#CRITICAL RACE THEORY EMPRESS OF CONSTANTINOPLE A Novel PART FOUR

#CRITICAL RACE THEORY PRESENTS

EMPRESS OF CONSTANTINOPLE A Novel

PART FOUR

EMPRESS OF CONSTANTINOPLE

A Novel

 By

Eugene Stovall

#HISTORICAL FICTION #WOMENS STUDIES #BLACK STUDIES #VATICAN #ARIANISM #GOTH #VANDAL #THEODORA #JUSTINIAN #HERESY #COPTIC CHRISTIANS #CHRISTIAN FICTION #SWEDEN #VIKINGS 

EPISODE SEVEN

Since Genseric’s conquest of Rome’s North African province more than fifty years ago, the hills that once housed Rome’ patrician elites and military officers, now are home to Vandal princes, nobles and merchants.  Carthage’s most luxurious palace, situated high upon the Byrsa, is the residence of Prince Raüs, the son of Hilderic, King of the Vandals.

Slipping into Prince Raüs’ private chambers, a massive Tuareg, with an ugly sun-bleached scar running down the side of his face, strides across the floor, covered with rectangular carpets of sheep wool, dyed with ornate designs and symbols. The giant Negro wears the traditional garb of North African people, a linen alba covers his white long-sleeve cotton shirt and loose chalwar trousers. Underneath his traditional attire, the North African wears a Roman breastplate. His outer wear is held together with a red tasseled sash, inside which is a curved dagger, encased in a jeweled scabbard, a sign of the Tuareg’s rank and importance. 

The Negro parts the draperies separating his master’s leisure area from his sleeping quarters and stepping through the partition that separates Prince Raüs’ bedchamber from his harem, the Negro guard approaches the Vandal noble, lounging on a sofa, smoking from his bejeweled hookah.

“The Messenger of Hippo has arrived, my prince,” the Negro murmurs bowing low, “ and awaits your pleasure.”  Between the Vandals and North Africans, the only common language is Latin which the Tuareg speaks not very well. Most of the Negroes of North Africa converse in the Latin dialect spoken throughout the empire which includes an admixture of Gallic, Spanish, Greek and Egyptian languages. However. the Vandals speak no Amazigh, the native language of the North African indigenous peoples.

“I will attend the Messenger shortly, Gwafa.” Prince Raüs responds. Then he nods and the women scamper from through the partition separating  his bedchamber from their harem. Bowing once again, Gwafa disappears back through the ornate tapestries.

“Shalom lekha!” a squat little man with a hooked nose and quick darting eyes says bowing low as Prince Raüs enters the palace’s public meeting room.

“What news do you bring?” the Vandal prince asks his visitor.

“It’s not good, mighty prince.” the Messenger responds in impeccable Latin. “The Romans are boycotting your grain shipments. They claim your prices are too high for the quality and quantity they receive.”

“Your people are well paid to market our grain throughout the empire,” Raüs counters, “Everyone wants our grain and willingly pay for it. Why are you having problems?”

Prince Raüs is King Hilderic’s economic minister and is responsible for the trade between the Vandal Kingdom and Rome. Hilderic expects the Vandal’s trade relations with Rome to flow smoothly.

“As you know, great prince,” the messenger replies, “my people complain that your father takes too much of the profits and leaves too little for them.”

For centuries, North African farms produce huge harvests of grains, vegetables and fruits that Rome distributed throughout the empire earning the patrician class of landowners and administrators huge profits ___ that resulted from keeping the indigenous peoples below subsistence level and enforcing Rome’s colonial policies with the whip, the sword and the cross. Rome’s legionnaires left little of Africa’s wealth for anyone other Romans. When the Vandal’s seized North Africa, controlling neither an efficient distribution system nor the means of production, Genseric turned to Jewish merchants who distributed North African produce as well as goods for the Vandals for a price. Now King Hilderic’s increased demands and increased charges by the Jewish merchants to their customers, the Vandal’s nascent trade economy is floundering.

“What other news do you bring?” Raüs growls.

“Only rumors,” the Messenger replies.

“What are they?”

“Your nobles say your father is too old to remain king. Rome’s patricians want him replaced.”

“Do you have any good news?” Raüs asks.

“When Emperor Justin was alive, the Vandal kingdom was secure safe from any threat from the Byzantines.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only this, mi’Lord,” the Messenger stammers, “your pirate friends are impacting Constantinople’s food supply as much and, possibly, more than they are impacting  Rome’s.” The Messenger pauses, considering how much more he should say. He decides to continue. “The Byzantines distribute far more free food to its masses than Rome. And since the Nika riots, Emperor Justinian is much more dependent on the goodwill of the populace ___ and food supplies from Egypt and North Africa.”

“You know the Emperor and King Hilderic are childhood friends ___ cousins even?” Raüs asks.

