The Saint's Mistress (28 page)

Read The Saint's Mistress Online

Authors: Kathryn Bashaar

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Historical Fiction, #Historical Romance

you doubting the relic?”

“Certainly not, Bishop, or not so much doubting as wanting to help you be certain.”

“I’m already certain, and when the vial is presented at Mass this Sunday, it will be obvious

which is the true faith and those who want baptism will come here and not to Saint Cyprian’s.”

“I see.” Weary from my walk to town, I sank down on one of his chairs without being invited.

He ignored my breach of etiquette, just shaking a finger at me. “Think what you like; this

will be good for those peasants you love so much, too. You’re not the only one who sees how

terrified they are. I’m only trying to bring them some comfort.”

“We’re going to have to bring them more than comfort, Bishop. They’ll be starving soon.

Nearly the whole wheat crop went to Rome this year, and what little is left is being hoarded or

has been carried off by people leaving town. Anything at all left over will just be scooped up by

the Aitheopes if they come.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do?”

“Butcher our own stock. The Aitheopes will just carry them off anyway. It will provide meat

for you and free up feed to grind into bread for the peasants.”

“And what will they eat next year when the same thing happens? You know, Rome will raise

taxes if they have to defend us against the Aitheopes.”

“Defend us? They’ve abandoned us.”

He shrugged, and popped an olive into his mouth.

The idea didn’t come to me until just that moment. “Plant the acres that Monnica left and

dedicate them to feeding the poor.”

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“We’ll see. For now, the milk will give them hope,” Quintus insisted.

He spit the olive pit onto the floor and poured himself a goblet of red wine. “You are excused,

sister,” he told me.

116

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Quintus presented his vial at Mass the following Sunday, and, as he had predicted, our

number of converts that week did exceed the Donatists’. There were also two murders in the

town that week. Har, a Saxon slave, was killed trying to steal a chicken from a peasant’s yard,

and a shopkeeper was killed by a mob when he claimed – accurately, as it turned out – that his

storeroom was empty and he had nothing to sell. People were half-starving and on edge, and

nobody believed the rumor that the Aitheope army had disbanded.

I arrived on Wednesday for my weekly visit with Quintus to find him in a panic.

He slammed his office door behind us, and turned to me with a face like a storm about to

break at sea. “They’ve stolen it!”

“Stolen what?” But as soon as I asked it, I knew the answer to my own question. “Your relic?

Who?”

“Who would have reason to steal it, Leona? You’re the most intelligent woman I’ve ever

known, perhaps the
only
intelligent woman I’ve ever known. Use your head.”

“The Donatists. Are you sure?”

Quintus flopped onto his velvet-upholstered couch. “They’re using it already. They’re

claiming that it has special protective powers.” He rolled his eyes, and I refrained from

reminding him that he had strongly implied the very same thing himself, when the vial was in his

possession.

“How in the world did they get hold of it?”

“I suspect that stupid Banco went to them with it. I haven’t seen him since it disappeared. So

now I need a new servant, too.” He rubbed his forehead, and gestured for me to bring him his

wine decanter. “We have to get it back.”

I poured him half a cup and he motioned for more. “Bishop, how much does it really matter?

You surely can’t think that God’s love for us is any more or less depending on whether or not we

have an ancient vial of dried-up saint’s milk?”

“No, of course not, but
they
do. The people. They’re simple. They need signs and miracles.”

“Maybe they’re simple because we keep them simple, Bishop. Maybe they need signs because

that’s what we offer them.”

He gave me a sour look that let me understand that he thought my idea utter nonsense. “We

have to get it back,” he repeated. “Our enemies are getting most of the converts again now.”

“Our enemies? Father, if I may, that’s a pretty strong word for fellow Christians. I thought

Satan was our Enemy.”

Quintus waved an impatient hand and took a quick, deep swig of his wine. “Aurelius has

much to answer for, forever teaching you that you had a brain. A brain is a powerful tool; women

don’t have the capacity to use it correctly. But, do try. Think, Sister. Look around you. Do you

see legions in Thagaste an more? Are the roads as safe as they were when you went back and

forth freely to Carthage in your youth? The Empire is dying. What can take its place? Shall we

leave it to barbarians? Will they keep the roads safe and the seas open to trade? Will they keep

the people working and fed? No. The Church must take over where the Empire is failing.”

I set the wine decanter back on its table in the corner. “Won’t we have a better chance of

success if we work together?”

“We’ll have a better chance of success if we are united around one truth. Heresies must be

stamped out. You took vows. It is your duty to help.” He pointed a finger at me.

117

“What would you have me do, Bishop?”

“Your brother Tito is one of them, and, I believe, close to their bishop.”

“I don’t know that I’d say he’s close.”

Quintus ignored this. “I also happen to know that he and his wife stole certain items from the

home of an old friend of yours not too long ago.”

The trend of his thinking hit me like a slap. “Go on.”

“The legions may be gone, but we still have magistrates and they are still bound to uphold the

law. The mildest penalty for such a theft is loss of a hand.”

I folded my arms. “And you want me to ask him to commit another theft.”

“It isn’t a theft to restore something precious to its rightful owner.”

“I want protection for him.”

“God will protect and reward him.”

“I want
you
to protect and reward him.” I approached closer to Quintus and leaned over to

look him in the eye. “I want him and his family sent away from Thagaste. Find him a spot

somewhere else, on Church lands.”

“Yes, yes, all right.”

“Your word as a Christian.”

Quintus looked up at me sadly. “Why is it that you never trust me? Yes, you have my word as

a Christian. I will find your brother and his family a place outside Thagaste.”

“A good place. Not the tin mines or something.”

