"You are, and I would have come."

  "Cara," Getorius objected, "the man would have killed you."

  "Go on Aphrodisia."

  "When he heard that…that loud noise, Shams opened the door to…to see what had happened." She chuckled. "That's when I got up behind him holding 'Anteros.' With my…my little friend stuck in him, the prick staggered around like an over-acting drunk right out of Plautus. Then he tripped into the pool."

  "And drowned."

  "Drowned in water." Aphrodesia forced a grin. That…that's true justice. Shams was an Aquarian." She shivered, abruptly vomited bile, then slumped against Arcadia, babbling in Greek and Latin. "Krato emena, mitera…Parakalo, I don't want uncle touching me there. Krato…krato emena, mitera. Mama…mama…" A final shudder racked Aphrodisis's body, then her head sagged lower on Arcadia's shoulder.

  "Getorius, I don't want to move. Has…has she fallen asleep?

  He knelt to look at the actress's face, ravaged by chronic disease and the savage beating. Her eyes were glazed open, as if staring at the hazy landscape of a netherworld she would never describe to anyone.

  "Cara, I'm so sorry," Getorius told his wife softly. "Your patient has died."

  CHAPTER XXIII

  Working by the light of Apelles's burning workshop, Gideon's men buried the old engineer and the prostitute in the west side of the fort's garden. A short distance away they dug graves for Amir al-Shams and his followers who were killed by the initial attack or died in the boiler explosion.

  At the house, Abd al-Shira spoke to the harim women and agreed to help return them to their respective clans. Taym al-Lat said she and the sheikh's other two wives would stay and tend to their husband's grave for the mourning period of a month.

  Getorius and Arcadia slept in the sheikh's bed, so exhausted that they did not hear the golden coach of Ardashir IV, King of Greater Circesium, rumble though the gate, nor the muffled hoof sounds of his Hun guards' horses.

  Gideon and his men were gone in the morning, leaving a camel with Ibzan to take Getorius and Arcadia back to Jerusalem.

  Shortly after sunrise, the couple stood at the door of the house and looked across the courtyard at the smoldering ruins of the workshop and bathhouse. Getorius asked, "Apelles, the Greek living there. Who was he?"

  "An engineer when al-Shams took over this monastery," Arcadia replied. "You heard what he wrote. Despite Apelles's faults, were it not for him I might not have survived."

  "I'm also grateful. His self-sacrifice saved all of us."

  Arcadia rubbed at a henna design on her hand. "I…I shouldn't have gone to that Carpocratian house with Delphinus."

  "Cara, you didn't know what to expect. The deacon told his uncle that he was attending a literary group with Kerinthos. This scandal certainly will end any ecclesiastical ambitions he might have entertained, or that his bishop uncle had for him. More than likely Delphinus will spend a year doing penance in some remote desert monastery." Getorius turned to hold Arcadia tightly again. "There's so much to tell you. When I met Juvenal I didn't found out who Kerinthos was, but I'm sure the bishop knows more about him than he told me."

  Arcadia recalled, "Delphinus said his uncle wanted Jerusalem to be a patriarchate. If If Juvenal expected to be appointed to the position, this disgrace may have cost him a higher church office." She noticed Abd al-Shira working at the west side of the garden. "There's our guide. He's placing stones on the graves of the dead Bedouins."

  "Al-Shira is staying here to help return the sheikh's women to their clans."

  "Getorius, I haven't thanked him for finding me."

  "We're leaving shortly." He looked toward the animal pens. "Ibzan found camel saddles among the sheikh's stolen goods. Instead of that tent he's fitting a saddle for you on the camel going back. I'll ride one of the sheikh's horses to allow a more rapid journey. We might even arrive in Jerusalem by late afternoon."

  "First, I want to thank al-Shira."

  "Then do it now and I'll go with you."

  The guide had gathered stones that edged a weedy path and knelt to arrange them on mounds of earth heaped over the bodies that Gideon's men had buried.

  A sheep, its throat ritually cut, lay at the center of the mounds, the animal's glistening jugular blood seeping into still-damp earth.

  Getorius asked, "Al-Shira, what are you doing?"

  "Physician, difficult to explain." He looked up without his usual grin. "Evil jinn inside these men make them bandits. Suruf al-dahr…what you Latin call fatum"

  "Fate?"

