Rain came. It cleansed the city. The blood in the Hippodrome washed into the streets and gutters and eventually into the Bosporus. Hypatius and several senators were beheaded and their bodies dispatched into the cleansing waters. A nervous calm settled over the city. Debris from the fires joined the bodies in the water. Rebuilding began. Justinian consulted architects and craftsmen and ordered the rebuilding of the city, most notably the Hagia Sophia, Church of Holy Wisdom. Workmen had jobs. Farmers planted anew and bellies were full.

The doors to the Hippodrome were closed. Permanently. Justinian announced that chariot racing would cease. The Blue and Green factions lost power without the chariot races to sustain the competition and anger. Those who lost family, lovers and friends grieved.

Marus returned to Sophia’s apartment one last time and took her sleeping gown. It held her fragrance. Her essence. Marus could bury his face in the cloth and see her face, feel her soul. He kept the gown by his bed and called to her in his sleep.

Justinian ordered Belisarius back to Persia to control uprisings. Marus went as well, keeping Belisarius and his officers well-fed. He kept the sleeping gown in a leather pouch that was always by his side. The sounds of battle no longer excited him and he kept as far away from the battlefield as possible. He had no quarrel with the Persians.

He learned their way of cooking, using spices and herbs he had not tried before. He collected new plants and brought back samples to grow in Constantinople.

He accompanied Belisarius to Africa to fight the vandals and found a whole new way to prepare dishes. The Ostrogoths fell as Belisarius entered Italy on his way to conquer Rome. Marus added new recipes to prepare.

The dream began to form. Night after night Marus pounded on the door of the Hippodrome calling Sophia’s name and hearing the screams within.

In the year 536, four short years after the riots, the sky became dark and did not lighten when the sun rose. The air became thick and it was difficult to breathe. Many thought it was another sign from a displeased God. Crops failed. Animals died. Famine took many lives. Priests bellowed that sinners must repent. And everyone sinned. The darkness lasted for six seasons. Many died.

Whenever Belisarius was recalled to Constantinople, Marus would accompany him. On one such visit, Marus made his way to a tavern. He sat alone and listened to the conversations around him.

A familiar voice reached his ears and tightened every muscle in his body. Could it be? Peter? He rose and peered around a support pillar to see his old friend laughing at his own joke. “Peter?”

Peter looked up, his face paled as if seeing a ghost. “Marus?”

“Peter, I thought you dead.”

“And I, you.”

The friends embraced. Marus joined the group at the table.

“Peter, how did you survive? I thought you went with Sophia to the Hippodrome.” Marus’ mind was racing. Could the impossible be possible?  “Is Sophia with you?”

“Oh, Marus, no. I am sorry. The day of the massacre I was called to the countryside and did not hear about the horrors until many days later. I assumed you and Sophia had gone. I went to her apartment when I did return and found no trace of her or you. I assumed the worst.”

“You are risen from the dead for me. I, too, thought the worst of your situation. I searched for you. Seeing you brings me hope that Sophia may yet live.”

“No, Marus. She does not. I have proof.”

“What proof?”

“I know not why I carry this always. Maybe God has kept me alive to deliver this to you.” Peter retrieved a small sack from his belt. “When I returned to the city after the horrors, I met several unsavory sorts trying to sell ill gotten objects.” Peter paused and opened the sack. He pulled out a delicate silver bracelet with a colorful stone entwined.

Marus recognized it immediately. He had purchased it for Sophia on a spring day soon after they declared their love for each other. There was no mistaking it.

Peter continued, “I paid the exorbitant price this thief was asking and vowed to carry it always.” He placed the bracelet in Marus’ outstretched hand.

“Sophia.” Marus breathlessly whispered. “Sophia.” His hand closed around the object and his eyes became wet with emotion. He had not cried in a very long time.

At this point every patron in the tavern had turned in the direction of the two old friends. Peter nodded to his companions and took Marus by the arm to lead him to a table more secluded so they could talk privately. The patrons resumed conversations, speculating on what they had just witnessed.

Peter began, “Marus, I am taken aback. I feared I would never see you again. I, too, have grieved for Sophia. And for you. But now my heart is relieved of that burden for you. You live and you appear well.”

“My body has the advantage of table scraps from Belisarius’ table and is healthy. My soul is empty for lack of Sophia. I hear her voice every day. I feel her essence around me. But, alas, I cannot hold her or touch her. I can only love her memory.” Marus paused. “What of you, my friend? How have you spent time since last we met?”

“I continue my craft. Justinian has ordered rebuilding of the city and I work on the greatest of projects – the rebuilding of the Hagia Sophia. I direct the creation of mosaics. I live modestly with my fellow artisans. My days are full.”

“And your nights? Have you found love?”

Peter laughed. “My work is my love. I find pleasure where it may be.”

“Ha! My old friend,” Marus was beginning to relax in the renewed companionship. “And you restore the church of holy wisdom, the Hagia Sophia. Perhaps your work has also kept alive the memory of my Sophia. I will think of this church as a monument to her. My Sophia certainly held the wisdom of life. If only she were still here to give her wise council.”

Peter was silent. Then, “I am so sorry, Marus. I hope you again find love.”

“Love is not what I am seeking. The memory of Sophia carries more love than you can imagine. I seek to avenge the reason she is only a memory.”

“I am not sure what you mean.”

“Peter, my friend, this tavern has many ears. I have yet to speak of my quest to another. I will not speak of it here. Tomorrow I go to the fields surrounding the city, outside the wall, to gather fresh herbs. Join me and I will tell you all.”

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