To Kill the Christ! - Chapter Twenty-eight: Messalina

The trip to Brundisium and across the Adriatic to Greece was without event. Aurilius' letter with its embossed wax seal opened doors and burnished welcome signs. There was even assurance of passage to Corinth by a naval vessel that sailed with the tide. Most of the men and horses would follow on a freighter scheduled to leave when its cargo was loaded, probably the next day, weather permitting. Pember stayed behind to take charge while Carl, Alexander, and three commandos went in the navy bireme. Passage was much faster than with the freighter, Carl had maybe three days in Greece before his men arrived.

They pulled into the northern bay at the Isthmus of Corinth late in the afternoon. The nearly seven-mile haul across the low, stony isthmus enabled ships to load and offload in both harbors without sailing around the peninsula, a long, dangerous, time-consuming voyage. Small vessels were pulled over the isthmus on wheeled platforms and quickly re-floated on the other side. Tolls and fees kept the Roman colony flush with income, trade kept the merchants flush with cash, and the naval base at nearby Piraeus on the Aegean kept pirates at bay, out of the Aegean, more inclined to ply their trade elsewhere in the Mediterranean.

Carl watched them pull a small boat across the isthmus. He smiled to himself. I wish Raphael were here to sell ball bearings to use on those carts. I'll have to see if Alexander can understand their use.

With grateful thanks to the ship's captain, the party disembarked and immediately began a search for Messalina. Corinth was a large city, and the waterfront towns were large, too.

Alexander knew the city and the nearby ports well, but he didn't know how they would locate Messalina. He voiced his concern to Carl. "How can we find her in such a large city? Did she give the street where she lives?"

"No," he replied, but he pulled three lanterns from well padded amphora. The glass in two had broken. "We market these in Attica through Priantro. He has exclusive rights. It's been a popular export item because the Greeks haven't been able to make glass and movable wick."

"I've seen a couple of those in Rome," Alexander exclaimed. "I didn't know they were yours."

"Yup. They should help us locate Priantro's trading house."

  The lanterns were much like Coleman lanterns of the twentieth century, far superior to anything made in Rome or Greece.

They rode to the city, then stabled their horses while they began the long search for Messalina. Carl couldn't help noticing the number of monuments and temples to gods of Egypt, Rome, Syria, and ancient Greece. They were scattered throughout the city and called attention to the wealth of its largest merchants. Their names were properly noted on engraved memorials. Alexander helpfully interpreted the Greek.

He pointed to the temple of Aphrodite on the Acrocorinth, a high hill not far from the city. "That's still a place of worship, but the temple virgins no longer practice prostitution under the Romans. The city has enough prostitutes without them."

It was not easy finding Messalina, even with the lanterns as visual aids, but Alexander's koine or street Greek enabled them to communicate in the polyglot environment of Corinth and its nearby cities.

 He finally found traders in Corinth who recognized the design, two of them proudly showed their own lanterns, and both pointed them to one Arelius Priantro who lived in Athens but had a trading office in Corinth. Against all hope, Carl found Messalina in the Corinthian office. Her stepfather had assigned her to straighten out the management of the office, even though she would not be in Corinth for very long. He was well aware of her skill in such matters.

"Messalina!"

She had her back turned to the doorway, but immediately recognized Carl's voice.

Spinning on her heels, she raced to greet him, burying her head in his chest, her arms fiercely entwining him. She soon looked up, tears welling in her eyes, her body imploring him to take her back to Britannia. Carl was bewildered.

It took but a few minutes to explain why he was in Corinth. "This is Alexander, a friend who helped me find you."

Alexander was immediately smitten by her beauty and gracious demeanor even as she quickly dabbed the tears from her eyes.

"What, exactly, is Raphael intending to do in Syria?" Carl asked.

She hesitated for what she said might get her Raphael killed. "He said he was going to Maaloula, but he will go to Judea to see if Jesus is who the Christians claim he is. He was agitated about something because he said, 'I may not return,' which is why he left me in Greece.