  Al-Shira eased a stone toward the center of a mound. "My father say, 'Drop clay pot many time, one time will break.' Their fate is to die here."

  Getorius nudged a rock with his foot. "So, what are all these for?"

  "Heavy stone. Keep jinn inside. Not come out to other men."

  Arcadia noted, "You sacrificed a sheep."

  "Aywa. Make nafs…breath-soul…happy. Our custom."

  She leaned down to touch his tunic sleeve. "Tthank you for saving me from the sheikh."

  Al-Shira stood up, flashing a grin. "I kwayiss morshid? Good guide?"

  "A very fine guide. I feel safe for the first time in days."

  "I help women here, go back to Jerusalem, then see my Zayda and baby."

  Getorius said, "We may still be at the mansio. Come find us there."

  "Shokran" He bowed and touched his brow. "Asalaam alaykom. Safe journey."

  "One last thing…" Arcadia went to late-blooming helicanthus plants near the garden wall and broke off several stems to place on the mounds of Apelles and Aphrodisia. She stood silent for a moment, remembering. Cosmas, I thank you for sending me Apelles. I'm not sure why Aphrodisia came into my life, but may she find a measure of redemption by saving me from certain death.

  Getorius touched her shulder. "Arcadia, we should go."

  She wiped away a tear and turned to walk with her husband to Ibzan.

  * * *

  His knees clutching the camel's forequarters, the mute Izban, wearing a Bedouin tunic and headdress, Ibzan urged the animal to a full trot with leg signals. Behind him, Arcadia rode on a saddle that was set high on the beast's hump. Getorius followed alongside on a magnificent stallion that might have been the sheikh's personal mount.

  The road followed the left bank of a deep ravine where sand glistened with pools of water from recent rainfalls. By midmorning the riders had reached a small oasis about five miles east of the Jordan River. Ibzan signaled a halt to rest the camel and allow Getorius's horse to drink. Arcadia was glad for the opportunity to climb down and ease the ache of a definitely uncomfortable ride.

  The oasis was deserted except for an old woman selling flat bread and soft camel's milk cheese. Ibzan bought portions, then offered Arcadia water from a gourd hung alongside a bucket at a well. He took his share of food and sat alone with the camel and grazing stallion.

  Arcadia rubbed her backside and leaned against a tree. "I think I'll stand to eat. Getorius, were you able to persuade Delphinus to tell you where he had taken me?"

  "While I explain, let me wash off make-up smudged from your tears." He wet his sweat cloth and wiped away streaks on her face. "Delphinus didn't tell me. I found out about you because al-Shira went off to find a special argan tree that he wanted to grow in his village. He traced the source to an area near the Sheep Pool Gate."

  "That Carpocratian house was close by?"

  "So we later discovered. Al-Shira had taken me on the wall ramparts to see the Mount of Olives. A lame camel collided with a donkey while going through the gate."

  "With a tent on its back." Arcadia shuddered at the recollection. "I…I was inside."

  "Our guide became suspicious and tracked the camel to the nearest oasis. You were kept there overnight." He decided to tell her about Saturnilos. "Cara, you're still upset, but I think you should know this."

  "Know what?"

  "We were all wrong about our galley-master."

  "Wrong? No, he belonged to that obscene sect. That's where he went every evening."

  "Arcadia…" Getorius shushed her mouth with his fingers. "Saturnilos had orders from Pulcheria to find these dens and report them to authorities. He fooled Olympios into showing him where Carpocratians hid at Paphos, but he knew no one here. Someone discovered his mission and killed him, stung to death by scorpions."

  "Like…like Kerinthos? Horrible!"

  "I'm convinced that Delphinus set the fire that burned down the den where he had taken you. Saturnilos's body would be destroyed, along with the scorpion pit and any evidence of Carpocratians, such as membership lists and his reports."

  "Is the deacon capable of doing that on his own? He seems such a weak person, like"—Arcadia half-laughed—"I was about to say, 'like a woman'."

  "I should talk with the bishop. Delphinus probably is in his exile punishment. Getorius noticed Ibzan gesturing him back to the mounts. "We're ready to leave. Jerusalem is about three hours away."

  "I've totally forgotten what day this might be."

  "Monandag, the kalends of November. I remember Nicias told me that Celts at Treveri still celebrated today as their ancient new year."

  "Didn't he say that the night before was especially frightening, because spirits of the dead could cross over to our world?"

