To Love Again (42 page)

“How old are you?” Cailin asked her.

“But a year your senior,” Casia replied.

Cailin was surprised. Casia seemed older, but then of course she would. While I was playing with my dolls, Cailin thought, Casia was learning her lessons in a brothel. “How long will you keep the prince as a lover?” she asked her
friend. “I mean … well … you are used to a variety of lovers. Does not having just one bore you?”

Casia laughed. Had the question come from anyone else, she would have been offended, but she knew Cailin meant no offense by it, that she was only curious. “One lover at a time, my friend, is really quite enough,” she replied. “As for your other question, I will remain with Basilicus as long as it pleases us both. He and I will never marry as you and Aspar will. I am no patrician like you, Cailin Drusus.”

“Being a patrician has not protected me from evil,” Cailin said quietly. “Still, though I once complained that fortune did not smile upon me, I was wrong. I may have lost my husband and child, but I have been given Aspar to love. Ohh, Casia! He wants children, and at his age!”

Casia shuddered delicately. “Better you, dear friend, than me,” she said. “I am not the maternal sort, I fear. Fortunately my prince is content with his wife’s efforts at producing offspring—when they are his own.”

They came up from the beach and sat by the fish pond in the atrium, sipping sweet wine and indulging themselves with honey cakes that Zeno’s wife, Anna, had made them.

“The city,” Casia said, “is agog with excitement over the games that Justin Gabras is sponsoring at the Hippodrome in a few days. He’s brought in gladiators for death matches. I can hardly wait!”

“Arcadius told me,” Cailin responded. “I am glad I do not have to see such a thing. I think it’s horrible!”

“Not really,” Casia replied. “You would get used to it. Good gladiators are magnificent to watch, but they are a rare breed now. The church does not approve of them, but I will bet the patriarch and his minions will all be there in their box howling with the same blood lust as the rest of us.” She laughed. “They are such hypocrites! I am sorry you are not going. I shall have to sit in the stands, then, but I would not miss these matches for the world.

“The Saxon is fighting. He has never, they say, lost a match. He seems to have no fear of death, and his other appetites are equally insatiable, I am told.”

Casia stayed at Villa Mare for three days. The day before she left, Arcadius arrived with a wagon in which sat the pedestal for the young Venus and several beefy helpers who were to move the statue from the studio to its place in the garden. The two young women watched, fascinated, as the work was carried out, hard pressed not to laugh at the sculptor who fussed and fumed at the workmen as they went about their task. Finally the young Venus was settled upon her pink and white marble base, angled so that she was facing the sea. Arcadius heaved a great sigh of relief. “Well?” he demanded. “What think you?”

Casia was visibly impressed, and said so. Cailin simply kissed the sculptor on the cheek, causing him to flush with pleasure.

“It is marvelous,” he agreed with them.

“Stay with us tonight,” Cailin said.

“Yes,” Casia echoed. “You can return to the city in the morning in my litter with me, Arcadius. ‘Twill be a far nicer trip than if you ride back in the wagon with your workmen, who smell of onions and sweat.”

Arcadius shuddered at her rather graphic but accurate description. “I will remain,” he said, and instructed his foreman to take the men and return to Constantinople. Then turning to the women, he told them, “The gladiators arrived yesterday. They paraded through the city in full regalia, as if that were necessary to stimulate interest in the games. The populace is in a frenzy already. I cannot tell you how many women fainted at the sight of the champion. He is frankly the most magnificent piece of male flesh I have ever seen. It would be a pity if he were killed, but then, he has prevailed so far.”

Casia and Arcadius, city people to the bone, chattered on throughout the evening, filling Cailin’s ears with all manner of gossip. Though it was amusing, she was frankly relieved to be able to seek her quiet bed that night and to bid her guests farewell in the morning. She wondered if she would indeed have to involve herself in the affairs of the court once she and Aspar were married. Perhaps Arcadius was wrong.

In the afternoon, Cailin swam in the still warm sea, and lay naked on the beach, drying in the autumn sun. The peace was wonderful, and she reveled in it. She fell asleep, and when she awoke, she was filled with new energy and was suddenly eager to have Aspar home.