“Yes, my prince,” the Messenger replies.

“But you think that they are considering action?”

“When Justin was emperor, Constantinople would not attack you. But, the Empress Theodora hates the Vandals and their Arian religion.” The Messenger pauses to squint at the Vandal prince. “The empress would do anything to destroy you,” the Messenger continues. “And since the Nika riots, Theodora controls Justinian, absolutely.” “The Vandal Kingdom has survived Rome’s animosity and hate up to now,” Raüs observes. “And before he became emperor, Justinian sent an emissary to my father pledging his friendship. The two of them intend to conclude a formal alliance to rebuild the Roman Empire under Constantinople’s leadership.” “Only because Genseric had the foresight to lay the groundwork, when Hilderic was raised as a member of Constantinople’s imperial family,” the Messenger observes. “But there is no permanent security for the Vandal Kingdom if either Hilderic or Justinian are unable, to maintain the alliance.”

Once the Messenger departs, Raüs calls for Gwafa. “Inform my brother that I must speak with him.”

“Yes, my prince.”.

“Tell him that I will visit with him after Vespers.” Then he reconsiders. “Rather tell him I’ll be at the basilica after Compline.” It was now Nones, midafternoon. Raüs had plenty of time.

“Saffyya.” Raüs calls out the only woman in his harem that he considers his wife.

“Yes, my husband.”

“Make preparations.” “Preparations?” “I must speak with your father.” Antalas, Saffyya’s father is a Berber tribal chief and the great grandson of the blessed lord, Bishop Donatus Major. Raüs has a plan to secure the Vandal Kingdom against the Roman threat. And if anyone can help with his plan, it would be Antalas. The Messenger has made Raüs realize his Vandal Kingdom is facing a serious threat challenges. Neither King Hilderic nor the nobles, nor his brother, Raptus, are aware of the danger lurking around them. But Raüs does not share the Vandal court’s love for the bloodshed in the arena and avoids the Amphitheater’s gladiatorial contests. The bloody encounters, the ghastly contests, the hacking of limbs, the gushing of blood  makes Raüs physically ill. Neither can Raüs participate in the Arian heresy’s foul practice of eating flesh and drinking blood without retching. Raüs neither participates in the Arian Mass where blood and flesh are substituted for bread and water nor does he attend the king’s feast held at the palace in Hippo Regina after the gladiatorial contests. On the other hand, Hilderic and his court believe their participation in their barbarian practices are what has made Vandal culture great and delivered to them Africa’s bounty. Hilderic’s court despises Raüs and, even though he is the king’s son, the Vandal nobles treat him as a weakling and someone to be despised. But since Hilderic will not heed his warning, Raüs’ must turn to someone who will. That someone is his brother, Raptus.

*****

From its perch, high on the Byrsa Hill, Prince Raüs’ palace, overlooking Carthage, \ enjoys a panoramic view of the Gulf of Tunis where hundreds of inlets, formed  along the coastline of the Mediterranean, provide pirates ships with secluded hideaways from where they can prey on merchant vessels passing between Sicily and North Africa. And before consulting with Raptus, Raüs must speak with the someone who assist with the implementation of his plan.

Down Byrsa Hill, Gwafa races his master’s chariot past the Basilica of St Cyprian where Raptus presides over the Arian congregation and the council house, the seat of Carthage’s municipal administration. Passing through Carthage’s central district with its marketplaces, theatres, restaurants and the magnificent Antonine Baths, Raüs’ chariot enters the  harbor district with its Carthage’s granaries lined up facing the docks crammed with tons of wheat, barley, rice and other grains bound for Rome and Constantinople to feed the empire’s inhabitants. The area is filled with numerous warehouses that store precious and industrial metals, animal skins and wool, amber, ivory and fragrances and every other type goods available for export to distant ports. flow from warehouses to shipping vessels. Olives and olive oil are vital commodities throughout the Roman Empire. Great vats of olive oil, essential to Mediterranean diets and lighting lamps, continually fill jars and amphorae that are transferred to ships and transported around the world. The fertility of the land and the native expertise in horticulture making Carthage the world’s leading exporter of food, fills the city’s storehouses and marketplaces with the produce from orchards of olive, nut and fruit trees, groves of grape vines and vegetable farms. This is only a portion of what the Roman merchant and landowning classes lost with the takeover of the Vandals. Rome instigates conspiracies throughout the Vandal kingdom in a desperate effort to  retrieve its lost African wealth.

In the harbor district, Gwafa brings Prince Raüs’ chariot to a stop in front of a warehouse occupying an entire block and completely walled on three sides. At the back of the warehouse sits on a wharf served by several docks. Three armed men guarding the warehouse gate admit Raüs and Gwafa. Through the gate, a shaded portico leads around the warehouse to  a separate building whose ornate masonry and expensive woodwork proclaims the wealth and importance of its resident, Ingvar Jarlabanke, one of the most successful pirates of the Mediterranean and Raüs’ most important confidant.

