'I am not permitted to recount to you the sacred mysteries themselves. The secrets of Mithras have been guarded for centuries, and I am bound by my vows not to disclose them. Initiation is a long and terrible process, subject to many trials and tests, though because of the circumstances, my own was a hurried, compressed affair. Maximus inducted me in a private ceremony, separate from all his other disciples, for which I was greatly honored and flattered. On a night of full moon, he descended with me into an underground sanctuary, a hole wherein spirits dwelt, of such kind as require complete darkness and the subterranean damp to thrive. We walked slowly through the stone tunnel, a cold, dripping place that smelled of mildew and death, lit only by an occasional sputtering torch, and there, Caesarius, I encountered terrors such as I never imagined in my life — terrors which only increased in their intensity as my fears grew. Earsplitting screams from empty corners, revolting exhalations from cracks in the floor, fiery apparitions, such prodigies as you can never have imagined!'
I sat rooted to my chair, Brother, speechless at what Julian was relating.
'Several times I held back, and my courage had to be revived by Maximus, but still we pressed onward, until the demons began to gather strength, floating objects in midair, even throwing them at me. I challenged them, and they backed away hissing like serpents, and my courage rose. I couldn't drive them off entirely, for they were returning faster and more furiously as I advanced deeper into the cave — but I had overcome their power.
'But of course you did!' I cried, standing up triumphantly. 'How could you not, with Christ on your side?'
'Sit down!' he snapped at me, and I stopped short, startled by his vehemence. He glared at me a moment, and then continued.
'We finally reached the end, a tiny room cut directly into the solid rock, like a tomb — and indeed, in the far wall a narrow ledge had been cut, on which a long, white object lay. Maximus ordered a torch to flare, and it did so immediately of its own accord, and I could see by the light that the object was a young woman, wrapped in funeral vestments and lying as if dead. Perhaps, I thought, this was the source of the putrid odor that had been growing stronger as I advanced up the tunnel.
'Maximus pointed at her and issued a command in a strange and ancient language, and as I watched, the woman slowly rose from her ledge to a standing position and passed silently to the middle of the room, light and airy as if she were actually floating on a cushion of air. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, her hair plaited in the ancient style and her face lightly veiled. Her eyes were open and she was gazing at me. In her hands was a large bundle, the cornucopia, and this she extended straight out from her body and advanced slowly to me, walking on the ground but making no sound, bodiless as air, like a fleeting dream. Just before she reached me, the torch sputtered out and she faded from my sight, much to my agony, for by this time I was no longer frightened, but enchanted, and longed to touch and caress her.
'I needn't tell you, Caesarius, that this was the same vision I had seen on those nights in Gaul, though this was the very first time it had appeared to me. The woman, Rome's guardian spirit, has appeared to me many times since, both visibly and… invisibly. Though I never touch her, I speak to her often, and she is a source of great comfort to me.'
I was thunderstruck when I left his rooms that evening, struggling to focus on what he had told me, and the implications of it all. For thirty-five years the Empire had been a Christian one, or at least led by Christian emperors. During that time Christianity had experienced huge growth in its followers and in the numbers of churches dedicated to the worship of Christ, often through a reconsecration of temples to the pagan gods, the former sites of horrifying orgiastic festivals and sacrifices. Christ was winning the greatest battle for souls in history! Was Julian about to forfeit the victory before it could be counted? I was aghast at the lightness and ease with which he had cast aside his Christian convictions, even more appalled at the fact that this had happened so many years before and yet he had kept the secret for so long, from so many — from all, that is, until he had finally been proclaimed Emperor of all the lands that Rome ruled, and was now safe in the profession of any belief he chose.
II
For weeks I kept to myself except when absolutely needed, shocked at the implications of his conversion, and had not yet determined whether I could continue to serve an emperor who was no longer Christian. At least I had a choice in that regard; one does not, however, have the choice of living under a non-Christian emperor, when that emperor's dominions cover the entire known world. Word had spread quickly throughout the city of Julian's welcome of Maximus and his open apostasy, and the population was in an uproar, though a divided one. Bishops denounced him from the pulpit and Christian women openly wept as he passed in the streets, praying out loud for his salvation; but the city's pagans, who were still the vast majority, celebrated jubilantly and defiantly, and he was showered with invitations to attend the various celebrations of the ancient deities, and participate in the sacrifices, which he made every effort to do. He filled the gardens and rooms of the palace with statues and altars to the gods, to the point that they even resembled temples. Every morning he saluted the arrival of his titular deity, Helios the Sun, with the sacrifice of a white ox, and in the evening, at the moment the sun disappeared below the horizon, the blood of more victims was spilled. On days of public festivals the bloodletting was more extreme, involving sometimes dozens of bawling animals, and lasting throughout the entire morning until he had to be rushed from the altar by the eunuchs responsible for protocol, who washed him and changed his clothes in time for the more public ceremonies, when he received and rewarded his troops.
At these, as is traditional, his throne was encircled by the military ensigns of Rome and the republic. And while Christ's initials were surreptitiously removed from the labarum, the imperial standard which from Constantine's time had borne representations of those letters along with a crown and a cross, the symbols of pagan superstition were so cleverly embedded in the design and adornments of office that even a faithful Christian ran the risk of idolatry merely by respectfully saluting his sovereign. The soldiers passed before him in review, and each man, before receiving a generous donative from the hand of Julian himself, was required to cast a few grains of incense into the flame burning upon the altar. A few good Christians might refuse, or at the least confess and repent afterwards, but far greater numbers, attracted by the gold and awed by the emperor, entered into the diabolic contract. Since I myself refused even to view such atrocities, I found myself sadly contemplating a smaller role in Julian's inner circle — to his chagrin and wonder, as he could not imagine why I might be concerned with the religious beliefs of another, and to the evident pleasure of Maximus, who regarded me as a rustic interloper with a mere journeyman's education and culture. By now, the notion had formed in my mind of quitting Constantinople and finding my own path, yet I hesitated, thinking perhaps that Julian was merely passing through a phase, that he would return soon to his old self, and that I should not be too hasty in removing myself from his court.
Shortly after the new year, in an effort to combat the winter doldrums into which the city had fallen after the frenzy of the succession and the Christmas season, Julian determined to stage a series of games and combats in the circus. This prospect he at first looked upon with resignation, as a pastime unfitting for the mind of a philosopher. The entire time we were in Gaul he had never once attended the games, for in provincial cities such as Sens and Paris, in any case, only second-rate spectacles and gladiators would have performed. Even now, in the grandest city of the world, he was unsure whether they were worth his while. I reminded him of the danger of this attitude, for even the great Julius Caesar had once so offended the Roman people as to threaten a riot, when he demonstrated indifference by reading dispatches during the course of a race. Julian gradually warmed to the idea, however, and resolved to stage a three-day series of games, culminating in a gladiator battle that would be worthy of his accession to Constantius' throne.