"He wrote a contract according to Roman law, signed and witnessed, making me owner of his trading company, and he assured me that you would still need my services, even if I remained in Greece."

She added, fiercely, "But I don't want to stay here. I can work through Toth and Agitures in Camulodunum, if necessary." The last was said with a touch of pride.

"Messalina," Carl said, "I must follow Raphael. If I find him in time, I'll return him to you. If not, I'll return and take you back to Britannia, if you and the boys want to go." He cautiously looked around. "Do you have protection? Did Raphael leave you his pistol?" It was a circumspect way of learning what he would have to deal with should he catch up with Raphael.

Messalina missed the subterfuge. "I'm quite safe. Malvalo's my bodyguard. He actually runs the business. Raphael needed the pistol for protection. He took the overland trail from Ephesus because he missed the sailing season. He's traveling with two guards."

"What do they look like? How are they dressed?" He knew that Raphael's crippled hand would be a marker wherever he went, but dress would help pinpoint him.

"They are Greek and wear the clothes of that man over there." She pointed to a customer in a nearby stall. "They have three horses, but Raphael is sore from riding already. He isn't used to so much riding."

He's not the only one, Carl thought. "When did he leave?"

"Two days ago."

Maybe we can catch him, Carl thought. We've made up a lot of time.

Alexander overheard the conversation and was perplexed. What's a pistol? It's used to protect a person from brigands, that's obvious, but how? I'll have to ask Carl.

Messalina lowered her voice and led Carl and Alexander to a table, calling for tea as she did so. Trading connections with Arabs who traded with China and India had resulted in small amounts of tea making its way to the Mediterranean.

The aroma was refreshing, as was the taste.

Carl couldn't resist. "Have several boxes of tea ready when we return, and make arrangements to ship others. That's worthy of trading for . . ."

Messalina ignored him. "I'll have the boys ready when you return with Raphael," she said, soto voce. "My first husband's father must not know of this until we leave."

She glanced at Malvalo, who was bent over a group of lanterns in one corner of the shop. Craftsmen throughout Greece were trying to duplicate the glass chimney, without much success. They would learn, but it would take time. Meanwhile, Priantro grew rich off the Long Reach invention.

"Malvalo must not know of this until you return, then, perhaps, I can persuade Priantro to allow me to return to Britannia. He realizes that riches are not enough, and the boys, even though they aren't of his blood, have won his love. He treats both of them as his grandchildren. I don't believe he will allow them to return to Britannia. Me, maybe. Them, no, even if Raphael returns safely."

It was the first hint that she recognized that Raphael's trip was more dangerous than even he had hinted.

"We'll try to get a message to you telling when we might reach Corinth," Carl said. "You can make some excuse to have the boys with you when we arrive."

Her hand brushed his arm. "Go with God."

Carl was surprised at the expression. Rebecca's sessions with Messalina, discussing the New Testament, were having an effect.

He and Alexander quickly returned to the men. The remaining commandos would arrive in another day, perhaps two at the latest. He had to make arrangements for fast passage to Ephesus before they arrived. He was already getting antsy. They had a chance to catch Raphael.

Their future path would depend upon the weather and God's direction.

                                ____________________

            Raphael looked back, across the Aegean. It had been a journey of mishaps. The ship to Ephesus had pulled into an island for repairs to a rudder. He had been delayed in Ostia because the horses had saddles without stirrups. It had taken a good day to make them for his and Messalina's horses. The boys rode behind their saddles.

I shouldn't have stayed so long in Corinth, he thought, but I needed the rest. I'm not used to this constant movement, and my butt's still tender. I hope Carl is meeting with delays, too. It's no fun constantly looking over my shoulder for him. He looked at his two husky bodyguards. They were ok for the highway where bandits might attack, but they would be no match for Carl, and if he has his commandos with him, well, Allah, whose name be praised, only You can stop him from catching me. He laughed to himself. What I would give for an airplane!

The captain signaled to his passengers sitting on the beach. The rudder was ready. They could continue the journey.

Good, Raphael thought. I've only lost one day. I hope the weather holds!