His alliance with the Vandals has made Ingvar Jarlabanke the most prominent and wealthiest clan leader in Sverige, Sweden. Ever since Genseric’s bedraggled Vandal army boarded the Viking ships in southern Spain to escape annihilation from combined Gothic and Roman armies and to appear on the North African shores, Jarlabanke’s Swedish clans have prospered from wealth pirated from cargos being shipped all around the Mediterranean Sea. From the safety of the Vandal’s North African ports, Ingvar’s Viking pirates cruise the length and breadth of the Mediterranean, from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Nile delta and even up to the Black Sea, preying on any and all merchant vessels that meet their fancy.

A Negro servant ushers Raüs into a well-appointed area of Ingvar Jarlabanke’s splendid waterfront townhouse where the Viking pirate leader conducts his business.

“Ingvar, hej po dej!” Raüs shouts to the middle-aged Swede. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit, my prince?” Ingvar replies. The two men embrace each other fondly. Despite the splendor of his surroundings, the sea-faring tribal dresses in the rough homespun of a Viking sailor wearing a goatskin tunic and leather pants. Under Ingvar’s bushy eyebrows that almost completely hide his piercing blue eyes, the Viking pirate wears a permanent scowl on his leathery, weather-beaten face. “I have come to ask you to accompany me to the Antonine Baths,” Raüs smiles. “I am honored by your offer, my prince,” the Viking responds. “However, I must attend to a shipment that has recently arrived and the captain and crew await their payment.” “You work far too hard, my friend. Certainly, your son, Olaf, can pay the crew,” Raüs says referring to a younger Swede hunched over a table, jotting markings on a tablet.  “Olaf knows as much about your business as you do, does he not?” Ingvar smiles, but says nothing. But it is true that his son can manage his affairs as well as he. Olaf will make a fine clan chieftain, one day, Ingvar tells himself with pride. “I insist on your spending some time with me at the Antonine Baths. Possibly afterwards we can have dinner and go to the theatre.”

Raüs’ intrusion irritates the Viking who was busy logging the cargo of his latest haul into his accounting ledger. Afterwards, Ingvar intended to oversee the storage of the haul in one of his many warehouses. Then he intended to begin preparations for loading his own fleet of cargo ships that soon would set out on its long voyage home to Sverige. But, despite his busy workload, Ingvar must maintain good relations with his Vandal hosts. And Prince Raüs has always been his favorite court official. __and the easiest to deal with, Ingvar tells himself. “Nothing would please me more than to accompany your lordship to the baths, but you have caught me at an awkward time and ...”| “Nonsense my old friend,” Prince Raüs insists, “what is the sense of having all the wealth that we have helped you accumulate, if you cannot enjoy a bath, once in a while? Besides, I need your advice.” Ingvar eyes his noble guest. Though nearly twenty years Raüs’ senior, the elder man understands the younger man’s invitation is not a request. In economic matters, the prince speaks for King Hilderic.  Well does this young man deserve his reputation for diplomacy, Ingvar tells himself. He should be king.

“It’s been weeks since I visited the Antonine Baths,” Ingvar admits. “So, I will gladly accept your invitation.” “Good!”

The Antonine Baths, the largest in the entire empire, houses hot pools, cold pools and bubbling pools. The pools sit over underground furnaces that warms the water collected in giant cauldrons and delivers the water through a system of pipes to each of the pools. Each pool contains a warm water massaging fountain. Ingvar takes advantage of the fountain to massage away the aches in his tired body. And, for a brief time, the Viking chief is able to forget his cares and worries of a leader conducting piracy on the great Mediterranean against the navies of both Rome and Constantinople. “Is this not a delightful break from the tedium of work, my friend?” Raüs asks. “You are the only one of King Hilderic’s ministers who has the wisdom to understand what you want, the sense to know how to get it and the intelligence not to use force to get it,” Ingvar sighs. “That is why I like you my boy, even if the rest of your family do not.” “I appreciate your kind words, my friend, but this time I believe you have as much at stake as I.” “Is that so, mi’Lord.” Ingvar replies, wincing at the upcoming conversation he has been expecting. In the past several months, several nobles have attempted to recruit him into their intrigues.

Gelimer, Ammatus and Tzazo, the king’s cousins, have all approached Ingvar, offering inducements for control over the Viking fleet. “Hilderic does not realize how vulnerable he is,” the plotters explain to Ingvar. “Furthermore, you owe your allegiance to Genseric’s successor, whoever he may be.” But Ingvar decides not to take sides or get caught up in the upcoming power struggle. Ingvar has been waiting for Raüs’ proposition to remain loyal to King Hilderic. But to Ingvar’s surprise, rather than demanding his loyalty to King Hilderic, Raüs makes a surprising request.