  He scoffed, "Another pagan superstition that won't survive. We'd better go."

  The road was paved from the oasis to a stone bridge over the Jordan River. After the camel crossed the span, Arcadia asked Ibzan if she could see the camp where she treated a sick girl. She remembered Litia and worried about what might have happened to the child. He reluctantly agreed. When they reached the camp site, the oasis was deserted. The sheikh had moved his family to their winter camp. Bare tent circles sprouted new grass, and migrating wildfowl had taken over the pond.

  * * *

  The trio passed through the Sheep's Pool Gate during the eleventh hour. Ibzan directed the camel along the Via Emporia Minor, then cut through to the Maior. He stopped the beast about twenty paces short of the Basilica of the Holy Sepulcher and made signs that he was taking the horse. Getorius dismounted and handed up the reins, then grasped the Judean's hand. "Pax tecum, Ibzan. Peace to you and Gideon."

  After he helped Arcadia down from the camel's saddle, Ibzan shook the horse's reins and turned the camel toward the Neapolis Gate.

  Walking toward the basilica, Arcadia recalled, "Husband, you never told me who those Judeans were. I may owe my life to them."

  "I'll explain later." He pointed ahead. "Look at the glow in windows of the Anastasis. A service is going on, so let's enter."

  The nave of Constantine's Great Church was ablaze with candles and oil lamps and fragrant with a haze of Arabian incense. The gold-leaf coffers of the ceiling reflected on marble walls and a mosaic floor of colored tiles. People in attendance stood close to the apse, listening to an archdeacon on a raised pulpit chant a gospel in Greek. Ceremonial vessels of a Eucharist—chalice, paten, cruets of wine and water—were on the altar.

  "What is happening?" Arcadia wondered. "This isn't a feast day."

  "Perhaps they're already installing a new bishop to replace Juvensal? Let's get closer to the front."

  The couple edged their way forward through a throng of worshippers who stared at Arcadia's henna designs. Delphinus stood with other ordained clergy inside a marble railing that separated them from the nave. He wore the chasuble of a presbyter: twin red stripes ran the length of his garment and decorated the hem of the sleeves.

  The abbot and monks of Holy Serapion, along with members of religious orders located within Jerusalem, stood opposite the clergymen. Further back in the apse, Bishop Juvenal sat on an episcopal throne behind the altar. A white stole draped over his red chasuble had equal-armed crosses, sewn in gold thread, at each end. The clergyman's gilt crosier, and jeweled pectoral cross, glinted in the blaze of candlelight.

  "Juvenal is presiding over a Eucharistic celebration," Getorius whispered, "so I was wrong about his dismissal. Perhaps news about the Carpocratians hasn't yet reached the Metropolitan at Caesarea."

  "Delphius is wearing a presbyter's chasuble," Arcadia noted. "How can that be?"

  The archdeacon finished chanting the scriptural passage and held up a heavy Gospel codex in veneration. After he intoned a Greek antiphon, the congregation chanted in response. Juvenal stood and walked to the pulpit, his crosier thumping time to his solemn stride. He climbed the stairs and stood for a moment, looking over hushed worshippers, then addressed them in Greek. "Adelphoi kai Adelphai"

  A white-haired deacon translated his words into Latin. "Brothers and Sisters, thirty-three years ago Basil of Caesarea invited the bishops of Pontus to commemorate the holy martyrs with him on a common day. Ephrem the Syrian and, more recently, John Chrysostom ordained a general observance at Constantinopolis. It is therefore fitting that in this Holy City where the first martyr, Blessed Stephen, was stoned to death, a day should be set aside to honor all those who so gloriously witnessed for the Faith. Therefore, in this Martyrium, built by our God-beloved Constantine, I, Juvenal, Bishop of Jerusalem, declare this first day of November a Commemoratio Confessorum, and celebrate a Eucharist to the memory of all Holy Saints who gave testimony."

  Juvenal paused, took a vellum sheet from his sleeve, waved it aloft, and continued in Latin. "Brothers and Sisters, I show you a copy of the letter that I have sent by courier to Her Piety, Augusta Aelia Pulcheria, at Constantinopolis."

  Astonished, Getorius murmured, "Pulcheria? Is that a petition to make Jerusalem a Patriarchate?"

  "The Augusta does have the emperor's ear."

