Written in the Ashes (15 page)

There was a light rap at the door.

Hypatia looked up. “Come.”

The door opened and in strode a magnificently clad gentleman wearing a black silk
tunica
and wide black pants, the ensemble tied together with a wide sash of crimson that bound his slender waist.

The angel brightened. Here at last. The warrior. The door would open and waiting would end. The light had promised it.

The gentleman stepped lightly to Hypatia’s desk and bowed before her on one knee and then stood. She returned his gesture with a nod. “Good day, Julian of Pharos, to what do we owe the honor of this visit?”

“Greetings, Hypatia. The Nuapar have heard of the recent threats on your life. I have come to extend to you from Master Savitur and Master Junkar of Pharos an offer to post our finest Nuapar warriors as sentries at your gates.”

Hannah’s breath came short. Who was this elegant warrior? His was an animal beauty. She admired the finery of his dress, the way his black hair had been bound into one long braid that hung like a rope down his back. She felt as though she were looking at an Egyptian god brought to life.

“This is most kind of you, Julian. I believe your offer comes at an apropos moment, and I shall discuss it with the other staff. I believe I can speak for us all when I say the library would be most grateful to be under the protection of the Nuapar.”

Hannah shifted her legs on the settee and Julian spun to see who was behind him.

Hypatia cleared her throat. “Julian of Cyrene, this is Hannah of Sinai. I hope she will be our new music scholar. Hannah, Julian is the younger brother of your tutor, Synesius.”

Julian’s full lips spread into a gleaming white smile, as the Nuapar had a ritual of cleaning their teeth daily. He then bowed to Hannah respectfully. “An honor, lady.”

Hannah immediately saw in Julian the resemblance to Synesius. They had the same elegant bone structure and the same nose, but Julian’s face was more chiseled through the jaw, and his eyes were a little wider set, lacking the squint of hours spent before scrolls in dim light. And of course, Julian had a full head of hair, which lent him youth.

When Julian stood from his bow, his eyes, glowing like ocean agate, locked with Hannah’s, and a current of energy shot through her bones. She suddenly felt so faint she thought she might melt into the floor. “A pleasure, Julian of Cyrene.”

Julian saw her slave collar then, and broke their gaze. “Please give my brother my warmest regards.”

“I shall,” Hannah said, her fingers gliding up to the bronze collar at her throat. She had almost forgotten it, and now suddenly she felt she was being choked by a cold and deadly serpent.

“Hypatia, the Nuapar masters await your reply,” Julian purred.

“It is most generous, please thank them for me,” said Hypatia. Then she turned to Hannah and added. “You can see what kind of an age we live in when warriors must be employed to protect scholars.”

Julian nodded and stepped to the door. “Do give my regards to Alizar, Galinus and Gideon. Oh, and you may tell Synesius I have passed the final rites.”

Hypatia’s eyebrows lifted, clearly impressed. “I shall.”

Julian nodded to Hannah and smiled curtly, then swept out of the room as quiet as a cat.

Hannah felt the hammering in her chest begin to slow once he was gone.

Hypatia saw the questions in Hannah’s eyes. “Only the finest, most committed monks ever reach the rank of Nuapar,” she explained. “You know them because they alone wear the black robes with the red sash. The Nuapar have two masters called the
Kolossofia
. They are known as Masters Savitur and Junkar. The Kolossofia always have the same names throughout the ages. Each chooses his successor, and the successor inherits his master’s name.”

“Why do the Nuapar need two masters? One would not suffice?”

Hypatia shook her head in disapproval. “The tradition is ancient. They refuse to write down their teachings no matter how much I prod. With two masters, if anything happens to the first, the teachings are still with the second. But I have never heard of anything happening to a Kolossofia master. There are countless stories of their magical abilities. It is said that they can fly through the air, read minds, make objects levitate, see into the future, and manifest second bodies for themselves. It is all quite superstitious if you ask me. I am still too much of a scientist to believe that kind of talk.”

Hypatia collected one last scroll from the table behind her and added it to the leather satchel. “It is nearly time for my class. But there is something I would like to share with you before I go.”

Hannah nodded, intrigued.

“Hearing you sing, I was so deeply soothed. The night you played I was able to forget my burdens for an entire hour and just be swept away. It was a such a luxury; you have no idea.”

“Singing at your lecture brought me great joy.”

“Hannah, you could play for audiences like that one every night. And not just the staff, but visiting magistrates, kings, emperors. You would be everyone’s favorite, I am quite certain. We already have requests that you play for my lecture next week.”

“You do?”

Hypatia smiled and nodded, bringing a large object bound in linen up from beneath her desk. “For you,” she said, holding the bundle out to Hannah.

Hannah took and unwrapped the heavy gift. Beneath the cloth her fingers found the hard surface of polished wood and several taut strings.

The lyre.

Hannah held the golden instrument up in the light and admired its body with a musician’s eye. It was the instrument she had been given to play the night Hypatia unveiled the Celestial Clock of Archimedes. “This is a fine lyre, Hypatia. Olivewood?”

“Yes. It belonged to my mother.”

Hannah’s breath caught in her throat. “Hypatia, I could not take this from you.” She thrust the instrument toward Hypatia.

