Valeria's Cross. Kathi MaciasЧитать онлайн книгу.
was an adulterer?”
Eugenia’s eyes opened wide. “How do you know the meaning of the word?”
“Stop treating me like a child. I am fourteen years old!” Valeria flung her head to one side, and her copper-colored hair cascaded like a waterfall down one shoulder.
Eugenia rolled her eyes and continued. “Callisto was not always a bear. An insanely jealous Juno turned her into one.”
“Can you blame Juno? If Jupiter were your husband, would you not do the same?”
“Me?” Eugenia grinned. “I would have turned Jupiter into a bear myself.”
Valeria laughed. “What happened next?”
“Juno tricked Callisto’s son into killing the bear—his own mother.”
“I suppose that is one way to get rid of the other woman, but the poor boy must have been devastated.”
“Yes, but Jupiter took pity on his grieving son. He placed the boy and his mother in the sky so they could live together forever.” Eugenia paused and concluded Valeria’s lesson. “From the North Star we can always know the direction we are facing. It will help us find our way. The North Star never sinks below the horizon, so you can always locate it.”
Leaning closer, Valeria whispered, “You do not believe a word of the lesson, do you?”
Eugenia lowered her lashes. “My Father in heaven created the moon, the stars, and the sky—not Jupiter.”
“My father believes he is Jupiter.” Valeria laughed nervously. “At least, the embodiment of the god upon earth. Do you believe he is?”
“I would rather not discuss it,” Eugenia said, standing to her feet. “It is late.”
“Now I understand why you preferred not to teach an astronomy lesson.” Valeria grinned. “In honor of your god.”
Eugenia appeared distressed. “I have failed my God. My Christian friends will die before they deny him, but I . . . I do not even have the strength to refuse to fill a young girl’s head with the lies of pagan gods.”
“But how can you be so sure they are lies?”
“With your mother’s permission, one day I shall tell you.” Eugenia dried her tears with her handkerchief and reached for Valeria’s hand. “For now,” she said, as she kissed the girl’s fingertips, “it is bedtime.”
Once their traveling expedition reached the river, their luxurious cruising boat was dry-docked, and they stepped aboard the feluccas, the sailing vessels of the Nile.
As the hours slipped by, mother and daughter stood in awe, craning their necks to see the pyramids, the temples, and the palaces on the riverbanks. They marveled at the ancient mastery of engineering and perfection in design against a backdrop of sand dune cliffs and the lush green banks that gave way to russet mountains, set afire by glowing sunsets.
The women were fascinated by the wildlife, especially the vast herds of camels bunched at the shore. They were fearful of hungry crocodiles and enormous hippopotami that swam close to the boat and had to be coaxed away by the sailors. Valeria screamed every time she spotted a menacing snake the length of a small boat slither off the riverbanks and into the water.
On the final day of their journey, Valeria sensed a change in her heart. “Something is coming,” she told her mother.
Prisca raised an eyebrow. “Not another herd of hippos, I hope.”
Valeria laughed. “I am not sure what it is, but I feel a great sense of adventure awaiting us at Father’s palace on Elephantine.”
“I must write to your father with this news. It will truly make him smile.”
Before they could continue their conversation, the boat reached the city of Aswan, and the women gasped as one of the sailors pointed to the Island of Elephantine in the distance. They beheld the magnificence of Diocletian’s fortress rising up like a jewel out of the banks of the island. Fringed by palm trees, the palace glittered in the sunlight like a priceless diamond.
3
Valeria was besotted with Egypt. She adored the beautiful gardens, which overflowed with fragrant flowers, and vegetables and fruits beyond the size and flavor of any she had ever tasted. What she cherished most were the early morning strolls she and her mother took through the gardens and on the golden beaches. She delighted in plucking seashells from the sand and dipping her toes into the water. The warm sunshine had soon colored her pale skin with a peachy glow.
Getting settled into the palace had taken far more time than the women had anticipated. There were Roman dignitaries to entertain, and prominent Egyptians hosted parties given in the women’s honor. Four weeks passed before Prisca was able to arrange to meet the Coptic monks recommended by the ship’s captain.
When the day arrived, Valeria pouted. “Why should I have to go study with the monks? I can hardly keep up with my lessons now.”
“I have arranged for us to go late mornings so you can study with your tutor earlier and then spend the rest of your school time with the monks.”
Valeria shrugged. “As long as it is part of my studies. But I have heard the monks are old and crabby.” She pinched the end of her nose. “My friend Aneksi told me they smell as musty as the catacombs.”
“You can take your handkerchief filled with cinnamon.”
“You have an answer for everything.”
“Where you are concerned, that is true.” Prisca clapped her hands, and the servants appeared. “We are ready to depart.”
First the women and their entourage of ladies-in-waiting, servants, and soldiers boarded several feluccas and crossed a narrow section over to Aswan, where the monastery and the church were located. Once they reached the city, the women boarded ornate chariots with drivers, while the remaining soldiers mounted horses.
To her surprise, Valeria soon found she was enjoying herself. She chuckled at the spirited Egyptian horses that flew ahead of the carriages, their riders desperately trying to control the frisky beasts. As their entourage passed through the cobblestone streets in their golden chariots, it attracted a lot of attention. The citizens along the way cheered. Women and children ran for bouquets of flowers and tossed them in their path; others simply stopped what they were doing and stared. Soldiers on horses pushed a few protesters from their path.
“Long live Emperor Diocletian and his Empress Prisca,” a chorus of voices rang out as the chariots rolled past.
“I find Father’s popularity here surprising,” Valeria noted.
“Rome offers Egypt protection from the barbarians from the north and the savages south of here,” Prisca explained.
“Look,” Valeria said, quickly distracted as she pointed out one of the beautiful homes in the area. “Even the simplest of structures are constructed of limestone or granite.”
“These elegant houses are far more appealing than the flat-roofed homes built of mud and sun-dried bricks that we observed along the Nile,” Prisca added.
An Egyptian guide who walked alongside the carriage interjected, “Every obelisk and statue throughout the empire is carved from red granite or yellow limestone taken from local quarries. Even the pieces in the mosaics of Rome and beyond originate from our quarries.”
Once the royal party arrived at the monastery, the carriage came to a halt in front of the gate. The oblong-domed church, an imposing structure, was divided by a natural wall from the monastery. Lookouts towered strategically at the four corners of the buildings. The lead soldier dismounted and knocked at the massive arched gate and announced their arrival. Valeria thought if the church and monastery were only half