“I need transportation down to Nabeul to visit my wife’s father,” Raüs confides to the Viking. “And you must keep my trip secret.” “Yes, mi’Lord,” Ingvar responds, greatly relieved not to be forced into taking sides. “When do you wish to depart?” “I will let Olaf know when I am ready.” Raüs’ tone is casual conceals, but it conceals the urgency of his request. “In addition, ...,” Raüs adds as an afterthought. “Mi’Lord?” “I need your Vikings to cease all raids on shipping in the Mediterranean.”

The silence following Raüs’ request, broken only by the gurgling of the Antonine Bath’s fountains, is deafening. But Ingvar is not surprised by the request. It is a shrewd move, the Viking tells himself. But I do not believe this request comes from King Hilderic, Ingvar takes a long time before responding. “I know we are impacting your trade with Constantinople and Rome,” Ingvar confesses, “but Rome has been decreasing the amount of food it distributes to the poor for reasons other than our raids.” Ingvar looks at the Vandal prince, his scowl is more pronounced. “But no matter the reason, I do not believe it comes from the Hilderic or his court.” “The request comes from Hilderic’s minister of trade,” Raüs replies. “The minister of trade wishes to offer a reduction in your raids as an inducement to increase their grain purchases by Rome as well as Constantinople.” “Your Jewish merchants don’t have any problem selling your products to your paying customers,” Ingvar points out. “We’re not the cause of the reduction in your sales to Rome. The Romans are using us as an excuse to collapse your economy. They want dismantle and crush you,  militarily.” “What our Jewish distributors are telling us is not a part of this discussion,” Raüs replies. “However, I would not be too concerned if they were to begin suffering mishaps in their trading activities.” Raüs gives Ingvar a knowing look. “Possibly, in another conversation, we might discuss how you might, ah, replace your losses.” “Reducing my economic activities will not encourage Rome to increase trade with you,” Ingvar declares. “You know that. What are you really after?” Ingvar scowls at the Vandal. “Your men squander all they earn on women and wine,” Raüs responds. “You have more than enough stored away to keep them content for a while. I just need some time to help my father out of his difficulties.” “You put me into a difficult situation, mi’Lord,” Ingvar replies. “And, as you know, your father isn’t even aware of what’s happening around him. Nor is he listening to your advice. Has he begun to admit you to his council?” “No!” Raüs admits, “He still doesn’t admit me to his council chambers.” As I thought, Ingvar tells himself. I increase my shipments to Sverige. “If you do not stop your raids,” Prince Raüs snaps, “you could be facing the combined fleets of Constantinople and Rome. Then you will be unable to send anything either to Sverige or back here,” Raüs snaps. “There will always be plunder to send where we reside,” Ingvar retorts, daring to challenge the king’s son. “I agree,” Prince Raüs says thoughtfully. “But once the Romans and the Byzantines realize where your plunder is heading, how long do you think it will take them to send their warships to Gibraltar and destroy every cargo ship that you try to send through those straits?”

Ingvar does not argue the point. He knows this matter will not be resolved here in the Antonine Baths. When they emerge from the baths, Ingvar begs to be excused from dinner. “You may rely on my discretion to transport you to Nabeul whenever you desire,” Ingvar promises. He does not commit to ending Viking raids on Roman and Byzantine cargo ships., With all these intrigues circling about, I better prepare for the worse and double my shipments back to Sverige, the Viking chieftain decides

EPISODE EIGHT

In the third century A.D., Africans who pioneer practices that shape Christian doctrines into meaningful religious observances, turn Carthage into an incubator of religious thought. Africans responsible for early development of Christian thought include Tertullian, Perpetua, Felicity, Clement of Alexandria, Origen of Alexandria, Cyprian, Athanasius and Augustine of Hippo. These

Africans articulated the beliefs that became acceptable orthodox Christianity. The North African, Augustine of Hippo who, along with his mother, Monica, was canonized a Roman Catholic saint, was not only a leading Christian spokesman, he was also the Catholic Church’s foremost persecutor of heretics and Jews.

The Bible ___ God’s Word ___ was created in A.D. 257 at a special council held in Carthage, presided over by Cyprian,  Bishop of Carthage and authorized by Dionysius, the North African Pope of Alexandria.

“Have you seen our father recently?” Raüs asks his brother, after Bishop Raptus admits him into his private living chambers.

“I visited his court a week ago,” Raptus frowns. “Father is not doing well!” Raüs settles into an overstuffed armchair. “The nobles, instigated by father’s cousin, Gelimer, vie for control over the Council. Father seems unable to maintain control.”

“Did you offer him any advice?”

