The Song of the Gladiator by Paul Doherty Page B

Father, pure spirit, sees an image of himself; that image is the Son, eternal and real, like the Father but not the Father. For all eternity the Father has always coexisted with His image. He loves that image and the love which exists between them is another person, the Spirit. Three persons but one God. Our faith teaches that the Son became incarnate, Jesus Christ, God yet man, confined yet infinite. The Arians, however, preach a different faith which would destroy the Trinity and reduce Christ to some glorified angel.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘The Arians must not win the debate. I will be joining you at the Villa Pulchra, Claudia, to persuade the Empress to give us her support. I want the Arian heresy to be destroyed and our unity maintained.’
    ‘What happens if they resist?’
    Sylvester rubbed his cheeks with his hands. ‘More stringent methods might be necessary; a diseased limb must be cut off.’
    ‘You mean, you’ll have them killed? You Christians who love each other?’
    ‘Heresy in our Church is like treason in the State.’
    ‘But what about the love of Christ?’ Claudia teased.
    ‘Let Christ love them,’ Sylvester replied tartly. ‘The Church must survive, but that is only one half of the problem.’ He paused to collect his thoughts. ‘On the one hand we have men like Timothaeus the steward; he is orthodox to the point of fanaticism. He doesn’t like the debate, he thinks the Arians should shut up or be silenced. On the other side are the likes of Chrysis, Constantine’s agent and chamberlain, a pagan born and bred. He rejoices at these divisions amongst the Christians; he will ridicule the debate, try and cast us all as agitators.’
    ‘But there’ll be your Bishop’s representative, the one who will defend orthodox teaching?’
    ‘Oh yes,’ Sylvester laughed sharply, ‘and he might do more harm than good. Athanasius is hot-tempered, a true firebrand.’
    ‘Do you think any of these philosophers could have stolen the sword? They were present when the relic disappeared?’
    ‘It’s possible. They could have seen it as something sacred to Christianity, not to be put on show by pagans. Others could have stolen it, soldiers, officials. Chrysis was coming and going to the villa; he would like nothing better than to upset the Christians. Or,’ Sylvester took a deep breath, ‘it could have been an ordinary thief, attracted by the ivory hilt or the sparkling ruby. But that’s not important, Claudia.’ Sylvester gestured around. ‘What do we care about graves, relics, philosophical debate? The Church is leaving the catacombs, it must remain strong. At this moment in time we are tolerated, not accepted. One day we shall be. We shall be the Empire. Can you imagine it, Claudia?’ he whispered. ‘Church and State, working as one, the City of God?’ His voice trailed away and he sat dreaming his own dreams of Empire before recollecting where he was. ‘I understand your friend Murranus is in difficulties?’
    ‘Murranus is always in difficulties.’ Claudia got to her feet, picked up her cloak and staff. ‘So we meet again at the Villa Pulchra?’
    ‘I’m leaving for there now.’ Sylvester smiled up at her. ‘I’ll arrive within the hour and see what mischief is planned.’
    ‘Mischief?’
    ‘Just a feeling . . .’ Sylvester rose to his feet and gestured to one of the tunnels. ‘I’ll leave by another route. Safe journey.
    ‘Oh, Claudia?’ She turned.
    ‘Yes, Magister?’
    ‘When you met Murranus for the first time,’ Sylvester walked over, measuring his footsteps carefully, ‘was it by accident or design? Did he seek you out or did you him?’ He raised a hand in a gesture of peace. ‘Think about that.’
    Claudia did so as she raced hot-faced through the tunnel, holding the lantern up, aware of the pool of light moving around her. Sylvester’s words had unsettled her. She was in the Kingdom of the Dead; behind these plastered walls lay the remains of those who had died violent