“A good place. My word as a Christian.”

I nodded. “I think I can persuade him.”

Night still chilled the air when Tito and his family crept into Quintus’ courtyard, where

Quintus and I waited for them.

Tito reached into a fold of his tunic and withdrew the vial. “I hope I did right,” he said.

“Father, tell me, will I go to hell if I die on the road today?”

“No, no, of course not, son,” Quintus replied, snatching the vial. “You will go straight to

heaven and see Jesus.”

“I hope that’s right,” Tito repeated. I had never seen carefree Tito so worried, and felt sorry

that my Bishop’s dispute with the Donatists had caught my brother in such a dilemma. Quintus

had found them work on Church lands near Hippo Regius on the Numidian coast.

I hugged my brother and his wife and the children and gave them some cheese to eat on the

journey. “God go with you,” I said. “If you can find a messenger coming back this way, send us

word that you’re all right.”

“And with you, my sister. Pray for us.”

Tito and his family walked out into the cool black night then to meet with the carter that I had

demanded that Quintus pay to transport them, Tito carrying on his back their few possessions,

Pala and Julia each carrying a baby. I offered a silent prayer for their safety.

“You have your relic back,” I said to Quintus.

“Yes, and I’ll take better care of it now. It will remain in a locked box, in a location that

nobody knows but me. Who could have imagined that a servant could be so dishonest as to take

it to my enemies?” He shook his head.

I realized that he was oblivious to the irony of his complaint, and held my tongue.

We walked back towards Quintus’ palace, breathing the cold dawn air. “Well,” he continued,

“I have news that I think will interest you. Aurelius and Adeodonatus will be here any day. I

118

myself wouldn’t travel under current circumstances, but I had a letter from Aurelius yesterday. It

was dated Ides of last month and he said that they would be underway in ten days, so we should

see them here any time.”

Joy leapt in my heart like a fish. “That is good news to me, Bishop,” I replied.

“You shall have as much time with your son as you wish,” Quintus assured me. “They’re

coming to settle the matter of the inheritance. When Aurelius’ mother left this life, she left a few

acres of the family’s land to the Church. We have his brother’s seal on the transaction, but not

Aurelius’ yet.” Quintus sighed. “It will be good to see him. I miss the company of other educated

men, and I always felt that he surpassed all the rest of us in brilliance.”

I could see that he was sincere. “It will be good for you to be reunited with him for a time.”

“Of course, we were all sinful during our time together in Carthage. So sinful, and yet happy,

weren’t we? That’s how we are so easily tempted to sin, because, from a distance the flames of

perdition feel like the warm glow of a hearth fire. Still, I miss our old friends.” He gazed off into

the distance for a second, and then recovered himself. “Well, a good morning’s work already,

sister, and I thank you again and will keep your brother and his family in my prayers. I’ll send

for you when your son arrives.”

“Yes, Bishop.”

He slopped a sign of the cross before me, and I walked into the gray early morning, humming

with joy at the prospect of reunion with Adeo.

119

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I paced Quintus’ anteroom, my heart buzzing in my chest. Every few minutes I glanced into

the front hall to see if anyone approached, then slumped back into the chair, sat for a few

minutes, rose and paced again and then glanced back into the hall and started the whole cycle

over again. Quintus had sent word this morning that Aurelius and Adeo had arrived the previous

night, but by the time I reached town, they were away from the bishop’s house and I had to wait.

This time when I ventured into the hall and looked through the open portal, my heart stopped.

Was it? I squinted. It was surely Aurelius, but where was Adeo? A young man walked beside

him, but I couldn’t see my son.

As they approached, my heart restarted wildly, and I ran out the portal and down the short

lane towards them. The man – no longer a boy, of course, after six years – walking on Aurelius’

left was our own Adeo, nearly as tall as his father.

When he saw me coming, he opened his arms and smiled, and I slammed into him, laughing

and crying at the same time. Quickly, though, I leaned back to get a good look at him, my hands

on either side of his face. How like his father he looked, with his thick, curling black hair and his

straight, white teeth, and his heavy brow, his eyes as round and as brown as a horse’s, with thick,

dark lashes. His jaw was squarer than Aurelius’, the bridge of his nose flatter like my own. I took

in every detail of him, my hands on his warm, smooth cheeks, my tears choking any words I

might have spoken. My boy, the only child of my body. I hugged him again, my cheek to his

chest and cried unabashedly.

“I’m happy to see you, Mother,” he said, patting my back, and I knew that I was embarrassing

him, so I flicked away my tears and tossed my head.

“You’ve grown tall,” I said.

“I may pass Father yet,” he replied, although, at 18, he was still an inch or so shy of Aurelius’

6 feet.

I looked at Aurelius for the first time, composing myself. “Aurelius,” I said, nodding slightly.

Eyes focused away from me, he also gave a brief nod. “It’s good to see you looking well,

Leona,” he said. A few strands of gray had appeared in his black hair, I saw, and the skin around

his eyes was creased from long hours in the sun.

“I was sorry to hear of your mother’s passing.”

Aurelius’ voice was harsh and authoritative. “She’ll be raised again to eternal life when our

Lord comes again.”

“Of course,” I agreed. “Did she – she must have been pleased that you accepted the true faith?

I’m glad she had that comfort before she died.”

“Yes. “

“And you travelled safely?”

“Completely. I brought news for your bishop on that score. The Aitheope army has returned

to their own lands. They did some damage on the borders, but the threat to travelers and to small

cities like Thagaste has passed.”

“Thanks be to God,” I said, thinking of my brother and his family, probably still on the road.

“We’ll want to wash before supper,” Aurelius said. “We’ll see you later in the bishop’s dining

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