What others are saying about Selene of Alexandria "Readers will be captivated. Fans of Gillian Bradshaw’s classic The Beacon at Alexandria may especially enjoy Selene and find a promising new historical novelist who shares the same gift for wonderfully researched, vividly evoked, good old-fashioned storytelling." --Historical Novel Society Online "Selene of Alexandria is pure fiction magic…I couldn't put this book down... [It] made me laugh and cry, hope and despair." --Story Circle Book Reviews "I am enthralled with the work of this author… [She writes] with beauty, brilliance, and brutal honesty. Run to the bookstore and buy this for yourself." -- BookPleasures.com "The author has weaved a brilliant tale that brings to life this fascinating era, complete with never-to-be-forgotten characters, unrequited love, and the desire of one woman to overcome adversity. Highly recommended." --Women and History "Selene of Alexandria is an entertaining and enlightening novel of the classical era, and a fine read through and through." --The Midwest Book Review "The characters are well-drawn, the plot propels us forward, and the writing carries us easily throughout the story. Even the antagonist comes across as a fully fleshed out person. The level of authenticity is remarkable. No doubt, Faith has done her homework. I recommend Selene of Alexandria." --Historical Novel Review Selene of Alexandria by Faith L. Justice Kindle Edition ISBN: 976-1-4523-3601-5 Selene of Alexandria Copyright © 2009 Faith L. Justice Print version (ISBN: 978-1-6014-5813-1) can be purchased at any online bookstore All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Kindle Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to the Kindle store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. www.faithljustice.com Selene of Alexandria by Faith L. Justice Faith L. Justice Acknowledgements It has been my pleasure and joy to write this story and bring these characters and this time to life. Among the many people who helped and encouraged me, I want to particularly thank the members of my writer's group Circles in the Hair. For twenty years they have been there for me; reading drafts, providing insightful feedback and encouraging my dreams. Special and loving thanks go to my husband Gordon Rothman for supporting me in countless ways, including acting as copy editor; and to my daughter Hannah who grew up sharing me with this book and showing no sibling rivalry whatsoever. I spent seventeen years researching the life and times of Hypatia and her contemporaries. I relied heavily on Hypatia of Alexandria by Maria Dzielska; Alexandria in Late Antiquity by Christopher Haas; The Early Christian Church by J.G. Davies; several works by Peter Brown on late antiquity and John Julius Norwich on early Byzantium. In addition, I consulted dozens of articles and books on medicine, law, women's roles, clothing, food, archaeology and many other specialized topics. Any mistakes in interpreting these works are entirely my own. For a full bibliography, go to my website www.faithljustice.com. Thank you for buying this book. I hope you enjoy your sojourn in the 5th Century. -- Faith L. Justice Chapter 1 Blood pounded in Selene's ears, beating to the rhythm of her bare feet thudding on the hard beach scrabble. Her breath came easy as she crested a low ridge and took a moment to glance back. Through the deep shadows of the early dawn, she saw her older brother Nicaeus and his best friend Antonius struggle out of a shrubby wash at the bottom of the ridge. She threw her head back and shrieked a triumphant ululation. Arms wide, she hurled herself down the slope with wild abandon. Running filled her with joy. The feel of her body working smoothly – legs striding, arms swinging, lungs pumping – put her in supreme awareness of her senses. The sky seemed bluer, the briny tang of the breeze sharper, the cry of the seagull more exquisite. Selene never felt more alive than when she ran. At the stone marking two miles from the city of Alexandria, she skidded to a halt. Selene took a goatskin bag from her belt, unstopped the neck and poured water into her mouth. Her sweat evaporated in the morning sea breeze, leaving a gritty rime of salt under her breast band. Selene pulled her clammy linen tunic away from her body. Several black curls escaped her braid and lay plastered to her forehead and shoulders. She pushed the hair behind her ears and waited for the two boys. Antonius arrived first, staggering down the scree-covered slope to collapse at Selene's feet, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his dusky skin ruddy with exertion. Nicaeus was behind him, blowing like a hippo. Her brother leaned over, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath. Selene laughed and sprinkled them with water. The boys scowled at her. Her brother made a half-hearted swipe for the water bottle but she danced out of the way. "Who's fastest?" Selene teased. Her brother lunged after her. "You won't be if I ever get hold of you. Gazelles can't run with broken legs." "You'll have to catch her first and that doesn't look likely," Antonius said between wheezes. Nicaeus collapsed next to his friend, laughing. "You're right. Whatever will we do with our wild little Selene?" "Not so little any more. I'm