“I advised him to bring you back to court.”

“How did he respond?” “He said that you were too important as his minister of economics to be concerned with court affairs. Things look bad.”

“And they could get worse?” Raüs asks. “How could things get any worse?” “I met with the Messenger of Hippo. The Romans are reducing the distribution of our goods through their channels. And they intend to prevent us from selling our goods through our own channels.”

“How can they stop us from distributing our goods anywhere we please?” Raptus asks. “Everyone wants what we have to sell.”

“They may want what we have; they are not interested in paying what father wants to charge,” Raüs explains.

“Father and I agree that you understand how to maintain our economy,” Raptus replies. “but we don’t agree that the problem is economic.” “Why not?” “Carthage is the wealthiest kingdom in the world,” Raptus points out. “The problem is the Roman Catholic Church and the Bishop of Rome who is promising the Roman patricians that the Church will support all their claims, economic and political, if they overthrow our Arian Catholic Church.”

“And you and father believe that the problem is our replacing Roman Catholicism with Arianism?”

“That’s a bit simplistic,” Raptus says, “but, yes, we believe that we can defeat Rome by replacing Roman Catholicism with Arianism. When Bishop Sylvester entered into a covenant with Constantine, both the empire and the church flourished. Emperor Justinian Father has assured father of Constantinople’s economic as long as we  support Arian Christianity.”

“You and father plan to align yourselves with Justinian?”

“Father committed to an alliance with his cousin, years ago.”

Raüs sips his wine and considers his brother’s  viewpoint.. “What you say is reasonable, but the problem is that the Arian Church of Carthage is not the Roman Catholic Church and the Vandal kingdom is not the Roman Empire.”

“That is true,” Raptus agrees, “But father believes that In Hoc Signo Vinces worked for Constantine and it will work for him.”

“But while you and father are driving the Roman Catholic priests out of their churches,” Raüs continues,  “Rome deprives father of his wealth and undermines the stability of his kingdom.”

“As long as we control the people,” Raptus counters, “we control the wealth. And the people love us. We do not enslave them, we do not rob them, we steal few of their women. Our rule is far milder than Roman rule. And this is because of the teachings of our Father Arius, blessed be his name. The Arian way of worshipping our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ is the true path to salvation.”

“It is true that you have no reason to fear the people,”  Raüs agrees, “but you should fear father’s nobles ___ those who council him not to listen to my advice.”

Raüs could not get Hilderic or Raptus to understand that, while the Berbers and other indigenous African peoples preferred the Vandal’s milder rule which increased their productivity, Rome still controlled underlying beliefs and values necessary for the distribution of products that was essential for the Vandal kingdom’s survival.  The Romans as well as the Byzantines consider the Vandal kingdom little more than a refuge for barbarians and pirates and, in the end, must succumb to a mightier, more powerful civilization. So even though Carthage was the center of Christianity, the breadbasket of the world and rich in minerals and commodities, Rome and Constantinople would ultimately annihilate the Vandal kingdom whether or not Hilderic was king.

“Brother,” Raüs asks, “what would you advise our father if you believed the Byzantines were preparing an attack?” “The Byzantines are not going to attack!” Raptus explodes. “Justinian loves father.”

“If our father’s enemies overthrew him, my brother,” Raüs observes, “Justinian would certainly attack.”. “What do you propose?” “Have you heard of the Circumcellions?” “Who?” “The band of wild monks who terrorize travelers, fight Roman soldiers and have even freed prisoners from incarceration,” Raüs says. “It is said the Circumcellions hate Rome and all Romans.” “Ah, yes. I’ve heard of them,” Raptus replies. “They wander about seeking personal profit. They have no master nor any discipline. Having no fixed abode, they stay nowhere for any length of time.” “They must live somewhere. No one can live in the wild, permanently, without some permanent refuge.” “Possibly,” Raptus replies, “but they certainly cannot be trusted. Christians everywhere curse these monks. Even the blessed Augustine warned about them. He dubbed these long-haired wild men, Circumcellions, vagrants and wanderers. Augustine believed them to be religious hucksters, inventing fictions about things they know about and offering opinions as if they were God’s messengers.” “Not unlike some priests we know,” Raüs laughs. Ignoring his brother’s sarcasm, Raptus continues. “They wear their haired long and want their listeners to think of them as one of the ancient prophets, like Samuel or Elijah. They even claim that ministers of God, wearing tonsures, are unworthy to teach the words of Jesus Christ.” “Be careful brother,” Raüs laughs, “you’re beginning to sound like a Roman Catholic theologian.” “I’ve also heard that, whenever these men have been apprehended and charged with crimes,” Raptus declares, “their confederates come to their rescue. So, what is your point about these wild men?”  “I intend to find them?” “Why?” “We will need allies such as these ___ when the time comes,” Raüs explains.

