Unburning Alexandria Read Online Free Page B

last person to see him. I tried to go back to that night in the prison with Socrates, but I couldn't get any closer than nine nights later. There was no trace of anyone by then. You must have restricted the chairs – they don't allow travel now to any time before nine nights after the last evening in the prison of Socrates."
    Heron nodded. "We need to keep that night sacrosanct – it is the only way we can make any genuine progress with this time travel. Otherwise, people could keep going back and undoing what we are doing. Socrates would be saved and unsaved and saved and unsaved, forever, in a never-ending loop–"
    Sierra realized that Appleton's footsteps had stopped–
    Heron caught her expression. "I assure you, I am only trying to help–"
    Sierra walked quickly across the room–
    But two Roman legionaries were at the door, before the knife was even in her hand.
    Heron told them in Latin to take her, but treat her with respect. He addressed Sierra, in the English they had been speaking. "Perhaps this will give you more incentive to come with me. I am reasonably certain that the visitor from the East who spoke to Theon about a cure for the illness of Socrates was Alcibiades."

 
    Chapter One
    [Carthage, 413 AD]
    "Synesius of Cyrene, Bishop of Ptolemais," Augustine's servant, a Nubian, introduced Synesius in rich, mellifluous tones.
    Augustine looked up from his scroll and nodded at Synesius. "You look tired – please sit."
    Synesius sat. "I worry about Alexandria. . . . Thank you for permitting this visit. I regret interrupting your work."
    "Marcellinus said it was about a matter of great importance to you, and this is all but finished." Augustine held up a scroll, and sighed. "It is named The City of God." Augustine nodded to the Nubian, who receded from the lushly appointed room. Augustine offered the scroll to Synesius. "Plato is redeemed. His words have much to teach us."
    "Thank you." Synesius unrolled the scroll, but only glanced at the words in front of him. He knew the offering of the scroll was symbolic, a courtesy, not an invitation to read. "We are blessed to have you . . . and your tolerance." Synesius rewound the papyrus. He closed his eyes for a moment, to prolong the good smell of it. Few things smelled as good to him as recently written upon papyrus.
    "Intolerance is all around us," Augustine said, sadly. "It is the source of my disagreement with the followers of Donatus, as you know. Intolerance from Christians is a response to the lingering cruelty of pagan Romans who have not yet seen the light, and the continuing brutality of barbarians. It has become more of a danger to us now than the pagans and barbarians themselves."
    Synesius nodded.
    "Would you care for a libation," Augustine inquired. "Wine? Kykeon?"
    Synesius's eyebrow rose slightly at the offer of kykeon - an ancient mixture of water, barley, and mint, rumored to sometimes have soul-expanding qualities. Synesius had imbibed the mixture only a few times, with no result other than his thirst was quenched and perhaps his psyche was calmed a bit. But he knew most of his brethren frowned upon it.
    "Yes, the drink of Socrates, thank you," Synesius responded.
    Augustine smiled and poured kykeon from a flask into two ornate cups. "Or of Plato, perhaps – some say he wrote his best dialogues under its beneficial influence." He handed Synesius a cup.
    Both bishops sipped.
    "Hypatia is at risk from the Nitrians," Synesius said softly, after a time.
    "You love her," Augustine observed.
    "She walks by the Lighthouse and the Library, more beautiful than the Lighthouse, more wise than the Library, in my dreams every night."
    Augustine closed his eyes. "You are in unusual need now, with your wife and your sons so young no longer in this world."
    "Hypatia refuses to leave Alexandria," Synesius said. "She will be killed if she stays."
    "You cannot be sure of that. But if she must die, what can you do – what can anyone do – in the face of the