Chapter 11

 

Athens, Greece, September 415

 

OLYMPIODORUS OF THEBES saluted Leontius of Antioch with his wine goblet. “We are a dying breed, my friend, flocking to the Academy of Athens, the last great bastion of free thought. We who dare to deny that ridiculous triple-god of the Christians congregate here in hopes of peace and liberty.”

“We’ve had quite an influx of your native Egyptians, since Cyril became Bishop in Alexandria.” Leontius shook his head. “Did you know the Christians have added a Mother Goddess to their pantheon and daily elevate dead men and women to the rank of saint—whatever that is. They will soon worship more gods than our ancestors!”

“Those who do not know philosophy and history are most intolerant. Educated Christians recognize the roots of their resurrection myth in the mysteries of Egypt’s Osiris and Greece’s Dionysius. They accept the Christian God as another manifestation of the One.”

“Then why do those educated ones profess belief in Christ?” A soft voice from the door drew his attention.

Olympiodorus turned to the questioner. His friend’s eleven-year-old daughter carried a tray of olives, goat cheese, oil and bread into the solar. The child already showed signs of great beauty: clear pale skin, regular features, golden curls and remarkable blue eyes that in some light looked violet. She set the tray on a low table between the men.

“Athenais, my sweet.” Leontius smiled at his daughter and patted a cushion next to him. “An excellent question, which I’m sure our guest will answer in full.”

Olympiodorus, eyes shining, smiled at the girl. He had known Leontius for many years and dandled Athenais on his knee when she was but an infant. The girl had a good head for learning and her father indulged her. “Let me ask you a question in the way of the Great Socrates. Why do you think people believe and profess any religion?”

Athenais sat next to her father, mouth pursed in thought. “They have a calling? A true belief in the teachings of that religion?”

“Very good.” He nodded. “I have met true believers of many faiths in my lifetime: priests of Serapis, Delphic oracles, Zoroastrian fire worshipers, Jewish rabbis, Christian archimandrites—all dedicate their lives to their gods and live strictly according to those precepts. They would gladly die for their faiths. But they are few, and followers of these religions are many. What calls these others?”

“Tradition, the religion of their ancestors, and community,” Athenais said with conviction.

“That is most people. As your father follows the tenets of the great philosophers, so he teaches you and your brothers. It is easy to believe what your family and tribe believe. That is why it is against the religious practices of many to allow marriage outside the tribe. Outside beliefs bring strife and disharmony.”

“Then why do so many people convert to Christianity and leave the religion of their fathers?” The girl’s forehead puckered in a frown.

“Ah, that is an astute question and gets at the heart of my discussion with your father.”

She turned a questioning eye on Leontius.

“Olympiodorus and I were discussing the latest law from Constantinople. It seems our emperor, under the advice of his most pious sister, has banished all non-Christians from his administration and leadership of the army.”

“Oh, Father!” Her eyes went wide. “Does that mean you won’t get your chair at the Academy?”

“No, my pet.” He patted her hand. “Olympiodorus still has some influence with the Athenian council and they make the appointment. The Augusta’s prohibition will not go so far down as a lowly chair of rhetoric. But your brothers…?” He shrugged. “They have greater ambitions. If they want to get ahead in government, I’m afraid they will have to convert.”

Athenais looked at Olympiodorus with wide eyes. “So, the reason many convert is to gain power and prestige?”

“Some. Most convert just to get along, to avoid persecution. It has ever been the way of people to follow their leaders, if it requires little effort. Some few will object on principle, but the majority will do as told to live their lives in peace. Many people take on the new beliefs while clinging to the rituals of the old, thus making a hybrid. What’s the difference between the stories of the resurrected Osiris from my land and resurrected Christ of Palestine? A matter of detail. The new religion is only a few centuries old and has already absorbed many holy days, rituals and mysteries of its predecessors. Easter service is taken from the Jewish Passover and celebration of Christ’s birth is at the same time many people mark the longest night of the year and the return of the sun.”

“That is why religion is for the masses and philosophy is for the few, my dear.” Leontius smiled. “Most people are incapable of the thought and dedication necessary to attain knowledge of the One. They are content with ritual and mysteries, while we philosophers ever search for the Truth.”

“I see.”

“Then off with you, child. Go study, while I continue to discuss business with my guest.”

Athenais hopped off the divan and gave Olympiodorus a decorous curtsey before exiting.

“A brilliant child, my friend. And only two years younger than the Emperor?”

Leontius nodded.