  "Thus I share this with you, Brothers and Sisters." Juvenal read, 'It is with great rejoicing that I announce to Your Piety the discovery and eradication of a nest of Carpocratian vipers ensconced in the Most Holy City of Jerusalem. The leaders of this insidious heresy have either fled, and perished in the Judean desert, or were consumed in retributive fire after their house of iniquity was struck by a thunderbolt sent by Divine Vengeance'."

  "Why this public disclosure of his disgrace?" Getorius's question in an angry half-whisper turned heads to scowl at him.

  Arcadia said, "Let's hear the bishop out."

  "'In all modesty I admit to a role in the uncovering of this perversion of Christian orthodoxy with the help of my nephew, Deacon Delphinus, a youth of unfortunate circumstances. After the death of his mother, my beloved sister, I was pleased to raise him in my household as a devout Christian. Since the passing of Deacon Athanasios, his predecessor, Delphinus has faithfully supervised the Holy Cave of Our Lord Jesus Christ's Burial and Resurrection. Once I heard rumors about the existence of these Carpocratians from Kerinthos of Bethany, a benefactor and friend recently deceased, I enlisted the aid of my nephew. Delphinus infiltrated the cult and reported to me on its location and membership. Despite the hazards of this undertaking, my beloved nephew was more than eager to help expose this heresy in all its insidiousness'."

  "Unbelievable!" Getorius murmured. "The bishop is taking credit for exposing the Carpocratians and exonerating Delphinus from any connection with the cult. He's even been ordained presbyter as a 'reward'."

  Arcadia covered his mouth with a hand. "Shhh…Juvenal isn't finished."

  "'Lest I tire you with needless details, Your Serenity, suffice it to report that when I learned the location of these heretics, I immediately informed civil authorities, yet an act of Divine Providence reduced the house to ashes. Delphinus himself witnessed this miraculous intervention and his testimony is attached'."

  Juvenal digressed to tell his listeners about his efforts to make Jerusalem the seat of a Patriarchate, then continued reading his appeal to Aelia Pulcheria.

  "'Your Piety, it is in no way a criticism of Patriarch Janus Nephalios to report that His Beneficence was unaware of a heresy existing within his diocese. Because the Patriarchate is located in Caesarea Palaestina, a Holy See so distant cannot be cognizant of each happening at Jerusalem that might endanger the Pax Ecclesiae. I have long believed that the Holy City itself should be a See equal in authority with the present jurisdictions of Rome, Antioch, Alexandria, and Constantinopolis. However illustrious those cities may claim to be, Our Blessed Lord never ministered at any of those locations. The Holy City of Jerusalem abounds with sites sacred to both Christians and Hebrew precursors of Our Messiah'." Juvenal folded the sheet, slipped it into his sleeve, and said, "Brothers and Sisters," it is my hope that the Augusta will look favorably upon my petition. Let us continue our Eucharistic celebration." The bishop raised his hand in blessing, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

  As Juvenal and the archdeacon went to the altar, a deacon reminded catechumens, preparing for baptism on the next Feast of the Resurrection, to exit the basilica.

  When the bishop led the Profession of Faith, a disgusted Getorius grumbled, "I've heard enough. Juvenal didn't even mention Saturnilos's role as a representative of the Augusta in uncovering those Carpocratians. There must be some record in his room about his findings at Paphos and Ascalon."

  Arcadia asked, "How can you get inside?"

  "I've been in his room where I found Pulcheria's mandate for him to search out Carpocratian dens. Her authorization for us was with it, but I didn't have time to read what it said. I should try again." Getorius grasped his wife's hand and pushed his way through to the entrance.

  At the mansio, Ruth had finished storing her travel bags in an atrium ante-room, ready to leave in the morning. When she returned to the manager's office, she saw Getorius and Arcadia come in. Her face broke in to a radiant smile.

  "My dear, you're safe!" she exclaimed, hurrying to embrace Arcadia. "All praise to the Holy One, Blessed be He." She stepped back in shock. "Those…those strange designs on your face and hands!"

  To reassure her, Arcadia jested, "I almost became Queen of Greater Circesium."

  Getorius said, "Domina, we have much to tell you, yet have barely eaten all day. Will you join us for a meal at that Syrian tavern across from the basilica?"

  "The Berytus? I've taken food, Surgeon but will gladly come and rejoice in your wife's return."

 

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