He led Zaman and the donkey down the street. From the looks of the houses, they were clearly in a wealthy district. The architecture of the city felt foreign, from the colonnaded porticoes and square towers, to the pointed archways and trapezoid doorways.
He passed an old woman on the side of the road selling fresh yogurt and asked if any physicians lived in the nearby houses.
The woman only spoke Pahlavi, but she saw Elisa’s distress and pointed to the villa farthest down the street, the one that looked like a palace. Mathai thought he understood.
“Thank you,” he said. But since he was not buying anything, the woman just shooed him away.
Mathai led the animals through the villa’s archway into a courtyard. Countless sculptures littered the yard, and towering columns circled the fountain like a temple. Mathai had never seen a more extravagant, or cluttered, garden.
A house servant came out to greet them. Mathai tried to communicate with the man, but had no luck. The servant signaled for them to wait and disappeared inside.
Not a good start. Mathai rubbed his hands together, trying to figure out how to gain entry to the home. The family who lived here surely had a house physician. Mathai only dealt with injuries to the skin. Bringing a baby into the world required select skills he did not possess. The physicians of wealthy families delivered all their patrons’ children. This house would be Elisa’s best chance.
Soon a large man who looked to be in his fifties emerged. He was yelling in Pahlavi with the booming countenance of a much younger man. Mathai couldn’t understand his words but thought he must be asking, “Why are you at my house?”
“Sir,” Mathai interrupted as politely as possible. “Do you speak Syriac?”
“Of course I speak Syriac!” The man switched to Syriac immediately. “I speak Greek too. Do not come to my doorstep to insult me!”
“Forgive me…,” he said. Elisa let out a shrill moan from the litter. Mathai hurried on. “I’ve been told you have a physician.”
“If I let every stray and straggler into my home, then the whole city would be at my door. Be gone!” The old man turned to head inside.
“Please,” Mathai called to him. “I have many treasures I will give you in return. My family’s medical journals.” The journals were among his most prized possessions and he needed them for his work, but now was not the time to worry over such things.
The old man turned around. “Show me.”
Mathai rushed to the donkey and opened the bundle. “They are the finest copies—Galen, Hippocrates, Dioscorides’ De Materia Medica, which is a collection—”
“I know what De Materia Medica is, boy! Every doctor is toting the same.”
In desperation, Mathai riffled through another bundle and pulled out a thick codex. “No one has this.” He held out the manuscript. “From my wife’s family. Very old.”
The man opened the binding to examine the first parchment leaf and squinted. “Greek?”
Mathai nodded. He could not read Greek and knew very little about the manuscript. Elisa’s grandmother would often read parts to her and translate the words into Syriac. “It was taken from the Great Library of Alexandria before the fire.” Mathai wasn’t sure if that was exactly true, but whoever had written the work had seen the fire. That much he knew.
He almost offered the unusual divinity symbols that went with the manuscript, but the old man would not be interested in such a collection. Plus his wife seemed quite attached to them.
Mathai looked toward Elisa with relief. Her eyes were closed and she seemed oblivious to the exchange. He didn’t think she would be angry if giving away the codex would save her life and the child’s. The manuscript looked to be in perfect condition and would be a prize in any man’s library.
“Done,” the old man agreed, and suddenly a cluster of servants appeared in the courtyard to assist the newcomers. Mathai and Elisa were now guests.
*
The servants showed Mathai to their quarters and carried Elisa to the bed. The house physician appeared within moments and quickly began his examination. Mathai was relieved the man spoke Syriac. He had been told many physicians in Gundeshapur did.
“The baby will come soon. The birth will be difficult,” the man said.
Mathai met his gaze and saw the worry, the hesitation in his eyes. The words he had left unspoken struck fear in Mathai’s heart. The doctor wasn’t certain if Elisa or the child would survive.
“Until the time comes, she must rest,” he ordered, and then assigned two female servants to attend to her.
Mathai found their things had already been unloaded from the donkey and brought to their rooms. He unfolded a fresh robe for Elisa, which he gave to the servants. Then he located a clean tunic and pants for himself.
The house had the luxury of a private bath, and Mathai took great pleasure in washing away their journey. While soaking in the water he closed his eyes and prayed again for Elisa’s safety. He could not find a place to put the fear inside of him.
After his bath, he passed the dining room where the old man sat alone at a long table covered with platters of food. The savory scent of lamb made Mathai light-headed and he realized how long he had gone without a meal.
“Come!” his host ordered with his mouth full. “You must be hungry after such a journey.”
Mathai hesitated. “My wife…”
“… needs her rest. I insist. Share my wine.”
The feast looked more suited for a wedding banquet than an everyday meal, with so many dishes to choose from: eggplant with onion and mint, sun-dried yogurt, stuffed grape leaves, barberry rice, and a savory stew topped with grated walnuts. Mathai couldn’t believe such a meal had been prepared for one person, but he had yet to see another member of the household.
“Will your family be joining us?” Mathai asked.
The old man kept eating, ignoring the question. Instead he wanted to know about Antioch; he said he had visited years ago. Mathai learned the old man’s name was Admentos and that he had been one of the first Greek scholars to make his way to Gundeshapur.
Mathai listened and did his best to answer Admentos’ questions. During the lulls in their conversation he could hear Elisa screaming. The labor had begun, but Admentos would not let him leave.
After dinner he insisted on showing off his personal library. Mathai found the library as crowded as the courtyard. So many manuscripts and scrolls burdened the shelves that some hung precariously off ledges and others had fallen to the floor. Piles of codices were stacked in the corners of the room, too many to count. The man was a hoarder. Mathai wondered if he had even read half his works.
When Mathai saw Elisa’s manuscript shoved between five others on one of the reading tables, he was astonished. What had been a prized possession for them was merely another token in Admentos’ library.