“Why?” “They could help us defend our eastern border.” “How do you intend to find these Circumcellions?” “As a matter of fact, I propose to travel to Nabeul and talk to my wife’s father.” Raüs gives Raptus an amused smile.

*****

 “Papa, my husband wishes to speak with you.” Nabeul is a prosperous

Saffyya and Raüs have arrived in the prosperous Berber settlement located on the coast of the Mediterranean, east of Carthage. It is the home of Antalas, Saffyya’s father, not merely a Berber tribal  chieftain, but the most prominent chieftain in the Vandal kingdom. Antalas is the great- grandson of the revered Donatus Major, who, before the Vandals, was Bishop of Carthage. When Constantine became emperor of the Roman Empire and established Christianity as an official state religion, Bishop Donatus and thousands in the Roman Catholic Church for rejecting the state’s takeover of the church.

“What is it that he wishes to discuss, my daughter?” “A matter of importance.”

Antalas entertains Saffyya and Raüs inside the courtyard of his residential compound where numerous stone buildings housing his family and servants, enclosed inside a stone wall, encircle his own two-story stone residence. Outside his compound. the Berber chief pastures herds of goats and sheep, stables his horses and camels and pens his chickens, geese and pigs. Nabeul’s townspeople crowd against the stone wall to catch a glimpse of their chief’s beautiful daughter and her husband.

“What does your husband wish to discuss,” Antalas asks, observing the rituals prescribed for a visit from guests of such stature. Saffyya sits very close to her beaming father, yet Chief Antalas speaks loudly, so that others of his household seated inside the courtyard as well as the tribesmen outside the stone wall can hear the discussion, as well.

“Noble chief of Nabeul, what news have you of the east?” Prince Raüs asks, having been given his cue to speak. Sitting some distance away from his father-in-law, Raüs is surrounded by his Berber bodyguards who are armed with war spears, bow and arrows and sheathed daggers. “Perhaps we should retire to my residence where you can rest and refresh yourselves from your journey,” Antalas responds rising from his ceremonial stool and leading the way into his home.

With the formalities completed, Antalas’ wives and servants prepare a feast for their visitors. After  they eat and drink their fill, Saffyya retires with her mother and the other women to share the latest gossip, while Antalas takes his son-in-law to an area where they can speak in private.

  “What do you wish to know, my son?” “Rumors have reached Carthage that there are some calling themselves, monks, who are inciting the tribes against King Hilderic.” “Many, traveling across the sands, spread rumors about many things,” Antalas responds. “It is not wise to listen to such rumors, as you should know.” “You give wise advice,” Raüs acknowledges, “but does my father know of false Christian monks who roam about the Rif, interfering with baraka and disturbing the peace of Christ. “Why should peace of Christ concern us, my son.” Antalas has no interest in being drawn into a discussion of the many heresies heard of the problems plaguing the Christian world. “I only ask about religious disturbances in the Rif because of your honorable ancestor, Bishop Donatus the Great, warned that a king’s control over Christianity was an offense against God.” “Some criticize us for following the teachings of the wise and noble Donatus, just as they criticize you for following the teachings of the noble Arius. But baraka and the peace of Christ are not the same as you must know, my son.” These barbarians from across the great sea bring nothing but greed and war, Antalas thinks to himself. Christ, himself, disrupts baraka for the people of the Rif. Antalas respects his son-in-law for his daughter’s sake, but he has little use for Christian barbarians and their constant intrigues. “What is the difference between baraka and the peace of Christ, wise chief?” “Baraka is in all things, my son,” Antalas sighs, “the peace of Christ exists for foreigners, bearing arms to war against my people and against each other.” “I bow to your wisdom, my wife’s father,” Raüs smiles, “but if it is true that baraka exists everywhere, it should also exist in the peace of Christ.”

Saffyya’s father, just as many of his tribesmen, accepted Christianity in the same way they accepted Roman rule ___ as necessary for survival. And, like most Berbers, Antalas remains faithful to the beliefs of the ancient gods who they have worshipped for millennia. Berber believe baraka gives all things life. Baraka empowers jewelry, talismans, ceramics and clothing with the ability to protect wearers from dark forces, illnesses and magical spells. “Yes, baraka even exists in Christian objects my son,” Antalas admits “but  I do not believe that you came from Carthage for a lesson on baraka.” “There are monks wandering about the desert, disturbing baraka as well as the peace of Christ,” Raüs says. “Do you have any knowledge of these monks who some call Circumcellions?” “Circumcellions!” Antalas  asks giving Raüs a curious look. “What do you want with those crazies?” “Some say that they wander about preaching that Christ’s kingdom is at hand,” Raüs replies. “Others say they are bandits who rob land owners and slave owners. Do you know where they can be found?” “What do you want of these crazy monks?” “I wish to talk with them.” Antalas eyes his son-in-law, suspiciously. The Berbers were allies of the Circumcellions in the fight against the Romans.

