Wrath of Rome (Book Two of the Dominium Dei Trilogy) Read Free Page B

a fist at the gods. He had to mock us with this travesty, and in so doing merely tell us he is still alive and that our retribution was not too harsh but too light. You and I, Helena, will have to remedy that. I will see you in my bedchamber shortly.”
    With that Caesar turned his back on her and Domitia and stalked out to meet with his generals. Helena looked at the empress, whose expression of horror only further worried her as to what more divine misfortune could possibly befall her and Athanasius.

III
    M uch like Athanasius himself, his hometown of Corinth straddled two different worlds. The Greek city was built on the Isthmus of Corinth, that narrow stretch of land that joins the Peloponnesus to the mainland of Greece, about halfway between Athens and Sparta. The well-to-do city had two main ports, one on the Corinthian Gulf, which served the trade routes of the western empire, and one on the Saronic Gulf, serving the trade routes of the eastern empire. As such it was at the crossroads of trade, culture and religion.
    The Pegasus had docked in the port city of Lechaion in the Corinthian Gulf. By nightfall it would be departing from the port city of Kenchreai on the Saronic Gulf on the other side of the isthmus. In between was the Diolkos, the overland stone ramp that connected the two ports after centuries of costly attempts to dig out a canal had failed. The Pegasus would be rolled across the isthmus on logs, as the ancient Egyptians had rolled blocks of granite to make their pyramids. The journey was a good 43
stadia
and would take ten hours.
    That’s how long Athanasius had to warn his family and escape before anybody knew the tribune interrogator was missing when he failed to show up in Kenchreai.
    As he walked down the gangway and around the harbor crates and cranes, Athanasius knew he was defying Marcus’s instructions by visiting his family estate outside the city, just as he did when he went to Maximus. But a growing fear for the safety of his family had been gnawing him for days. He had to warn them, help them escape. There were thousands of islands in Greece, far away from the big ocean traffic, where he could lose himself, just like his forefather, the original Vasiliki, who had killed some ancient general who had taken his sister as a sex slave and then hid out in the Minoan city of Vasiliki in Crete. When he returned to public life, friends and strangers called him by his new name. He could do that, maybe someday get Helena to join him, after Domitian was finally dead.
    He thought of his mother and two older sisters and two younger brothers and their families. More than two dozen nieces and nephews in all. How in the world could he protect them all or get them all out of Corinth? It seemed impossible. Whatever the case, he resolved to be steadfast and firm and demand the family flee. His plan was clear: to send them back to the islands from whence they came.
    Even from the harbor he could see Corinth’s acropolis in the distance, where the great Temple of Aphrodite once stood before an earthquake leveled it. Now there were several smaller temples dedicated to the goddess in the city, each with statues boasting the face of Helena. The first one greeted him and all visitors to the harbor as he walked toward the taxi station. The sight aroused both pride and anguish. He had hoped to return in triumph with Helena and the success of
Opus Gloria.
    Athanasius hailed a
cisium
at the station, put his sack of belongings in the compartment under the seat and told the taxi driver to take him to town, where he would switch to another cab. The
cisiarri
yanked the reins on his two mules, and the open carriage with two wheels started down the limestone Lechaion Way south toward the town.
    They drove along the colonnade of Corinthian columns and pulled up to the Roman arch near the Perine Fountain. He got out, paid the driver and walked through the
agora
of public buildings and shops, passing the tribunal bema from which