nearly as tall as you, brother." Selene's lithe body seemed to have skipped the awkward-colt stage common to 14-year-olds and moved smoothly into graceful young womanhood. She cast a critical eye at her brother and his friend, who at sixteen and seventeen still had an unfinished look; their proportionally larger feet held the promise of more growth – longer limbs and deeper chests. She walked back to the boys and offered her goatskin. Nicaeus poured water over his head. "My sister, the Amazon." He looked at her and grinned. "But even Queen Hippolyta had her Theseus." "And fleet Atalanta had her golden apples." Antonius leered. "Maybe I should bring some the next time we race. Would you marry me, Selene, if I beat you on the course?" Selene snorted. "Why would I want a husband with wits as slow as his feet? Besides, I heard your esteemed father was planning a match for you with Honoria." "Honoria of the horse face and cow hips?" Nicaeus laughed and punched his friend on the arm. Antonius' leer turned sour. "Where did you hear that?" "From Honoria, last week after Sabbath services. She wants hordes of children and thinks you will sire beautiful ones." Selene brushed the dust from her short undertunic and tied the water bottle to her corded belt. Antonius groaned and reached for Selene's ankle. "Save me, O Amazon Queen, I would much rather marry a friend than a brood mare." "Honoria is my friend and a perfectly nice young woman. You could do worse in a wife." "Besides, it will be at least two years before Father finds a likely husband for my wild sister." Nicaeus rose and offered Antonius his hand. "You wouldn't want Selene anyway – too bony. Now Honoria has breasts like cushions – something you can sink your face into." Both Antonius and Selene scowled. "As if you would know anything about it," Antonius muttered. Nicaeus turned a brighter shade of red. Selene tossed her escaping curls over her shoulders and strutted in front of the boys. "I won't need to catch a husband. I plan to convince Father to let me stay unmarried, like Lady Philosopher Hypatia." The boys snorted in unison, then laughed at the unlikely idea that the esteemed City Councilor Calistus would let his only daughter go unmarried. Antonius squinted at the rising sun and grinned at her. "Come, Nicaeus. We need to get your sister home, before your father comes looking for us. It wouldn't do to miss the new Prefect's welcoming procession." Her brother and Antonius linked arms and strode toward the city, which was just becoming visible through the dawn mists. Selene dawdled as the boys picked up the pace. The subject of marriage disturbed her acutely as she approached betrothal age. It hadn't always been so. Her mother had been happily married to her father for over twenty years. She bore him six children, three of whom still lived. As a little girl, Selene assumed she would marry, have children and run a household as her mother did. That changed the day her mother and infant brother died of a fever, two years ago. At the funeral, Selene rejected the comforting words of the priest and vowed to thwart death any way she could. She would become a healer, a physician. As she grew from child to young woman, Selene realized death was inexorable, but the urge to become a physician strengthened. There were many women healers, especially among the nuns, and even a handful of woman physicians. Selene knew the main obstacle to her ambition was her father. No upper class man would willingly allow his daughter to engage in any profession. Calistus would have to be persuaded by someone he respected. "Who's fastest now?" Her brother's taunt broke into her reverie. She sprinted to catch up, a plan forming in her mind. "Nicaeus, I need your help." "Oh ho, the mighty Amazon Queen seeks the help of a lowly male." He bowed, brushing the dusty road with the back of his hand. "How may I be of assistance?" "I want to meet Lady Hypatia. She teaches in the public forum on Mondays. Would you take me there?" "If Father gives permission." "You know he would never do that!" Selene wailed. "No, I don't. He's indulged you in everything else – tutors, gymnasium- training, attendance at council meetings. I know no other girl your age that has had your experience. Why wouldn't Father allow you to go?" "Lady Hypatia is a pagan. He might not want it known that his daughter attends lectures by the infamous female philosopher. Please, Nicaeus, help me." "Poppycock! Lady Hypatia is well regarded by the city fathers and the Church. I won't go behind Father's back. Ask him. If he says yes, I'll accompany you." "But…" "I said no." Selene looked at Antonius. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. He would not get between her and her brother. It was true that her father admired the Lady Philosopher of Alexandria. He had even attended her lectures, as had most of the men in positions of power in the city and the Church. It was also true her father allowed Selene much freedom in private, but she doubted he would approve such a public departure of decorum. Selene needed a plan to get Hypatia on her side. Once she was accepted as a student, her father would surely give his permission to continue her studies. The stench of a long-unwashed body assaulted Selene's nose as they rounded a ragged limestone outcrop. She spied a wizened man perched on a pile of rocks. His matted hair hung in clumps like a sheep's fleece. His stick-like limbs sported grotesquely swollen joints that must have caused him considerable pain. The man's hooded eyes bored into Selene's with an intensity that sent her cringing against her brother. "Repent. Let the Lord Jesus enter your heart, for He died upon the cross to deliver us from evil. Give up worldly pursuits and join the One in Grace for He will soon return and rise up the righteous to heaven. Heathens and nonbelievers will be destroyed by fire and suffer the tortures of the damned. Repent. Let the Lord Jesus enter your heart." The holy hermit waved a knurled stick, barely missing their heads. Antonius knelt before the old man, grabbing Selene's hand and hauling her down beside him. A rock pierced her knee. "Ouch!" she cried. Antonius hissed at her to be silent and dug his elbow into her ribs. He addressed the holy man with bowed head. "Holy Father. Will you give us your blessing?" Nicaeus knelt by her other side. The smelly old man shrieked more prayers, and then put his hands on their heads for a final blessing. Selene shivered. She hoped he didn't have lice. More and more ascetics left the cities to infest the cave-pocked hills and stony deserts. They fervently believed the Second Coming was imminent and prepared to be uplifted to heaven through fasting and hardship. The general populace revered the hermits, feeling the ascetics' holiness reflected on the city. Selene never understood why the Lord Jesus Christ would require anyone to stop bathing in order to be saved. The three rose from the ground, Selene rubbing her knee. They bowed to the hermit and sprinted toward home, scuttling through the western necropolis inhabited by the dead and those living ascetics who took up residence in the tombs. Selene's family had a fine tomb farther to the south, but they were not here to feast with the ghosts of their ancestors as many did on the anniversary of the deceased's death. Selene hurried, ignoring the sense of loss that crawled up from her stomach to choke her throat anytime she neared the tomb. She squinted to the east. The sun glared through a haze, promising a hot July day for the new Prefect's investiture. The city's white limestone walls rose slowly from the lowlying Mediterranean shore. Alexandria sat on the westernmost part of the rich Nile delta, sandwiched between the sea on the north and the immense Lake Mareotis on the south. The Great Alexander had chosen this spot for his Egyptian capital because the breezes saved it from the desert's desiccating heat. Selene welcomed the coolness on her fevered skin. A short distance from the Gate of the Moon, set in the city's west wall, they retrieved a small pack hidden under a rocky shelf. Selene swaddled herself in a long white linen tunic, gray wool cloak and laced leather sandals. She pulled the cloak over her head to hide her dusty hair and give her relief from the sun. She whirled in front of the boys. "Do I look respectable now?" Nicaeus struggled with his traditional cloak bordered with a narrow band of embroidery proclaiming his status as the son of a councilor. He swore fiercely until Selene took a hand. "Let me." She settled the wrap in folds across his left shoulder and right hip, around his back, over his head and down to his right arm where she wrapped the end so it dangled nearly to his knees. She looked him up and down then glanced at Antonius adding finishing touches to his own fine cloak. "You'll do. Maybe you should get Antonius to teach you how." "Why should I, when I always have a servant or you around to do it for me?" Nicaeus' grin disappeared – not at Selene's frown, but at the sound of church bells marking the time. "Come. If we're late, Father will tan our hides. He wants to make a good impression on the new Prefect." Selene sniffed and wrinkled her nose. "We'll make a better impression after we bathe. We have but a short time to go home and make ourselves presentable." The boys followed her lead with no grumbling. They entered the gate with an ever-increasing crowd, past city guards. The common people came from the countryside to join the public feasting and perhaps pick up a coin or two from the Prefect's coffers or the Patriarch's appointed almsman. The three proceeded onto Canopic Street, the vast main thoroughfare bisecting the city from east to west. The magnificent Church of St. Theonas, sometimes called the church of a thousand pillars, anchored this end of the boulevard, while the Church of St. Metras greeted travelers from the east as they entered the Gate of the Sun. Selene's father had been a boy when St. Theonas had served as the Episcopal residence. The former Patriarch Athanasius needed ready refuge in the necropolis and desert monasteries during his ongoing battles with the Emperor's choice for the Patriarchy. Calistus occasionally spoke of those bloody times with a fierce desire never to see them repeated. Those dark days seemed long over on such a festal occasion. Flowers wreathed the church in all its glory. Garlands twined about the columns, bright hangings shaded the doors, and streamers waved gaily in the windows. All the buildings along the processional route would be similarly adorned.