“Anthemius, my patron at court, is gone, but a few men in the capital still heed my words. I will soon be engaged to write a history of our young emperor and will be much about the court.” Olympiodorus gazed thoughtfully at the door. Isidorus had spread the word among the Hellenes that he was looking for an appropriate maid for a very advantageous match. “In a few years, Athenais will be a grown woman. It might be in her best interest to live with her relatives in Constantinople. You have some there, I believe?”

“Yes, my wife’s brother and his wife. Asclepiodotus is already installed in a position of importance in the palace.”

“Excellent! I will seek him out when I go back to Constantinople.”

“My sons can accompany you. They plan to move to the capital and seek their fortunes in government. Of course, that means they will have to be baptized.” Leontius looked sorrowful. “Your discussion with Athenais touched a sore spot in my heart. It’s a sad thing when your sons forsake you and your chosen beliefs. I had thought at least one would show some interest in philosophy, but I am left only with a daughter who cannot follow in my footsteps.”

“Leontius, I thought better of you! How can you forget Sosipatra of Pergamon or Hypatia of Alexandria?” He tutted. “Both famed for their learning and teaching, and only the most recent among a long line of lady philosophers. Why, Plutarch, head of our Academy, teaches both his son Hierius and his daughter Asclepigenia. I understand he favors the daughter and believes her more capable of understanding the more subtle nuances of philosophy than her brother. If Athenais wants to learn and teach philosophy, I say let her do it!”

“No!” Leontius shook his head violently. “You know what happened to Hypatia! We old men can rail against the Christians, but they are the future for our children. I would not have my daughter meet the same grisly fate as the Lady Philosopher of Alexandria. Athenais will find her own fortune, but not as a philosopher.”

“As you wish, my friend.” Olympiodorus soothed his colleague. “Athenais is young. All will be well in time. I will stay in touch and help your family as much as I can in these dangerous times.”

“You were ever a good friend.” Leontius reached across to clasp his forearm. “Now, if you can only get me out of this ridiculous initiation rite for the Academy, I’ll be forever in your debt. I’m too old to be pushed and pulled at the baths. It offends my dignity!”

Olympiodorus laughed. “If you want the chair, you are the object in the tug of war at the baths! It’s tradition.” His friend scowled, but Olympiodorus knew he would go through with the ritual. Leontius was nothing if not a traditionalist!

 

*****

 

Imperial Palace, November 415

 

“WHAT DO YOU THINK SHE WANTS OF US?” General Ardaburius asked his father-in-law as they strode into the palace. They made a sharp physical contrast: Ardaburius’ dark countenance and stocky body with Plinta’s fair features and tall stature. But they were closely aligned in military philosophy and bound by family ties. They were also close in age, his father-in-law being only a handful of years older. “Does she mean to strip us of our commands?”

“I think not. She could have done that by decree. This meeting feels different. I think she wants to see for herself if we of barbarian heritage have horns and hooves. It’s been fifteen years since that idiot Gainas rebelled against Arcadius and occupied Constantinople. He tarred me and all who share his Gothic heritage with treason and rebellion. I believe the Augusta is rethinking that policy. She has reordered the civil government to her satisfaction and I believe she turns her eyes on the military.”

Ardaburius nodded. “She would do well to put her best generals in the field with the Huns stirring up dust in the north and the Persians restless in the east. We have sat on the sidelines too long, while those of lesser talent moved ahead.”

Arriving at the imperial family’s personal quarters, they were relieved of their swords and knives by the guards. Ever since the incident involving General Lucius over seven years ago, no weapons of any kind were allowed in the emperor’s or Augusta’s presence, except for the imperial guards. Ardaburius understood the restriction but felt naked without his weapons. The guard opened an elaborately carved door onto an odd domestic scene.

The musky scent of incense pervaded the Augusta’s antechamber, tickling his nose. Ardaburius stifled a sneeze. He knew of Pulcheria’s pious ways but was unprepared for the monastic atmosphere of her personal space. There was little of comfort in the spare room; the only object of beauty, a personal altar and gold cross in a niche. The Augusta herself dressed in modest woolen clothes and wore the diadem over a linen hair covering as proof of her imperial identity. She sat on a plain chair, at a serviceable wooden table, dictating to a scribe. Two other girls, minus the diadem but similarly attired, sat on a divan, sewing and talking quietly. They must be the younger princesses, Ardaburius thought, watching them closely. They seemed at peace with their religious vocation, but he was glad his own daughter showed no such inclination. It seemed such a restricted life.

