The Vellum Scribe: Argolicus Mysteries
By Zara Altair
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About this ebook
Mystery in History
A Childhood Friend. An Overbearing Father. A Worldly Bishop.
Argolicus unravels the threads.
In ancient Italy where religion and politics mesh, patrician Argolicus can't resist when his friend is murdered.
When his childhood friend is brutally murdered, old wounds open as his friend's powerful father forbids him to dig deeper. Argolicus finds himself trapped in old conflicts while new enemies try to stop him at any cost. As the tension builds, he pledges to find the killer. But then, his mother makes a counter pledge that plunges him in a dilemma. A word given is trust, and now he's caught in a double bind that drives him toward the killer. Tempers flare and everything seems hopeless until the vellum scribe shares his wisdom. With death threats looming, Argolicus has one chance to find the killer.
The Vellum Scribe is the fourth book in the Argolicus mysteries set in Ostrogoth Italy. If you like a puzzling mystery and rich historical detail, you'll love The Vellum Scribe.
Buy The Vellum Scribe now to solve the puzzle today!
Zara Altair
Enter An Ancient World Zara Altair combines mystery with a bit of adventure in the Argolicus Mysteries in southern Italy at the time of Ostrogoth rule. Italians (Romans) and Goths live under one king while the Roman Empire is ruled from Constantinople. At times the cultures clash, but Argolicus uses his wit, sometimes with help from his tutor Nikolaos, to provide justice in a province far from the King’s court. Zara Altair lives in Beaverton, Oregon. Her approach to writing presents the puzzle and lets Argolicus and Nikolaos find the solution encountering a bit of adventure and some humor in their search. Her stories are rich in historical detail based on years of research.
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The Vellum Scribe - Zara Altair
Praise for Zara Altair
A cracking yarn that wears its deep research lightly...
— CLARISSA PALMER
Leaves you wanting more!
— DAVID AMERLAND, AUTHOR
This series would make an excellent show!
— JOE MCGAHA, WRITER/PRODUCER
The Vellum Scribe
An Argolicus Mystery
Zara Altair
Fervent Crux PressContents
Introduction
Arrival
The Body and the Soul
Family Treasure
Strategy Without a Plan
Mattheus at the Door
The Bishop’s Collection
The Maria Quandary
At Bartholomaeus’ Door
Meadow Crossing
Painting a New Picture
Palace Order
Glossary
Afterword
Author Note
About the Author
Also By Zara Altair
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Zara Altair All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 978-1-7327225-0-7
Introduction
Thank you for reading The Vellum Scribe.
Join the Fans of Argolicus. Get a free Argolicus book. And, I’ll send you personal updates about the Argolicus Mysteries.
Ostrogoth is a term created by historians centuries after the reign of Theoderic. They referred to themselves as The People. Their language was Our Language. Their church, Arian in nature and established before the Council of Nicea, was Our Church.
At the time of the story, monks both Arian and Trinitarian either lived alone or in loose communities based on the tradition of the Desert Fathers like Anthony. At this time, Benedict lived alone in a cave following that tradition. He had yet to form his monastery or create his Rules. Of course, his connection with Lucas comes from my imagination.
Modern readers should understand that religion and politics were intertwined. Feelings ran high about the nature of Christ and colored daily activities and interactions in a way it’s difficult to comprehend today.
The Henotikon was a document issued by the Emperor Zeno in 491 C.E. in an attempt to unify the various sects (heresies) of the Christian church. It caused a schism between East and West and was not settled until 519 C.E. seven years after the time of this story.
To the Trinitarian Church in Constantinople, Argolicus and his uncle, Wiliarit, were heretics.
Enter the world of Argolicus
With few exceptions, the western world was at peace in the year 512 after Christ’s birth. Warlords were plotting in the Balkans either for the East or the West, but mainly for their own power. Rumblings in Persian borderlands perhaps threatened the Roman Empire as seated in Constantinople. The most recent disturbances—betrayals, if you will—of the Frankish kingdoms had been settled some five years. Bishops and clergy squabbled over textual interpretations of the Gospel, patristic writings, or Patriarchal proclamations, as usual, some in a huff, others with conciliatory leanings. Vandals had controlled northern Africa for almost 100 years. The Visigoths ruled Spain and traded with avarice. In Italy, affairs of concern were mainly internal—the parallel Roman law and Ostrogoth legal systems ran under the regal Edicts guided by a sense of civility, providing structure for dispute resolution.
CHAPTER 1
ARRIVAL
The patrician, Argolicus, dropped his practice sword when he heard his mother cry out. He ran from the courtyard to villa’s front, followed by his sparring partner and tutor slave, Nikolaos.
A cart stood in front of the villa at the end of the road that came up from the town of Squillace. The Ionian sea shone blue in the early morning March sun. The carter unloaded several wooden boxes, carefully placing each one on the ground. Argolicus heard his mother laugh and saw her long blond braid covered by thick arms. A large man in a plain brown robe held her close in a tremendous hug and then pushed her away.
Uncle,
Argolicus cried in Their Language. His face broke out in a spontaneous smile.
The big man turned. Argolicus. The Father and the Son together!
Worship and glorify,
Argolicus responded. Uncle Wiliarit, where have you been this time?
He embraced his uncle, who reciprocated in a hearty hug, squeezing him into the large chest.
Wiliarit continued in the language of The People, I’ve been in Constantinople working on a commission. But now I’m here to finish, and I’m hoping Nikolaos will help.
Nikolaos heard his name and came closer, still clutching his practice sword. Besides keeping Argolicus in practice with arms, he was an excellent grammarian and had taught Argolicus Greek since childhood. But, his language skills stopped at the tongue of King Theoderic and his people.
Nikolaos?
Argolicus replied.
Yes, it’s a medical reference book. He knows much about plants and herbs. I’m hoping he can point out some live specimens for illustrations. What I have now as a source are drawings in another manuscript. I want this one to be as excellent as possible. It is quite a large commission.
* * *
Argolicus put down his pen and knife and looked up from his calligraphy of The People’s language when he heard Nikolaos calling his name outside the villa. Wiliarit, his uncle, had chastised his nephew for not practicing writing and had set him to calligraphy with the language of The People—the king’s People, Wiliarit’s People, his mother’s People, his People. He glanced down at his work and frowned at his lack of skill. Wiliarit was right. Neglect was obvious.
But now, Nikolaos was closer, and his calls were urgent. Master! Master!
He arrived panting in the study.
What is it? I thought you were looking for flowers.
Argolicus said, standing up from his table.
We are. We were. But down in the Angel’s Meadow, there’s a body. Come.
Now, his tutor was out of breath.
A body? Do you mean someone is dead? A dead body?
Argolicus shook his head.
Yes, yes, a very dead body. His face is blue. The skin…
His face distorted as he searched for words and then gave up. You must come and see.
Argolicus nodded, reached for his cloak on a chair, shouldered it against the cool late March air, and followed Nikolaos along a maze of animal trails over a hill to a verdant meadow. Here and there, wildflower colors - yellow, purple, blue, red - protruded among the green of early grasses.
Wiliarit stood in his dark brown robe in the middle of the meadow, ignoring his unopened box of paints and vellum sheets beside him.