out over the conquered city from the window of his temporary palace. The smell of smoke drifted from the southern quarter of the city, where the fighting had been the most intense. Most of the fires were out, but some buildings near the harbor still sat smoldering in the late morning breeze. I love this city - even more than I love Rome. Now that it’s mine, I’m going to rebuild it into the most glorious city in the empire – in the world! It will be the jewel of my reign; I’ll make it my capital city. And I’ll rename it to a name befitting its role as my capital: Constantinople.
Constantine heard soldiers marching. Looking down to the street below, he saw that another one of his legions had arrived to strengthen the city garrison. Constantine returned the salute of the senior officer. Licinius managed to raise an army larger than mine, but only because he left the empire’s eastern border completely unguarded. I’ll have to move quickly to restore order. I can’t afford rebellion or invasion in my eastern provinces.
Constantine watched the legion march out of sight through the wisps of smoke that floated over the street. My legionnaires are the best in the world, but the empire’s too large to be held by legions alone. I need my legions to fight wars and protect my borders, not to police the provinces in case of rebellion. I need another way to keep the citizens in line. I need the church that Hosius promised me. I don’t believe in his god, but there’s nothing new about using religion as a tool of statecraft – it’s been done since the dawn of time. My legions can break armies, but religion is better suited to unite the hearts and minds of the people.
The wind shifted, blowing smoke into Constantine’s eyes. The Emperor turned away from the window and gestured for one of the ever-present servants to hand him a cup of wine. As he sipped it, he remembered when the legion he had just seen marching past his palace had opposed him in battle. It was twelve years earlier when he had fought against Maxentius near Milvian Bridge on the Tiber River. They had me outnumbered five to one on that day. I knew that I couldn’t win unless I had a way to shake their confidence. That’s when I decided to march into battle carrying crosses. Maxentius and his legions knew immediately what it meant; no quarter would be given. I even had my legionnaires paint crosses on their shields. Maxentius’ legions thought that I planned to crucify them all, and their spirit broke. Maxentius died trying to get away. And when I spared the lives of his surviving legionnaires, I turned enemies into loyal soldiers willing to follow me anywhere.
Constantine’s smile turned into a sneer as he took another sip of wine. Later, my old friend Hosius came to me and begged me to let him tell everyone that I’d had a vision of the Christ on the eve of battle – that the crosses were to honor my newfound faith, rather than to serve as a threat to my enemies. Then he convinced me to allow Christians to worship openly and freely throughout Rome and the provinces. And in return, he promised that I’d get a church that I could use to help me control the empire.
Well, I did my part, but where is my imperial church? Where is this religion that will serve my needs by controlling the people in ways that my legions can’t? Hosius can’t even get his churches to agree upon a single theology. How can they convert the empire to one religion when they can’t agree on what that religion is? I’m tired of waiting. Hosius may be my oldest friend, but I’m Emperor. It’s time for him to keep his end of the bargain.
Constantine shouted for the Captain of the Guard.
“You sent for me, My Emperor?” Imperial Guard Captain Titus Horatius Corvinus asked a few moments later when he arrived.
“Yes. Titus. Send two ships to Córdoba in Hispania and fetch Hosius, the Christian Bishop there. I need to see him. Bring him here.”
“Yes, My Emperor,” Titus acknowledged. He saluted and then left Constantine’s chamber to carry out his orders.
I want my church, and I don’t care what Hosius has to do to get it for me.
It was still several hours before dawn, and Athanasius couldn’t believe the activity going on all around him. He knew that Alexandria was one of the busiest ports in the southern provinces of the Roman Empire, but ships were being unloaded and loaded by torchlight at breakneck speed.
For two days straight, Athanasius had been waiting outside of the Imperial Harbor Official’s office to find out if there were any ships heading west that were still taking on passengers. He knew that there were no ships that could make the voyage all the way from Alexandria to Gades on the southwest coast of Hispania, so he searched for a ship heading to Carthago. From there, he could get a ship heading for Barcino in eastern Hispania. It would be easy to find a ship in Barcino that would take him to Gades. If all went well, he’d be in Córdoba in seventeen days… if only he could find passage on a ship heading from Alexandria to Carthago.
Athanasius was so busy watching the activity on the docks that he didn’t hear his name being called. The Chief Assistant to the Imperial Harbor Official raised his lantern and touched Athanasius’ shoulder to get his attention. “Athanasius? I’ve found you passage on a galley bound for Carthago. It’s loading now and will be sailing soon. Follow me.”
Athanasius grabbed the bag carrying his garments and supplies, checked to make sure that Alexander’s letters were still around his neck, and followed the harbor official into the crowd of dockworkers, merchants, and people also seeking passage on outbound ships.
When they reached the merchant galley heading for Carthago, the harbor official had to shout to be heard over the noise of ships being loaded and unloaded. He introduced Athanasius to the ship’s captain before disappearing back into the crowd. Athanasius paid the fare, and the captain escorted him to a small sleeping compartment near the rear of the ship. The compartment was just large enough to hold a cot and a bench, but Athanasius didn’t mind. I’m just glad to finally be on my way. He dropped his bag onto the floor and lay down on the cot, falling asleep immediately.
When he awoke, Athanasius heard the sound of oars rhythmically hitting the water. We must be at sea. I wonder how long we’ve been rowing west.
A short while later, he went up on the deck and watched the shore slip past in the distance. From the angle of the sun, he decided that it must be near mid-day. There were few clouds in the sky, and the breeze felt good against his face.
Sailors were busy working all around him, and Athanasius stayed out of their way. He heard a drum beat coming from beneath the deck, and he watched the oars moving to its cadence.
He looked around the deck and noticed a few other passengers also trying to stay out of the way of the busy sailors. Toward the front of the ship, the cook was preparing the midday meal. Feeling hungry, he made his way forward to see what kind of food the cook was serving.
The meal consisted of salted fish, a mix of leeks and beans, a small wedge of cheese, and a hunk of bread with a distinctive barley taste. Athanasius ate it gratefully. Then he returned to his compartment to meditate.
It took nine days to reach Carthago, and other than a rain shower on the fifth day, the weather had been perfect throughout the entire voyage. The galley entered Carthago’s harbor late in the afternoon. Hundreds of ships were anchored in the harbor, making it difficult to navigate through them. The smells of the harbor were pungent with spices and the sweat of the dockworkers. Athanasius disembarked as soon as the galley had been tied to the dock, and he immediately headed for the Imperial Harbor Official’s office to find passage on a ship heading for Barcino.
It only took a day to find a galley bound for Barcino that still had room for a passenger. The trade route between Carthago and Barcino was one of the busiest, and Athanasius managed to book passage on a much larger ship than the one from Alexandria. His compartment was the same size as the one on the ship from Alexandria, and the food was no better, but the voyage only lasted a couple of days, so Athanasius didn’t mind at all.
When he arrived in Barcino on the third morning of the voyage from Carthago, he quickly managed to arrange passage on a ship for Gades that would be leaving the next day before dawn.
It had been a long time since Athanasius had seen the southern coast of Hispania, and he spent most of the voyage on deck watching the coastline. I remember