Ardaburius followed Plinta’s lead, making his obeisance before the young Augusta. She seemed innocuous, slender to the point of gauntness, plain of features except for the brown eyes, which sparkled with intelligence and something more. Curiosity? Ambition? It was not hard to believe she outmaneuvered Isidorus and his faction at the tender age of fifteen. The military had a tradition of young brilliant leaders going back to Alexander the Great. Had she been the eldest son showing such promise, no one would object. But…

“Generals, you may rise.” She nodded to servants who brought two folding camp chairs. “Please sit. You may speak freely in my sisters’ presence.” She indicated the two girls sewing. “They have little knowledge of war and politics but keep me company.”

Ardaburius now looked on the two younger princesses with some interest. It was unlikely they were there as chaperones. Was the Augusta grooming her sisters for a more active role?

The men seated themselves, accepted the offer of well-watered wine, and declined the offer of food. Ardaburius appreciated the light vintage from Southern Thrace but wished for something stronger. He was used to drinking his wine undiluted.

Once the niceties of hospitality were satisfied, Plinta bowed his head slightly and asked. “Augusta, we are honored you asked us to join you. How may we serve?”

“I hope you will serve me well.” The Augusta’s steady eyes speared each man.

Ardaburius straightened his shoulders. Good! He was anxious to be back in the first ranks after several years under suspicion because of his barbarian Alan heritage.

“You know I’m purging pagans and Jews from my brother’s government and the army,” Pulcheria continued.

“But only from positions of responsibility?” Plinta gave a sweeping gesture. “If you dismiss the non-Christian soldiers, you will cripple the army. Many worship Mithras. Most who are Christian follow Arius’ teachings.”

“An army of pagans and Arians. I sometimes curse the day Emperor Constantius sent those heretic priests of Arius to convert the barbarians. A few years delay and you all would be orthodox and save the empire much strife.” Pulcheria gave a sour smile. “You are a Goth, are you not? And your son-in-law an Alan? I assume you are Arian Christian, as well?”

“We come from those tribes and follow those beliefs, but we are Romans first. That is where our loyalty and duty lie.” Plinta frowned. “We have served the empire honorably…when allowed.”

“From what I hear, General, you are the best in the field and wasted in your current administrative duties.”

Plinta allowed a small smile. “I’m grateful for the praise and strive to live up to it.”

“I believe Anthemius erred in his caution these last several years. Your peoples have lived in the city peaceably for a full generation. I have faith in the civilizing influence of our dynastic city.” She raised an eyebrow. “And I am not so foolish as to cut the heart out of the army that protects my people. My Uncle Honorius made that mistake and has battled barbarians that Rome trained for the past eight years. Arians are still Christian, if unorthodox. We both believe Christ died for our sins.”

Smart girl, Ardaburius thought. I had feared you too bound to your orthodoxy to act with such pragmatism.

She turned to Ardaburius, as if reading his thoughts. “And you, General? Can you speak for yourself?”

“I have pledged my honor and my life to emperor and empire.” He bowed his head. “I will serve you faithfully in any capacity you command.”

“Good. These are your new assignments” She handed each of them a scroll, sealed with the emperor’s imprint. “Anatolius will command the Army in the East. You will each be given an army in the emperor’s presence. If you serve us well, there will be honors and rewards.” She looked directly at Plinta. “Possibly even a consulship.”

“There is no higher honor than guarding the city and the emperor.” Plinta bowed again.

Keeping us close! But our presence gives us more opportunities to influence the imperial court.

“Thank you, Augusta. Your trust is all the honor I wish.” Ardaburius flashed a brief smile. “Could I make one small request?”

She nodded assent, frowning slightly.

“Our wives and children reside in the city. They make do with religious services in private homes. I ask that we be allowed to build churches and worship God in peace and freedom.”

“Your faith and commitment to your people serve you well. You have my permission.” She smiled. “Perhaps, someday, your people will see the error of their ways and those churches will take the orthodox position that Christ is of, and equal to, God, not created by and subordinate to Him.”

“Perhaps, Augusta.” Ardaburius bowed in acknowledgement of this favor. His personal religious leanings were more toward the martial god Mithras, but his wife was a devout Arian Christian and he followed their tenets for her sake. He loved his wife and was happy he could please her with this news.

“Generals, I look forward to working with you.”

Ardaburius and Plinta rose and bowed at the obvious dismissal. “Long life to you, Augusta.”

In the corridor, Plinta turned to his son-in-law. “Well?”

“I think our sources on her inflexibility were exaggerated.” His white teeth flashed in a feral smile. “I believe we are out of the wilderness. Our enemies at court should be wary.”