling a duty I could not until now, I send the letter I promised you when writing from Dyrrhachium. Without alarming you, Father, in honesty I must report that Getorius and I have experienced only ill fortune on this visit to Constantinople. The city itself indeed is splendid, but on the
second evening we were caught up in a riot over delayed bread rations. We hope it does not foreshadow what may happen at Ravenna, now that Vandals have cut off our African grain supply.

  "Because of the riot we left the capital early. We had planned to research medical texts, but instead were forced to the Asklepion, a healing shrine at Pergamum where we are now. One of our fellow passengers was a most unpleasant woman, a hypochondriac of the worst type, yet she did not deserve to die in a mud pool, murdered in a plot against a local female presbytera. We did not meet Theodosius, but the emperor's sister, Aelia Pulcheria, summoned me with two widows, who came to endow a church at Pergamum. Physically, Pulcheria lives up to her name, 'Beautiful,' but has proven to be ruthless when her authority as Augusta is threatened."

  Getorius cautioned, "You're not afraid that Pulcheria will read your letter?"

  "How could she? Maria will have it."

  "All right, but read me what else you're telling your father?"

  "A mob destroyed the Asklepion after the presbytera was killed. The rioters were urged on by an order of monks who wield enormous religious and political power in the East. Most persons join a religious community from piety, yet we must guard against theocratic rule. That Gallican League conspiracy at Ravenna last December shows it not to be as benign as it might sound. We had hoped to be home soon, but Pulcheria has offered to fund a journey to the Holy Land for us. Empress Eudokia has gone there and, it seems, is being manipulated by a monk like the ones I mention above. Getorius is anxious to return to the clinic, and I don't really understand how we can help Eudokia, but seeing the places where Christ lived is the dream of every Christian."

  "So you've decided that we'll go," Getorius stated flatly.

  Arcadia sprinkled fine sand over the ink. "I'll finish later. I should get ready."

  * * *

  When Sophia admitted the couple to the Augusta's room, they were surprised to see Tranquillus there. Noting their astonishment, Pulcheria explained, "The presbyter was a spiritual guide for the widows when they visited the Holy Land in late summer."

  "Yes, Maria and Melodia told us," Arcadia recalled.

  "Presbyter, while there did you see Empress Eudokia or the monk Bardanes?"