The Copyists

Alexios crossed the courtyard through the crowd gathering beneath the colonnades. Half of Alexandria seemed to have climbed the hill overnight. Families, priests and scholars alike huddled in Serapis's shadow.

He searched for Theon as he climbed toward the archives and found him there.

"Is it true?"

Theon set a manuscript aside. "The decree was given last night."

"By Theodosius himself?"

"By Theodosius."

Alexios glanced toward the crowd below. "What happens now?"

"I don't know."

"How long do we have?"

"I don't know."

"What do we do?"

Theon shook his head. "It isn't up to us anymore. You've seen what happened to the temples."

"Yes." Alexios waited.

"The men who come here will decide what survives."

"And if they decide nothing should?" Alexios asked.

"Then all will be destroyed."

Alexios watched Theon wrap another manuscript.

"You're leaving again?"

Theon didn't answer.

"The decree was just given. People are sleeping in the courtyards. They're scared, and you're leaving now?"

"I should’ve left days ago."

Alexios stared at him.

"Where are you going?"

Theon continued working.

"South."

Alexios glanced at the chest.

"This is what you've been doing, isn't it?"

Theon said nothing as Alexios pressed.

"It is. Every time you've disappeared. You owe me an explanation."

"I'm going south to Nitria. Yes, it's where I've been going. Not always Nitria, but places like it."

"Every time?"

For a moment, Theon didn't answer. Then he looked up.

"Every time."

Alexios pointed at the chest.

"You're taking manuscripts somewhere, aren't you?"

Theon rubbed his eyes.

"I've been making these trips since before you arrived."

Alexios waited.

"The monks have copied manuscripts for centuries. Long before any of this." He gestured toward the courtyard. "At first I took them damaged texts. Incomplete copies. Things needing preservation. But with temples closing and soldiers coming, I started carrying more."

Alexios stared at him.

"You've been doing this for years."

Theon nodded.

"I can carry a chest myself. I can't carry this much."

He looked at Alexios.

"I need your help this time."

"You're taking them to Christians. With everything happening, you’re taking them to Christians?"

Theon set the manuscript aside.

"I'm taking them to monks."

"They follow the same faith."

"Yes."

Alexios pointed toward the courtyard.

"Then look outside. Look at the people sleeping in our halls. Look at what's happening to the temples."

"I am looking."

"And you're still doing this."

"I've known some of these men for years."

Alexios shook his head. For a moment neither spoke.

Then Alexios said, "You trust them?"

"I trust them to do what they've always done."

"And what's that?"

"Copy manuscripts."

"And if you're wrong?"

Theon was quiet a moment.

"Then we're wrong together."

He rested a hand on the lid.

"But judgment is a luxury for people with time, Alexios, and we’re out." 

Alexios looked around the room.

"There are thousands of manuscripts. We can't take thousands."

"We're taking records. Texts with annotations."

Alexios frowned.

"The records?"

Theon nodded.

"And after that?"

"Whatever we can carry."

The answer seemed absurd against the number of manuscripts surrounding them.

"That's not much."

Theon pushed himself to his feet.

"No. Start gathering what you can. I need to find a mule, and I'd like to be on the road before midday."

Alexios spent the next hour packing, choosing what he could and abandoning more. By the time Theon returned with a mule, the chest was waiting to be loaded.

Together they led the animal toward the gate. Alexios paused beneath the colonnades. Around him stood centuries of work. For the first time, it looked fragile.

A woman stopped him on the road asking for help. He could offer only barley bread. Then they left the hill behind and turned south as Alexandria faded into dust and heat.

The mule carried on while neither man spoke.

Late that afternoon they came upon three men resting beside the road.

One stood as they approached.

"Where are you headed?"

"Nitria," Theon replied.

The man's eyes settled on the chest.

"That's a great deal of trouble for just two men."

Alexios felt his grip tighten on the lead rope.

The man stepped closer.

"What are you carrying?"

For a moment no one spoke. Theon reached into his robe, produced a few coins, and dropped them into the man's palm. The man weighed them, then stepped aside.

"Get on with it, then."

By sunset they reached Nitria.

The monastery emerged from the desert in fading light, its walls little different from the earth around them.

A pair of monks stood near the entrance speaking quietly. One shaded his eyes as the travelers approached.

Then he smiled.

"Theon."

Theon smiled back.

"Abba Mattaios."

The two embraced.

"You've come a long way."

"Not as far as some."

Mattaios laughed and looked toward the mule.

His smile faded when he saw the chest.

"You brought manuscripts."

"A few."

"A few," Mattaios repeated.

Another monk emerged from the gate.

"Isaak," Theon said.

The monk clasped his forearm.

"It is good to see you."

"And you."

A younger brother appeared at Mattaios's call and led the mule away. Alexios followed the chest with his eyes until it disappeared through the gate. No one asked what was inside, nor seemed surprised.

Bread, lentils, olives, and watered wine were brought to the courtyard. As they ate, Mattaios listened to Theon speak. When he finished, the monk sat in silence for a moment.

"We've heard rumors."

"They're true."

Mattaios lowered his eyes.

"I feared that."

The conversation drifted, but Alexios barely followed. The men spoke easily together, like continuing a conversation interrupted months earlier.

When darkness settled, Alexios was shown to a small cell that held a mat, a blanket, and an oil lamp. Alexios sat for a while before lighting the lamp.

Beyond the wall he could hear distant voices. Alexandria felt impossibly far away. For the first time since leaving the Serapeum, he accepted that he would sleep here. And for the time being, he was grateful for it.