Free Wrath of Rome (Book Two of the Dominium Dei Trilogy) by Thomas Greanias

where the church’s leaders could meet in safety away from the bustle of the town below.
    The villa reminded Athanasius very much of the hillside home he and Helena shared—or once did—back in Rome, and this depressed him. It had running water, heating systems, private inner courtyards, and a rich décor of mosaics and frescoes. It represented all the refinements of his former life, symbols of what he most likely would never enjoy again.
    They were greeted by young, well-groomed members of the church who lived in the house as staff, and ushered into the largest room, where another young man was waiting for them. He was certainly no Timothy, who may have been a young disciple of Paul’s when he had written his letters to the churches but was now about 70. This man was about his own age, Athanasius guessed, certainly no older than 30.
    “My name is Polycarp,” the young man said. “I’m the apprentice bishop to Timothy here in Ephesus. Please, come in.”
    They sat around a table with a burning candle in the center, Athanasius opposite Polycarp, Virtus standing by. “Polycarp, you say?”
    Polycarp nodded without betraying any emotion. “I believe you have something you wanted to give me?”
    “Yes,” said Athanasius, handing over John’s letter.
    Polycarp opened it and began to read. Athanasius watched his eyes carefully, noting them darting back a couple of times to a particular line, working out the cipher in his head. He eyes grew wide in alarm the longer he scanned, despite no other change on his face. He swallowed, folded the letter and slipped it into his toga.
    Athanasius could see the bishop trying to make sense of whatever it was John said, starting with whether or not to share it with him. What he said first he said to a servant. “Wine, please.”
    The servant nodded and departed, and Polycarp cleared his throat. “So you are Athanasius of Athens, successor to Chiron. I never did believe that when I heard it. You say the Dei is an imperial organization, and John, the man who discipled me, is inclined to agree. He wants me to consider sending you on to meet Cerberus.”
    “Cerberus?”
    “Our most vital contact with the church in Cappadocia.”
    “The ‘eighth church’ John told me about?”
    Polycarp nodded. “His identity is a closely guarded secret. Even I don’t know who he is.”
    “Well, where is he then? How soon can I meet him?”
    Polycarp shook his head. “You don’t meet with Cerberus, Athanasius. He meets with you. And I’m not going to send you to him, because John cautions that you could yet be a spy from Rome sent to destroy the Church.”
    Athanasius glanced at Virtus, who looked equally surprised. They said nothing as the servant returned with the wine Polycarp requested. Polycarp handed cups to him and Virtus, and took a sip of his own. Then another. He was obviously unnerved by what John had written.
    Virtus said, “Bishop Polycarp, I think Athanasius’s theory about the source of the Dei being here in Asia Minor is correct. I’m not sure I grasp all of it. But I am certain that the Dei is not Christian.”
    Polycarp looked aghast. “You think it is apart from both Rome and the Church?”
    “It certainly operates in Rome and clearly here in Ephesus,” said Athanasius, trying his wine and finding it quite good. “But it’s not imperial, as I originally thought. And it’s not Christian, if we are referring to the apostles Peter, Paul and John. Its origins come from elsewhere. And I think our best lead to where is a local shipping operation.”
    “Yes?” asked Polycarp, hanging on everything that Athanasius was saying.
    Athanasius was about to continue, but as he tasted the full effect of his wine, he lost his train of thought. He took another sip, pausing, swirling it in his mouth, actually enjoying it. “This wine is excellent, Bishop Polycarp. Surely you don’t serve this during those mass communion services of yours?”
    Perplexed at the sudden shift in the