XXVIII

415 AD

One Week Later

MOONLIGHT ON THE NILE

The northwesterly winds swept over the Port of Alexandria pushing against the tightly moored ships. Hemp ropes were coiled neatly in piles on the decks of the vessels. The harbor flourished with activity day and night with bartering between the ship's merchants and store owners. Activity never ceased at the port. Ship owners were unloading items from Africa's interior and coastal regions and unloading imports from the East and other far reaches of the empire.

Two riders on horseback made their way northward along the great Heptastadion, the bridge linking the mainland to Pharos Island. Breezes enveloped the riders, pushing against their skin like delicate silk. Hypatia, positioned behind Ramas, rested her head against his back. She could smell a hint of sandalwood fragrance on his skin. Her arms were around his waist and could feel his tight abdominal muscles. The two lovers wove through the harbor's traffic toward a quiet spot near the Lighthouse.

Hypatia looked over the port, searching for the dhows that belonged to Abdel Bakr. She entertained Ramas with stories of the secret Jewish hideaway that supplied The Pharmacia for the Poor with oils, balms and medicines brought to her by this wealthy trader who was also a trusted friend. She pointed to the docks that belonged to Bakr. She looked for the tall mast adorned with the gold crown, the master ship that sported blue sails that should be arriving tonight or early tomorrow morning. Hypatia pointed out to Ramas where Bakr's ship would likely berth.

Athena's gait was slow and precise. Her Arabian breeding showed in her bold prancing strides. Athena's slender, strong legs adjusted to the weight of the extra rider as she proudly carried her master and his friend. Her head high, Athenas markings set her apart from her select breed. She had four pure white stockings. A solid white blaze on her face began beneath the eyes and extended outside both nasal lobes. All of her markings were symmetrically balanced. Her ears, pointed up and slightly forward, suggested a keen hearing that was contributed to her fine breeding. She moved with arrogance, as if proud of herself and the two lovers on her back. Because it was in her breeding, she seemed to enjoy showing off. The eyes of dock workers admired her chestnut coloring reflected by the shine of the rising moon. Her flaxen mane and tail flowed in the breeze as she pranced across the causeway. Athena, named after the favorite daughter of Zeus, the Goddess of War, was truly a remarkably beautiful mare.

Crossing the Great Heptastadion, one could see the recent improvements to the bridge. Large rock boulders had been chiseled and securely placed to support the weight of the traffic. The borders along the rough shores of the island were also protected by the giant boulders. Orestes engineers had fashioned rough hewn stone blocks approximately one-eighth the size used in the construction of the Great Pyramid. These engineers could not fathom how earlier Egyptian workers could have lifted and move such great weights.

Much of the Pharos Lighthouse had been destroyed by a major earthquake fifty years before. Governor Orestes had organized a massive redevelopment program and commissioned Arab engineers to redesign the famous Lighthouse, bridge and causeway. They used technology that they thought would defy the threat and power of the wind. The result was an incredible structure that now jetted out into the conjoining waters of the Mediterranean and the Nile.

Pharos Island now looked like a small plot of sand locked inside the sea. Menacing waves still splashed along the newly supported shore. Eventually time would reveal that nothing could truly hold back the sea.

Ramas whispered, This is my favorite spots to get away from the pressures of the city. I often visit the point on the delta where the Nile spilled into the Mediterranean. I refresh with the smell of the sea. I hear music in the waves that crashed against the large boulders lining the harbor. Hypatia, I want you to see and hear what I feel. That is one of the reasons I brought you hear tonight.

Is there another reason that you have brought me here tonight, Hypatia asked with a smile?

The moon was ascending above the waters of the Nile, competing with the luminous Pharos Lighthouse. Athena carried them to a secure spot on the overlook. Ramas swung his leg over the Arabian's neck and landed on the sand. He lifted his arms to Hypatia.

Rare were the moments when she experienced a sensual embrace. Her thoughts reflected on the recent night in his private chambers. Would she allow herself to fall into his spell this night?

Hypatia thought about the many men throughout her life that had tried to woo her emotions and command her devotion and passion. Many had come bearing gifts and promises. Many scholars, from the far reaches of the empire would come just to see her face for they had heard of her marvelous physical appearance. It was unusual for a woman to have the opportunity for education. Many scholars, out of sheer curiosity, would come to witness this extraordinary woman. After listening to her lectures they were amazed that brilliance could be assigned to a woman.

These haughty scholars returned to their homes with a keener comprehension of reason and intellect and an immense respect for the female aptitude. She was living proof that women could possess intelligent thought. She expressed new thinking, the genesis of imagination. A universe of thought was displayed in her every sentence. One professor from the university actually spread a rumor that she was his wife in hopes that others would become less infatuated with her.

Merchants and sultans arrived, bearing precious gifts from exotic regions of the empire. However, she would not acquiesce to their obvious and unwanted bribes of seduction. Her heart belonged to no one, yet everyone claimed her. Until recently, it appeared that she could not be charmed by sensuousness. This new emotion she had for Ramas utterly mystified her.