Read Online The Chiron Confession (Dominium Dei) by Thomas Greanias - Free Book Online Page A

obvious the chief prosecutor knows his case has feet of clay, or he would not have attempted to bring the twin charges of atheism and conspiracy against the accused. If he were confident in one, he would not have brought the other. So he brought them both. But Regulus cannot prove the accused is a Christian after the accused dramatically testified publicly that he is not, surely obliterating any support from that underground if he ever had it. And he cannot prove the wild speculation that the accused is Chiron beyond the testimony of a dead man, which should not even be admissible. As it is, Regulus has neither leg to stand on. So we rest our defense before Your Humanitas and throw ourselves before the mercy of the judgment seat of Caesar.”
    Domitian rose to his feet and stepped down from his throne to render his final judgment. Each footstep sounded more ominous the closer he came. As he stood before Athanasius, Domitian grasped his chains and looked at him as he would if forced to put down his hound Sirius. The balding head beneath the wig, the weak eyes, the cruel smile—he was a piece of human excrement and seemed to know it.
    “Your final word, Athanasius?” Domitian asked. “What say you?”
    “There are no gods in heaven—nor on earth,” Athanasius told Domitian for all to hear. “You are no god, and I am no Chiron. There are no well-devised conspiracies by masterminds on earth. There are only men, and most of them are fools.”
    Athanasius could see the fury in Domitian’s eyes, mixed with fear.
    “We despise those who despise our laws and religion,” Domitian announced. “But let us show mercy on the man Athanasius himself. Let us not fight the conspiracy of those cowards who hide in the shadows and carry out justice in the dark of night. Let us deal with this justly in the light of day.”
    Athanasius braced himself. It was common knowledge that Domitian’s rehearsed preamble about mercy was an omen that foreshadowed his most ruthless sentences.
    “Therefore, we will not allow this man to die by crucifixion or old-style execution upon the Gemonian Stairs.”
    Athanasius breathed a momentary sigh of relief. In an old-style execution, the condemned man was stripped, his head fastened to a wooden fork and he was flogged to death. It was a long, drawn-out ordeal. Perhaps Domitian would only exile him. There would still be a chance for him and Helena. There would still be hope for his life.
    “Rather,” Domitian continued, “allow him to die with dignity. Allow Athanasius to die in the arena. Allow him to die for our pleasure and as a warning to others who would defy our ways.”
    Athanasius felt ill in the pit of his stomach. His head started spinning. “No, your excellency,” he said with shortness of breath. “No.”
    “He shall die tomorrow morning,” Domitian announced. “After a night in the Tullianum prison.”
    Well, that was that. Only those sent to die went to the Tullianum, and he had never heard of a last-minute reprieve.
    “Furthermore,” Domitian said, raising his right hand in divine retribution. “Your Lord and God decrees that all inscriptions referring to Athanasius of Athens must be effaced, and productions of his work cease immediately from any public venue, and all copies of his plays be removed from every library throughout the empire and burned. May his memory be erased from our generation, and may the next never know the name of Athanasius of Athens.”
    “No!” Maximus cried out and rushed to Domitian, falling to his knees. It was a spectacle that Athanasius knew only put the senator’s own life in jeopardy. “Mercy, Your Humanitas! Mercy!”
    “Caesar shall show his mercy to the people of Rome by condemning to death the treacherous Chiron of Dominium Dei, who calls himself Athanasius of Athens.”
    Athanasius glared at Domitian as the Praetorian moved in to take him away. If he was indeed lost, Athanasius decided to make the most of it while he still had a voice,