****

Raüs is pleased that Saffyya decides not to accompany him on his search for the Circumcellions through the desolate and rugged Maghreb. Though Saffyya is as familiar with the desert as any of the guides Antalas sent with Raüs on his trek, Raüs feels better about her being out of harm’s way. Even now, he begins to doubt the wisdom of wandering about this desert, tempting wild fanatics into attacking him and his party. And once contacts the Circumcellions, Raüs wonders, what can I offer to induce them to support King Hilderic? So Saffyya’s safety is one less worry.   

Antalas’ guides lead Raüs and his bodyguards along an ancient caravan route, paralleling the coast of the Mediterranean and then they turn south and plunge upwards into the Atlas mountains. After some miles, the party descends into a valley that separates the Tell Atlas mountains into separate ranges and a jungle of shrubs, evergreens and cypress trees, along with hanging vines and elephant grasses, filled with prickly needles and thorns create a virtually impenetrable obstacle to their progress. But after fighting through the jungle, Raüs and his party ascend the foothills onto a barren plateau where, in the distance, they can gaze upon the majestic Sahara desert. The plateau’s southern face drops down onto an isolated, hilly landscape, dotted with caves that offer shelter to any wishing to lose their self in this vast wilderness. This barren, land is still close enough to the trade routes for any bandits seeking to attack unsuspecting caravans. Raüs could understand why the Roman legions sent to clear out the Circumcellion from this land had no success ___ and why some of the legionnaires return after not seeing a single monk and why other legionnaires did not return at all.

“How soon do you think the mad monks will show themselves?” Raüs asks one of his guides. “We are but eight,” the Berber replies. “They are probably watching us, now.” 

“They have been watching for several days,” Gwafa says.

Indeed, even as the shadows of the setting sun begin to creep forward, a sinister figure wearing a hooded tunic and tattered robe, slips into Raüs camp.

“You wish to speak with the Circumcellions?” the stranger asks Raüs.

“Yes...”

“Then follow me ___ alone.”

“Gwafa always accompanies me,” Raüs replies.

“There are no slaves among our people,” the visitor snaps.

“Gwafa is no slave! He is my friend.”

“He may accompany you, if he desires.” the stranger shrugs, “but we walk, now.” Then the hooded figure turns on his heel and departs.

They journey over a rocky terrain where prickly shrubs cut their legs and clusters of dense bushes obstruct their passage. Their trek is especially grueling in the gloomy, moonless night. But as dawn’s rays begin cutting slivers of light through the eastern sky over the Tell Atlas mountains, the hooded monk brings Raüs and Gwafa to a sheer mountain wall that rises straight up into the air. Pushing through a mass of vegetation and a cluster of vines, the guide opens a portal where stairs, cut into the mountainside, lead up onto a broad plain lined with stone huts as well as corrals and pens for livestock. The monk leads Raüs and Gwafa straight to a massive two-story stone building set in the middle of the huts and animal pens. Inside the great building and thro, though an assembly hall filled with dining tables with a raised dais in front, they enter a small alcove, left of the hall, and into an austerely furnished room, where an elderly wizened face figure hunches over a table, cluttered with parchments, maps and instruments.

“Welcome, mi’Lord,” the elderly monk rasps. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

“The Messenger of Hippo, no doubt,” Raüs replies.

“I was told that you are perceptive,” the old monk smiles. “Please have a seat, you must be weary from your journey.” The elder waves at two straight-backed chairs in front of a stone fireplace,  He hobbles around the cluttered table takes one of the chairs. “You may dismiss, Gwafa. You will not require his services, here.” 

Raüs nods to Gwafa who follows the monk, who led them to the mountain retreat, out of the elder’s chambers.

“So, my prince, why have you sought us?”  

“King Hilderic needs your assistance, my good sir,” Raüs explains. “I have come to offer you an opportunity to enter his service and help protect our Vandal kingdom from the Romans.”

“I am told that your father does not value your advice,” the monk replies. “In fact, he has banished you from his court in Hippo Regis to Carthage.”

“You are well informed, good sir, so you must know that I serve as the king’s economic minister.”

“Why should your kingdom’s economy concern me?”

“The king’s nobles are conspiring with Romans against him,” Raüs replies. “The Romans want to reclaim control over North Africa. Do you want that to happen?”

The old man fiddles with his robe.

 “King Hilderic is surrounded by greedy nobles whose only interest is gold, women and blood.” The elderly monk’s piercing eyes peers over a hooked nose at the Vandal prince. The Messenger of Hippo is right about this one, the abbot thinks to himself. Perhaps he may be of some use to us.

