“So be it. I do not want our daughter frightened at such a tender age.”
Valeria was even more perplexed now. She had to know what could be so dreadful that her parents wanted to protect her from it. Curiosity overcame her, and she stepped out from behind the curtains.
“Valeria!” the couple cried in unison. The shock on their faces was evident, as her mother jumped up from the divan and walked over to her daughter.
“What were you doing hiding behind there?” Prisca demanded.
Valeria ignored the question, and asked, “What is this ominous threat that you are afraid to tell me about?”
Her parents looked at one another for a moment and then burst into laughter.
“Come here,” her father coaxed, reaching out for her.
Valeria remembered protocol and fell prostrate before her father. She wondered if he were still smiling or if his initial humor had turned to anger, but from her vantage point all she could see was the jeweled hem of his robe and his pointy red slippers encrusted with diamonds. One thing the emperor would not tolerate from any of his subjects, including his daughter, was the refusal to bow down before him, so she had to remain perfectly still until he dismissed her.
There were no servants in the privacy of her mother’s room, and Valeria felt her father’s hand reach for her to help her to her feet.
Accepting his invitation, Valeria took his hand. Diocletian pulled her close and peered over the top of her head as he announced to his wife, “There is no greater fear than fear of the unknown. I must tell her.” He paused, as if waiting for his wife’s approval.
“Oh, do tell, Father,” Valeria begged, filling the silence as she pulled away from him and shot her mother a pleading look.
“Very well,” Prisca agreed, as she resumed her seat on the divan and patted the spot beside her.
Once the women were seated, Diocletian explained. “As you know, I am leaving for Gaul in a few weeks to join my troops in order to quell an uprising by the Burgundy rebels.”
“I do know, yes. And I will miss you terribly, Father.”
The emperor smiled. “I will miss you, too, my darling. But if you must know, I am sending you and your mother to Egypt, not for pleasure but for your protection.”
“But I thought our palace in Nicomedia was the safest place in the Empire,” Valeria argued. “You have told me so on numerous occasions.”
“At one time this was true, but our reconnaissance spies have heard rumors of a plot by the rebels to invade Turkey. With all the uprisings throughout the empire, and the majority of the army, as well as me, away in Gaul, our castle in Nicomedia could be in imminent danger. Should our home be invaded, your lives and the servants’ could be in jeopardy. I cannot risk such a threat.”
Valeria hung her head. “Please forgive me, Father. I had no idea you were saddled with such an enormous burden.”
Her father lifted her chin with his thumb and index finger. “You are not to worry your pretty head about me, nor anything else for that matter. You and your mother will be safe and happy at the palace in Egypt. Some of the finest armies in the empire are stationed there.”
“Thank you for your concern for our well-being, my lord,” Valeria answered, humbled by her father’s care, though still doubtful that Egypt would be nearly as pleasant as he claimed.
2
Accompanied by a fleet of a dozen ships, the royal ship was extravagantly fitted for the empress and her daughter’s comfort on their journey to the island of Elephantine in Upper Egypt.
Valeria spent most of her time on deck, basking in the sun and viewing the picturesque Greek Isles along the route. One moonlit night after dinner the ship’s captain stopped to exchange pleasantries with Valeria and Prisca. The women marveled at the stars that twinkled across the black velvet landscape of the sky.
The captain pointed upward. “See the brightness of the North Star tonight? That same star has led ships to their destinations for centuries. It is the star that led the wise men to the Christ child.” After his explanation, the captain tucked his chin in what Valeria imagined to be embarrassment over his mention of Jesus. It was no secret that Diocletian was a devout pagan with little tolerance for the Christian religion.
Prisca quickly reassured the captain. “My husband employs many Christians for their loyalty and integrity.”
The captain lifted his eyebrows, appearing surprised.
Valeria understood that her mother was trying to put the captain at ease, so she added, “Father speaks highly of the Christian soldiers in his army too. He says they are honest and loyal.”
The captain’s jaw relaxed, and he smiled. “It is God’s command . . . to do everything with excellence, as if unto our Lord.”
“An intriguing impetus,” Prisca observed. “I should like to learn more about your faith and this Jesus you worship.”
“Then you are traveling to the perfect place,” the captain assured her. “The Coptic monks in Aswan are considered the greatest biblical scholars and teachers in all the Roman Empire. Madame could perhaps arrange a meeting with them.”
Prisca smiled. “Perhaps I shall,” she said, turning to Valeria. “Are you ready to go below? I am tired, and it is time for me to begin my bedtime beauty rituals.”
“Oh, Mother, could I please stay and stargaze awhile longer?”
Prisca hesitated and then spoke to Valeria’s lady-in-waiting, Eugenia, who was seated nearby. “Valeria is behind in her studies. She has my permission to stay if you will give her a Roman astronomy lesson.”
“I am sorry,” Eugenia answered, “but I am not qualified to teach astronomy.”
Prisca raised her eyebrows.
“What I mean is . . . I am hardly the person to do so, Madame. I do not believe—”
Prisca’s eyes narrowed, and her reprimand was sharp and to the point. “Were you not taught astronomy as a child?”
“Of course, but I cannot—”
“What you are really trying to say is that you object to our method of teaching astronomy. Is that it?”
Eugenia hung her head.
“I will not tolerate your religious beliefs interfering with the education her father and I have chosen for our daughter.”
“Forgive me, Empress.” Eugenia bowed before her mistress, her eyes lowered in obvious embarrassment. “I will gladly provide Valeria’s lesson.”
Prisca, still stiff with anger, nodded before turning to her daughter. “Good night, love,” she whispered before she went below, her entourage of servants following.
When they were gone, Valeria reached over and touched Eugenia’s hand. “By morning, Mother will have forgotten this little altercation.”
Eugenia, only a few years older than Valeria, bit her quivering lip and blinked back her tears, but forged ahead with the lesson. First she fetched some papyrus and sketched two constellations before pointing to the sky. “You see the North Star, the one the captain pointed out earlier? It is actually the tail of Lesser Bear, Ursa Minor.”
“Son of Jupiter,” Valeria interjected. She looked up at the sky and then ran her fingers over the illustration Eugenia had sketched for her.
“Very good.” Eugenia smiled at her eager pupil. “Across from it is Larger Bear, Ursa Major—the boy’s mother, Callisto.”
“Stop.” Valeria held up her hand. “Jupiter’s wife is Juno. Where does Callisto fit?”
“Let