Death of the Son, Episode Seven: Apollon's Tale
[Episode One; Episode Two; Episode Three; Episode Four; Episode Five; Episode Six]
When they reached Hosius' chambers again, after a long, silent tramp through the streets and corridors (Theodotus having to run to keep up with Hosius' heedless strides), the rooms were empty.
Theodotus glanced at Hosius in surprise, but the old man was still silent; after a few minutes, he crossed the sitting room into his private cell, and the door shut with a click.
Theodotus shook his head in frustrated resignation. I demanded that we meet with Constantine; and he agreed. But he will need time to adjust to what we just discovered.
Theodotus, though, needed no such time, at least in his own mind. He began pacing the floors of the chamber, around the chairs and tables piled with scrolls and codices, around and around and around.
So we are all doomed. Very soon now, Helena will leave Rome; and Constantine will learn what we have done. And if we do not reach him first...who knows what he will do? Perhaps he will send his soldiers here, and arrest us. Hosius and Eustathius will be disgraced; and I will be punished as a scapegoat for them all. And all I will have to comfort myself with is that I fulfilled my bishop's commands, that I upheld my penance, that I solved the puzzle.
But how can I solve the puzzle? Helena instigated Fausta's death; about that there can be no doubt. But who else was involved? Who were these conspirators Constantine made use of, who were so afraid of her being publicly tried, who were so afraid of a secret she might tell?
The slave Flavius told me that a one-eyed man had led Fausta to her death; a martyr? A terrible thought...and then the slave-woman told me that a priest had accosted her, heard her story, and forgiven her sins, swearing her to silence; the same man, or another? And if he was not the same man, how would he have known what had taken place? Or even known to interrogate the slaves?
Somewhere in this palace, there is another clergyman, or many perhaps, who knows as much as me, or more. But why? Is he responsible for what has happened, covering his tracks, or only curious? Is he an ally, or an enemy?
And still we are no closer to learning why Crispus himself was put to death. Helena blamed Fausta for instigating Crispus' death, to advance her own childrens' claim to the throne. But what evidence did she have? None at all. Hosius and Eustathius are engaged in theological controversy, with Eusebius and many others...they claim Crispus for an ally, but was he? They blame their theological opponents for his death, but what evidence do they have? None at all.
It is all mirage, a phantom. This is not an investigation; it is a ghost story, a myth, a hall lined with mirrors. And why should it be an investigation at all? What mystery is it that Emperors kill? That men of violence commit violence? We clergy, so recently escaped from the Persecution, should know that better than anyone. And yet we wish to delude ourselves into believing Constantine is different; just as we delude ourselves into believing that behind petty human wickedness, cruelty, violence, there is some higher purpose at work, for good or evil. The Persecution was not a plan of God, or the Devil; it was merely policy. There is no mystery in Constantine killing his son. Crispus was a war hero, a great general, a gifted administrator; a natural successor; a natural threat. Why shouldn't Constantine kill him?
And what am I doing here, now, in this palace, dressed in deacon's robes, investigating the death of Emperors at the command of a Christian bishop? I was only a poor man. The Tetrarchs made me a soldier, made me kill, for their own purposes. The old man drove me into the clergy for his own purposes. Vitalis made me work in the Episcopal Court for his own purposes. And then Eustathius, forced me to come here. He, too, is playing politics, stirring up controversy and conflict for his own reasons. He is an ideologue, a fanatic; such men are not to be trusted. He told me nothing. And I am less than a pawn.
He stopped walking abruptly, breathing heavily; and as if at a signal, the door opened, and Apollon tumbled into the room.