Hypatia waved her hand. “No, I insist. You need a fine instrument to accompany such an exquisite voice, and I will never find the time to learn to play. I am not musical.”

Hannah closed her eyes, scarcely able to find the words to express her deep gratitude. To be able to play upon such a beautiful instrument was the most meaningful gift anyone had ever given her. “Thank you, Hypatia. What can I do to repay you?”

Hypatia thought a moment. “Write a song that would fit with the theme of one of my lectures and come and play it for us in the library.”

Hannah fingered the strings. “What would you like me to write?”

Hypatia paused, turning her eyes up to the sky. “Sing for us of divine Love. Beauty. Truth. Sing us into the perfection of truth. That is all I could ever wish for.”

Hannah looked out the window. Another vessel was making its way out of the harbor, gliding past the island as a flock of black-headed gulls swept past the mast. There was so much to consider. She had relished playing for the people in the Great Hall. The thought of having an audience like that every night was tantalizing. But then she thought of the Parabolani, and how they had killed the young girl in the market. As if to punctuate her thought, a peacock screamed like a woman in peril from the other end of the garden.

Hannah returned Hypatia’s smile as best she could with her swollen lower lip. There was only one correct response. “Thank you. It would be an honor.”

10  

The Parabolani descended on Alizar’s house, cudgels raised and led by Peter, while Hannah was away at the library. Five men in black robes with eyes that bore dark thoughts of punishment. Jemir saw them at the wall from the upstairs landing and ran to the kitchen to send Leitah out with two quick missives, but he only had time to write the one to Synesius, to keep Hannah detained. Jemir thanked Hermes that Alizar had him schooled in writing and reading in case just such an incidence as this one arose. But now he would have to speak to them. Alone.

So.

Hannah, still elated from her performance for a group of magistrates the evening before, poured over scrolls at the library with her tutor, unaware of the brewing storm. Synesius kept her well-enthralled in her lessons. He was a devotee of the Socratic method, and so his technique of teaching depended solely upon his student’s curiosity, which was for Hannah unending. And so Hannah’s swelling stream of questions kept him in a constant state of service to her blossoming intellect, researching the various topics that interested her so that he could prepare her lessons appropriately. He discovered that the empirical girl was never satisfied with philosophical answers alone, and so he found himself recounting stories of Mediterranean lore to help her understand the way civilization, law and politics had evolved. He took her for walks through the Museion to better understand how Ptolemy had planned it.

It had never happened in all his teaching that Synesius had a student entirely unfamiliar with Hellenistic culture. He repeatedly found himself making assumptions about what Hannah must already know, only to discover as he was recounting a historical battle that she had never heard of Emperor Constantine, or thought perhaps that Rome was another Greek city. Rather than get upset with her, Synesius decided that this afternoon he would unroll a collection of maps so that she could see for herself how the world was laid out.

She traced the borders of Greece, Persia, and Asia Minor, Egypt, Nubia, Britannia, Gaul and Hispania in awe of how large the world had suddenly become to her. They spent hours reviewing cities and conquests and wars until she found with her finger the little triangle beside the Red Sea called Sinai and sighed heavily, closing her eyes. “I do not think I want to see any more maps today, Synesius,” she said.

“Certainly.” Synesius nodded. At that moment a slave appeared with the letter from Jemir on a silver tray. Synesius read the scroll and concealed his emotion perfectly. “Take this to Hypatia,” was all he said. Then he suggested to Hannah they take a walk out in the garden.

The days were growing unseasonably warm, so much so that drought was perched on everyone’s tongues as the constriction upon the economy squeezed their meals from their hands before their mouths were fed. The years when the waters of the Nile were low, the upper delta received most of the water of the flood, leaving a mere trickle for the lower delta to irrigate the fields. The amount of fruit in the market was dwindling, as was the grain. There was an abundance of fish, but the populace was growing uneasy and restless all the same. But that particular day, concerns aside, the afternoon was lovely with a gentle angle of light and a refreshing ocean breeze that gave the merchants an excuse to close their shops early and head to the beaches.

As they walked beneath the wide
peripatos
, Hannah contemplated the morning readings from
The Golden Ass
of Apuleius as she looked up at the magnificent columns, ten times the height of the surrounding palms, painted with colorful Egyptian designs and scenes. “Synesius, tell me why Eros abandoned Psyche. How did she displease him?” They had taken the path that led over a small bridge alongside the pond where otiose green turtles were sunning themselves on flat stones.

Synesius explained. “She exposed him in the light. It was their agreement that he be permitted to bed her in darkness.”

“But he fled and allowed all of those terrible things to befall her.”

Synesius pressed his fingertips together in his scholarly manner as they walked. “She would not have become immortal had he intervened in her fate. His persistence in their separation actually led to their ultimate union.”

“I believe he was a coward.”

Synesius smiled and said nothing, carefully concealing his growing concern in awaiting word from Jemir as the hour passed.

Hannah went on thinking out loud. “I do not think he loved her if he could do such a thing to her. What honor could there be in abandonment?”

As they walked, their footsteps fell in and out of rhythm. Synesius sighed. “You cannot impose your will upon love’s course. Love determines its own course. This is the message of the tale.”

It was an odd comment from an unwed scholar and so Hannah decided to challenge him. “And I assume you are an expert on the subject then?”