As they rode through Myra, Nicholas could see signs of the long war on the Christiani. The entire city seemed half-abandoned. Only a small section of the forum showed activity. Trash lay in piles along the wayside as if no one had the time to keep up with it. In many spots, the stone pavement of the forum was stained with the dull red of human blood. Nicholas asked, “How many died?”
The young man driving the wagon said, “Hundreds... So many, they had to pile the bodies by the roadside and bury them all together at the end of the day, or when they could get to them.” He glanced nervously over his shoulder at something behind them.
Nicholas asked Gordian, “Then my uncle, the overseer...”
Gordian nodded. “One of the first to go.”
Nicholas asked, “And my cousins?”
“I cannot say. I myself have only returned days ago from working as a slave in the mines. You will see my house is not what it used to be.”
The young man reported in a hushed voice, “The fist of the emperor may have relented, but his eyes are still about,” He motioned back with his head.
Gordian gave a glance back and nodded. Nicholas glanced too. A soldier on a horse trailed some distance behind them.
When they came to the house, Nicholas recognized it as the place where he had rescued the three maidens with his gold. The structure remained intact, but whoever had occupied it in recent years left it in great disrepair. The walls were dull and peeling plaster, the mosaic floors cracked as if someone had carelessly beaten them or dropped things on them. The roof was missing tiles at points.
What it lacked in beauty, it made up for in people. Men, women and children were settling into whatever corner they could find. Some were sweeping the atrium, others scrubbing the walls and floors. All greeted Nicholas and Gordian with smiles. Gordian explained, “They are all brothers and sisters. Freed from the mines or from prison, or left without a place to stay.”
Nicholas said, “What can I do to help?”
“There will be time for that later,” said Gordian. “But first you need some food and rest.” He brought Nicholas to the kitchen where some hot soup simmered.
Nicholas gave it a sniff. “Lentils?”
“Yes, they’re a bit plain. I hope you don’t mind. ”
“Not at all. I would like them very much.”
As he savored the lentils, he could not help but think of old Stephanas. He wondered if his hermit life might have kept him out of the great war on the Christiani. He might very well still be weaving baskets and kneeling towards Bethlehem. He grinned to himself and thought, His loss.
The young man driving the wagon said, “Hundreds... So many, they had to pile the bodies by the roadside and bury them all together at the end of the day, or when they could get to them.” He glanced nervously over his shoulder at something behind them.
Nicholas asked Gordian, “Then my uncle, the overseer...”
Gordian nodded. “One of the first to go.”
Nicholas asked, “And my cousins?”
“I cannot say. I myself have only returned days ago from working as a slave in the mines. You will see my house is not what it used to be.”
The young man reported in a hushed voice, “The fist of the emperor may have relented, but his eyes are still about,” He motioned back with his head.
Gordian gave a glance back and nodded. Nicholas glanced too. A soldier on a horse trailed some distance behind them.
When they came to the house, Nicholas recognized it as the place where he had rescued the three maidens with his gold. The structure remained intact, but whoever had occupied it in recent years left it in great disrepair. The walls were dull and peeling plaster, the mosaic floors cracked as if someone had carelessly beaten them or dropped things on them. The roof was missing tiles at points.
What it lacked in beauty, it made up for in people. Men, women and children were settling into whatever corner they could find. Some were sweeping the atrium, others scrubbing the walls and floors. All greeted Nicholas and Gordian with smiles. Gordian explained, “They are all brothers and sisters. Freed from the mines or from prison, or left without a place to stay.”
Nicholas said, “What can I do to help?”
“There will be time for that later,” said Gordian. “But first you need some food and rest.” He brought Nicholas to the kitchen where some hot soup simmered.
Nicholas gave it a sniff. “Lentils?”
“Yes, they’re a bit plain. I hope you don’t mind. ”
“Not at all. I would like them very much.”
As he savored the lentils, he could not help but think of old Stephanas. He wondered if his hermit life might have kept him out of the great war on the Christiani. He might very well still be weaving baskets and kneeling towards Bethlehem. He grinned to himself and thought, His loss.
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