Part 21 (1/2)
”G.o.ddess,” I whispered, ”for the sake of your son Horus, the mighty warrior who is the Hawk of the Sun, watch over my child and bring him safely home.” I waited for a moment, contemplating the play of lamplight on the marble features, and then cast a second handful on the coals. ”And watch over the Emperor also, as you watched over Pharaoh.”
Any citizen might make offerings on behalf of the Emperor, but I no longer had the right to pray for him as my husband, and even if I had, the fidelity of Isis is remembered because Osiris died. I went home, but found myself still uneasy. Still, the reports continued to be positive.I am becoming an old woman , I told myself.There is no reason to worry so...
At the end of June, I received a letter from Constantine.
”My father collapsed on the way back from Alba. He is up again now and we have reached Eburac.u.m, but he seems often to be in pain. The physicians will say little, and I am afraid for him. Please come. He is asking for you...”
Constantine had sent an order for post-horses. Travelling by carriage and changing horses at each government mansio, it took a little over week for me to travel north to Eburac.u.m. A fifty-five-year-old body was not meant for this kind of travel. By the time I reached the fortress, I was bruised and exhausted by the constant sway and jolt of the carriage, but though the word of the Emperor's illness had spread through the countryside and I saw many worried faces, at each stop I was told that Constantius still lived, and so hope sustained me through my journey.
I was realizing now that the sorrow of our separation had been eased a little by the knowledge that Constantius still walked the world. And yet, as I travelled, I could not keep from remembering the image of Isis sorrowing for her husband. Even the G.o.ds lost those they loved, so why should I think myself immune?
Word of my coming had run ahead of me. Constantine came out of the presidium as we rumbled through the gate, and when the carriage halted, lifted me out. For a few moments I clung to him, drawing strength.
”How is he?” I asked, when I could stand alone.
”Each day he insists on getting dressed and attempting to do a little work. But he tires very easily. I told him that you were coming, and each hour, it seems, he has asked where I think you are now.” He managed a smile. ”But we persuaded him to lie down a little while ago and he is sleeping.”
He escorted me into the building and showed me the chamber they had set aside for me and the slave girl who would attend me. When I had washed and changed my gown I found Constantine waiting in the adjoining room where a table with wine and honey-cakes was laid.
”And how are you?” I asked, noting the dark smudges beneath his eyes. Physically, I might be the more exhausted, but he was suffering too.
”It is strange. When I go into battle I feel no fear. But this is an enemy I cannot confront, and I am afraid.”
It is true, I thought sadly,even the strength of a young man who does not believe he can die is helpless against some enemies .
”I remember,” he said slowly, not meeting my eyes, ”from when I was a child... you can do strange things sometimes. You must help him, mother, or we are lost.”
”Did you call me here as your mother, or as a priestess?”
He looked up, and for a moment I thought he was going to crouch against me with his head upon my breast as he had when he was a little child.
”I need my mother, but my father needs the priestess.”
”Then it is as a priestess that I answer you. I will do what I can, Con, but you must understand that there is a natural rhythm to our lives that not even the G.o.ds can deny.”
”Then they are evil G.o.ds!” muttered Constantine.
”My heart cries out against this as loudly as yours, but it may be that all I will be able to do is to help him let go.”
The chair sc.r.a.ped loudly as he stood up and gripped my hand. ”Come-” He pulled me to my feet, and scarcely waiting for me to wrap my palla around me, drew me from the room.
”He stirred a moment ago,” said the physician on watch as we appeared in the doorway. ”I think he will wake soon.”
The Emperor lay on his bed, his upper body raised on pillows. I paused, making an effort to pull myself together. Constantine was right. The wife and mother would dissolve in tears, seeing her beloved lie so still. It was the priestess that was needed now.
I came to the bedside and stretched out my hands above Constantius's body, extending my awareness to sense the energy flow. Above the head and brow the life-force still flowed strongly, but the aura above his chest flickered weakly, and lower down, though it was steady, it was not strong. I bent close to listen to his breathing, and could hear the rasp of congestion inside.
”Does he have fever?” I did not think so, for his skin was not flushed, but abnormally pale; however, I had hoped it might be, for the lung-fever, though serious, was something I knew how to fight. The physician shook his head, and I sighed. ”The heart, then?”
”I have made up an infusion of foxglove, for when it pains him,” said the physician.
”That is well, but perhaps there is something we can do to strengthen him. Do you have a trustworthy man you can send for the following herbs?” As he nodded, I began to dictate my list: motherwort and hawthorn, nettle and garlic, and Constantine's grim look eased.
Then the man on the bed stirred and sighed, and I knelt beside him, chafing his cool hands between my own.
Eyes still closed, Constantius smiled.” Ah, the G.o.ddess returns...'
”The G.o.ddess was always with you, but now I am here as well.” With an effort I kept my voice firm.
”What have you been doing to yourself, to get in such a state? Is it not the place of the Augustus to sit in his palace and leave the fighting to younger men?”
”I have not even opened my eyes, and she is scolding me!” he said, but in truth I think he was not yet certain I was real.
”Perhaps this will take the sting away,” I leaned over to kiss his lips, and as I released him, he looked up at me.
”I have missed you,” he said simply, and read my answer in my eyes.
Throughout the week that followed, I dosed Constantius with my potions, but though Constantine talked loudly of his improvement, I began to suspect that he had used up the strength that remained to him in holding on until I arrived. Constantine and I took it in turns to sit with him, holding his hand as he rested, or speaking of the years we had spent apart.
One day, as I bathed him, I noticed a livid scar up the side of one thigh and asked when he had risked himself so foolishly.
”Ah, that was in Gallia, three summers ago, and I a.s.sure you I did not intend to run into such danger!”
Three years, I thought, and the scar was still red and angry. It had not healed quickly or well, a sign that his circulation was failing even then. I could have given him medicines to strengthen his heart, if I had known. But perhaps it would not have mattered. It was not Theodora who was my rival. Constantius had given his heart to the Empire before he ever offered it to me.
July was drawing on, and even in Eburac.u.m the days were warm. We opened the windows to let in fresh air and covered the sick man with a light woollen cloth, and the chirring of the crickets blended with the rasp of his breathing.
One afternoon when I was alone with him in the room Constantius woke from a brief sleep and called my name.
”I am here, my dearest,” I took his hand.
”Helena... I feel that this is one battle I am not going to win. The sun s.h.i.+nes brightly, but he is declining, and so am I. I have done most of what I set out to do in this world, but I fear for the Empire, at the mercy of Galerius and his puppet Caesars.”
”No doubt Augustus thought the same, but Rome still stands,” I told him. ”Her safety, in the end, depends on the G.o.ds, not you.”
”I suppose you are right-when an Emperor receives divine honours, it becomes hard to tell the difference, sometimes. But the G.o.ds do not die. Tell me, my Lady, can this body heal?”
For a moment I stared at him, blinking back tears. His gaze was clear and direct, and there had always been truth between us. I could not deny it to him now.
”It has been long since I studied the arts of healing,” I said finally. ”But each day you spend more time in sleep. The life-force in your body sinks lower. If it continues to do so, I think you may stay with us a week, but no more.”
Astonis.h.i.+ngly, his face brightened. ”That is more than I have been able to make my physicians say. A good general needs as much accurate information to plan an orderly retreat as he does when he seeks victory.”
I would not have thought of it that way, and despite my tears I returned his smile.
”Constantine asked you to heal me, but now I ask you a harder thing, my beloved priestess. I have spent too much of my life in trying to stay alive on battlefields, and it is hard to let go. Now you must teach me how to die.”