“My father is not stupid,” Raüs declares, “he’s just old and too tired to fend off his enemies. But he confides in my brother, Raptus ___ and sometimes even in me.”

“You seem a likely counselor,” the abbot observes, “what have you done for your father to ostracized you?”

“Mt y enemies convince him that I He believes me too weak to lead Vandals,” Raüs confesses. “Why is that?” “I detest the sight of blood!”

King Hilderic is right to leave this one on the outside, the abbot thinks to himself. He is a non-conformist and cannot be trusted to do as he is told. “Our brother, Arius, created an irreconcilable schism among Christians,” the abbot sighs. “Whether it is for good or ill is yet to be determined. But I still fail to understand why you believe that I may serve your interests. young prince?”

“You must know that if the Vandal Kingdom falls and the Romans re-take control of North Africa, the Jews will suffer,” Raüs offers. “There will be nothing you and your monks can do to prevent bloody outbreak against them.”

“You believe that we are Jews?” the abbot smirks.

“I know it!” “That’s ridiculous!” the old says, glaring at Raüs. The monk is trying to decide how to dispose of the Vandal’s body after the elder has him killed. Even if he is an outcast, Raüs remains King Hilderic’s son and Chief Antalas’ son-in-law.  This one knows far too much to remain alive, but he could be equally troublesome after he is dead, the abbot worries to himself. And the Messenger of Hippo tells me that our survival depends on both. “After the Romans destroyed Jerusalem some of your refugees fled into Egypt and across the desert,” Raüs continues. “just like my people who left Scandinavia and were chased from Europe here. You converted Berbers to Christian-Judaism which is why they are your allies. Together you created the myth of the Circumcellion warrior monks.”

“You are quite clever,” the abbot observes. “But why have you put your life in my hands to tell me this?”

“Your last revolt against Rome, though it spread from Cyrenaica back through Egypt into Palestine, didn’t go so well, did it?” Raüs observes. “But if you support the Vandal Kingdom, together you could destroy Rome once and for all.” “As much as you think you know, young prince,” the abbot cackles, “you know nothing.” “What is it that I do not know,” Raüs asks. “In the first place, the Rome that once ruled an empire, no longer exists. We are uninterested in waging a war against ghosts.” “What else don’t I know?” “You must look east to Constantinople for the answer,” the abbot replies.  “But for now, young man, return to Carthage. I give you your life.” “What is it that I do not know?” Raüs persists. “Though some of what you say is true,” the elder agrees,  “though Rome will not return to power, your Vandal Kingdom has already fallen.” “How can this be true?” Raüs asks confused by the monk’s revelation.

He’s not as informed as he believes. the abbot thinks. But all young people believe they know far more than their elders. It’s a problem of hubris.  “When your Vandal king falls, my friend, it will be Constantinople, not Rome, that will seize Carthage.” “You must know that King Hilderic and Emperor Justinian are cousins. They hunted together as children ___ and exchange birthday gifts. No, we have nothing to fear from Constantinople.” “Even if King Hilderic is dethroned?” the elder monk asks revealing a secret unknown to Raüs. “I concede your point, my holy sir, but this is what I offer. My brother and I belong to a brotherhood of Arian Catholics. Our brotherhood seeks influence in Italy and Gaul. Ultimately the brotherhood is interested in an Arian Papacy to replace the Alexandrian Papacy.” This Vandal prince is a visionaries, the abbot tells himself. “How would you and your monks like to depart this wilderness for a  location in Gaul or even Italy where you could develop your religious community inside the bowels of the Roman Catholic Church?”

The Vandal prince’s unexpected proposal takes the elder monk completely off guard. For three centuries, guards from Jerusalem’s fallen temple, and their descendants, struggle to establish a secure North African fortress ___ a fortress resembling Israel’s ancient fortress of Masada. Now this Vandal offers Jerusalem’s temple knights an opportunity to recover their lost legacy. The old monk is now lost in thought.

“We must consider your proposal, mi’Lord,” the elderly man says after a while. His voice is soft as if in prayer. “In the meantime, give your brother, the Bishop of Carthage, my best wishes.”

****

All the way back to Carthage, Raüs can barely control his exhilaration. With his mind swirling with ideas about how to weld the communities of Jews Berbers and Christian heretics into a solid anti-Roman coalition, Raüs has accomplished far more than he hoped for. The idea of  replacing the Roman Empire with an Arian Empire has suddenly become a real possibility. Returning to Carthage, Raüs sends Saffyya home and hurries to the Basilica of St Cyprian to report his successful contact with the Circumcellions to Raptus. But before he can tell his brother anything about his meeting, Raptus makes a surprising announcement of his own. “Your cousin, Gelimer and his brothers have imprisoned our father, and seized his throne!”

To Be Continued ...

Copyright © Eugene Stovall (2024)

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