Shadowlight - By Lynn Viehl

Antiquities Auction, New York

Lot 17—Collection of Olivia Kelly

Sealed Bronze Scroll Case, Carved as Figure of a Goddess,

Roman Imperial, Augustan, Late First Century BCE/Early

First Century CE, with Intact Papyrus Scroll, Height 7 in.,

17.8 cm.

$600,000-900,000 USD

Outer Case Modeling:

The goddess Minerva standing with her weight on her left leg and her head turned to the right, her hands resting at her sides, wearing a chiton and peplos fastened on the right shoulder and falling in staggered folds down her left side, finely detailed face with thin nose, full lips, and narrow eyes with recessed pupils, her centrally parted straight hair woven into a crown of feathers and arrows.

Papyrus scroll, heavily inscribed in Latin, translation:

Gaius Maelius Tanicus to Nero Claudius Drusus, his friend and brother by the sword, many warm greetings.

Before all the gods I pray for your good health and safety, and send many salutations to your mother and her children and your family. Forgive the strange route by which I send this message, but I dare not place my trust in our couriers. Know that I arrived in camp in good health twenty-four days before the calends of October, and assumed my post as prefect.

I have discovered that the one in service to our enemies the Cherusci has been encamped here since the thaw, although at the time of writing this letter I have yet not confirmed his identity. The evidence of copied scrolls, diverted marches, and assassinations among the ranks persuade me to believe him to be one of the couriers sent up from Judea last winter. Several have left the camp since my arrival, some hastily, all traveling to the southern camps. Among them, I am convinced, hides the traitor.

Tomorrow I shall journey to the forests near the mountains, where the Cherusci have been in skirmish with our border legions. Many have been captured alive, and from them I will obtain his name. Whenever I find a trustworthy messenger I will write to you of my progress and, I pray soon, too, my success.

Remember me in your prayers, brother, as you are ever in mine.

(Seal of) Tanicus

September 29, 2008

Inside the cool, quiet offices at Finley’s Auction House, the staff attended to the countless tasks involved with the acquisition, inspection, and sale of rare and costly antiquities from all over the world. Patrons compared the atmosphere to that found within the walls of a place of worship, where voices rarely rose above a murmur outside the spectacle of the services provided once each week. Others didn’t care for the silence and shadows, or the dusty relics that arrived packed in straw and swaddling linens. The staff’s reverence for their work was obvious, but some felt it excessive—as if the precious things they handled were sacrosanct symbols of some private, pagan religion.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Harris Finley, the proprietor of the auction house, said over the phone as he reviewed the listing for the Minerva scroll case. “But bidding for that item is now closed.” He listened. “No, sir, I don’t have any information on the bidder. He purchased it through a third party and paid for the item with a certified bank check. May I ask—” He stopped, winced, and held the receiver away from his ear before he hung up the phone. “What an ass.”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Finley?” Jean, his young assistant, asked.

“Late bidders inevitably have bad tempers, my dear, especially when they’re very rich men unaccustomed to having their demands refused.” He regarded the listing once more. “This time, however, he’ll simply have to accept defeat gracefully.”

Jean frowned. “Who do you mean, sir?”

“Mr. Genaro.” Finley gave her a rueful glance. “It seems he never received a copy of last week’s preview.”

Now his assistant winced. “Oh, no. I thought I had e-mailed everyone.”

“Not to worry. These things happen, my dear, even to the illustrious Mr. Genaro.” Finley chuckled and patted her shoulder. “A two-thousand-year-old intact Roman scroll is a treasure worth having, certainly, but it isn’t as if losing it to another bidder will destroy his life.”

September 29, 1998

Minerva woke up early to watch the sunrise, and went out to sit on the front balcony of Sapphire House while the city’s lights still glowed soft gold against the dark silk duvet night had pulled over Savannah. She often welcomed the day there, much to the annoyance of the neighbors, who believed that the only women who rose from their beds before noon did so simply to cook and clean for those who didn’t.

Seeing the sunrise today was important to Min.