‘I thought this meeting,’ Claudia moved on the stool, ‘was about theology, your Jesus Christ being truly God?’
‘Claudia, Claudia,’ Sylvester patted her on the arm, ‘do you think we Christians are different from anyone else? There are two qualifications for joining our sect: the first is to acknowledge you are a sinner; the second is to realise that only the good Lord can change you. Our founder was, is,’ he corrected himself, ‘God, but our community is a collection of sinners.’ He struck his breast. ‘Myself included. We fight, we betray, we lust, we steal, we kill.’
‘Does Helena know this?’
‘Of course she does. However, Helena views the Christian Church as a means to invigorate the Empire and bind it closer together. Above all, she realises that the vast army of the poor regard our Church, with its promise of resurrection to Eternal Life, as their only comfort in this vale of tears. The Christian community,’ Sylvester continued, ‘has always been riven by dissent. Our Church is almost three hundred years old, but right from the start we have had betrayal and treachery. One of Christ’s own followers, Judas, betrayed him to crucifixion. Peter, who later came to Rome, denied ever knowing him.’
Claudia listened carefully. She had never confessed this to anyone, but although she didn’t accept the Christian religion, she was still fascinated by its teaching and, above all, its effect on the vast population of the poor of Rome.
‘Our Church,’ Sylvester held up his hands as if holding a bowl, ‘has come out of the catacombs; it no longer hides underground. The shadows are gone, but now is also the time to settle grievances, to fight for power, to claim a place in the sun. Ten years ago, the old Emperor, Diocletian, launched the most savage persecution of the Christian Church. Our followers were roped in from as far away as Britain and the borders of Persia. You must have heard about the hideous spectacles in the Flavian amphitheatre. Men, women and children torn to pieces by wild animals or subjected to the most humiliating death.’
‘I was a child,’ Claudia whispered. ‘I remember my father hiding Christian symbols. One morning, I think it was around the feast of Lupercalia, soldiers came to search our house.’
‘Your parents were most fortunate,’ Sylvester replied. ‘Others were not. When a Christian was arrested, he was given the opportunity to purge himself, to sprinkle incense before a statue of the Emperor or the Standards of Rome. Naturally, many people succumbed; faced with the terror of death, they took the easy way out.’
‘And what happened to those?’
‘They were given a new name, a term of derision, the “Lapsi”, the Fallen Ones. According to some members of our Church, these Lapsi should never be forgiven. Others, myself included, believe this is too harsh. The Lapsi should do penance, yes, but eventually be forgiven and re-admitted to the community.’
‘How does this affect our philosophers?’
Sylvester grinned sourly.
‘If you think the Lapsi are bad, they are not the worst. There is another group of sinners, nicknamed the Iscariots, after the man who betrayed Christ, Judas Iscariot. These are men and women who not only renounced their religion but offered, either for reward or to escape punishment, to lead the authorities to other Christian communities. Your father’s house was searched, Claudia, probably because of an informant.’ Sylvester drew a deep breath. ‘Now, during Diocletian’s persecution, the school of Capua was already marked down as a Christian community. Many of its teachers and scholars were known to be followers of Christ.’ He shrugged. ‘At least in theory. About six years ago, however, the authorities were given very precise information about where to search, who to look for, all the evidence they would need. At least forty people were arrested, thirty of whom were dispatched to Rome for execution.’
Claudia whistled under her breath.
‘Now according to Athanasius, such traitors are amongst the Arian group. This morning he is going to divert the Empress’s attention to this issue.’
‘But why?’ Claudia asked. ‘Constantine doesn’t care what happened six years ago. He is not a Christian and really couldn’t give a damn about a mealy-mouthed traitor in your community!’
‘Ah, yes,’ Sylvester sighed, ‘but Athanasius will argue that such traitors betrayed their own kind; they sent innocent men, women and children to their deaths. He might well argue that such people still lurk in the Christian community. .’
‘I see.’ Claudia nodded. ‘And people who betray once will betray again?’
‘Precisely,’ Sylvester agreed. ‘Athanasius will hint that if such men and women are prepared to betray the Bishop of Rome, why not the Emperor of Rome?’
‘But Athanasius is one of yours. Why not just tell him to keep his mouth shut?’
‘We’ve already tried,’ Sylvester retorted. ‘You’ve met Athanasius, fiery-tempered and hot-eyed, but he’s only half the problem. He claims that Justin, the leader of the Arian party, will level the same accusations of betrayal at the orthodox party. What I want you to do, Claudia, is have a word with the Empress. I do not want to show my hand in public.’
‘But you’ve told me this for another reason, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, I have,’ Sylvester conceded. ‘Now you see, Claudia, how truly we Christians love each other! So much so,’ he added wryly, ‘that we are prepared to kill and maim. I only learned this morning about what is going to happen. I’ve heard rumours and it has to be stopped.’
‘And that other reason?’ Claudia asked.
Sylvester patted her on the shoulder and rose to his feet. ‘Dionysius’s murder may be connected to these allegations. I don’t know, but I have a feeling here,’ he tapped his hand on his chest, ‘that Dionysius may not be the last to die at the Villa Pulchra.’
When Sylvester had left, Claudia sat on the stool, staring down at her sandalled feet. Outside in the passageway she could hear talk and laughter as the court assembled in the peristyle garden. She got to her feet and left the chamber, forcing her way through the throng until she was out in the full blaze of sunlight. She sighed with relief; the Empress Helena now sat enthroned next to her son, but from the confusion amongst the scribes, Claudia gathered the debate had yet to begin. Pushing and shoving, excusing herself volubly, she made her way through the crowd. She reached the line of soldiers which protected any access to the imperial presence. A soldier brought up his shield. Claudia caught sight of Gaius and shouted his name. The officer came hurrying across, pulling forward the folds of his toga to shroud his head against the sun.
‘Why, Claudia,’ Gaius smiled down at her, ‘the Empress was wondering where you were.’
‘I need to speak to her urgently.’
Gaius beckoned her through and, grasping her by the shoulder, steered her between the imperial thrones. Claudia crouched down to the Empress’s right.
‘Why, little mouse.’ Helena didn’t even move her head in acknowledgement. ‘I saw you coming. Have you been talking to Sylvester?’ She turned and winked at Claudia. ‘What did you think of my performance this morning? I just hope none of those lovely boys stole that holy relic, but that will have to wait. What do you want?’
Claudia told the Empress in short, sharp sentences how Sylvester had warned that the debate might be used by both parties to level the most serious allegations against each other. Helena heard her out, now and again nodding in agreement, then dismissed her with a flick of her fingers and turned to talk to her son.
From behind the imperial thrones, Claudia watched how Chrysis imposed order as the orators took their stools either side of the peristyle pool. The chamberlain’s introduction was short and slightly sardonic as he bowed mockingly to both sides. He was well aware of his audience. The Christians might be supported by the Emperor, but there were many in court who regarded the new sect with either amusement at best, or, in some cases, downright hostility. Chrysis was about to withdraw when the Emperor raised his hand and proclaimed in ringing tones that the meeting was to be about matters of theology and nothing else. He warned sharply that if any orator wandered from the agenda set before them, that speaker would face his most severe displeasure. The imperial proclamation caused consternation on both sides, a great deal of leaning and whispering.