Chapter 13

A
spar returned to Villa Mare late the next evening and immediately took Cailin to bed. In the early morning, when they had sated themselves of their desire for each other, they lay talking.

“I arrived in Constantinople yesterday afternoon,” he told her, “and reported immediately to Leo. The difficulties in Adrianople have been overcome. There is peace in that city once more, although for how long, I cannot say. I have little patience with those who argue over creed and clan. What fools they are!”

“They
are most of the world,” Cailin said, “but I agree with you, my love. Most people like to think life a deep and difficult puzzle, but it is not, I believe. We are bound by one thread—our humanity. If we would but put our differences aside, and weave the cloth of our fate with that one thread, there would be no more differences between us.”

“You are too young to be so wise,” he teased her, kissing her lightly, and then he said, “Would you like to know my reward for this recent service to Byzantium?” He smiled into her face, his brown eyes twinkling mischievously at her.

Cailin’s heart began to race. She didn’t even dare to voice the question. She simply nodded.

“You are to be baptized on November first by the patriarch himself in the private chapel of the imperial palace,” Aspar told her. “Then the patriarch will marry us. Leo and Verina will stand as our formal witnesses. You will have to choose a Byzantine name, of course.”

She gasped. It was true, then. “Anna-Marie,” she managed to say. “Anna for your good wife who was the mother of your children, and Marie for the mother of Jesus.”

“You have chosen well,” he said. “No one can help but approve, but I will never call you anything but Cailin, my love. To the world you will be Anna-Marie, the wife of Flavius Aspar, but it is Cailin with whom I fell in love, and will continue to love for all time.”

“I cannot believe that the emperor and the patriarch have at last given their consent,” Cailin told him, her eyes wet with tears.

“Neither of them are fools, my love,” Aspar told her. “Your introduction into Byzantine society could hardly be called a conventional one,” he said with a small smile, “yet both Leo and the church know your behavior since I bought and freed you has been far more circumspect than most of the women at court, especially in light of the current scandal surrounding Basilicus’s wife, Eudoxia. As for me, I have given my life for Byzantium, and if in my later years I cannot have what I so deeply desire, what further use will I be to the empire?”

“Did you tell them that?” Cailin asked, surprised that he would have lowered his guard so greatly before the emperor and the patriarch.

“Aye, I did,” Aspar admitted, and then chuckled. “The threat was merely implied, my love. I hold a great advantage over the emperor in that there is no other soldier of my standing who can lead the armies of the empire. If I were to retire from public life.…” He smiled at her again. “I left it to their imaginations. It did not take long for Leo to decide, and he argued the patriarch into acquiescence most convincingly. The emperor has recently learned the value of a loyal and virtuous wife.

“Then having gained my heart’s desire, I was forced to sit through a banquet, which is why I was so late in arriving last night. Did you miss me greatly, my love?”

“I missed you terribly,” she flattered him, “but I was not too lonely. Arcadius finished the statue. It now stands in the
garden, my wedding gift to you, Aspar. He has also counseled me most wisely on the court. I shall remain a party to no faction, I promise you.”

“Do you want to go to court?” he asked, surprised.

“Not really,” Cailin told him. “Arcadius says it is my duty once I am the wife of the First Patrician of the empire, but I would far prefer to remain here in the country.”

“Then you shall,” he told her. “Arcadius is just an old gossip. You will, of course, be expected to appear at state functions where I am required to be but, otherwise, if you choose to live a quiet life, you most certainly may. I shall give you children to raise, and my care will naturally be foremost in your duties. Your days will be most full,” he teased her gently, running his hand across her shoulder.

“I want to raise chariot horses,” she told him. “We have spoken of it before.”

“I offer you children to raise, and you ask for horses!” He pretended to be offended, but Cailin knew better.

Pushing him back amid the pillows, she kissed him, sliding her hands across his hard chest. “I am a clever woman, my lord. I can raise both your children, and your horses. The Celts have a way with horses.”

“You are a shameless wench to wheedle me so,” he said, rolling her beneath him, then sheathing his hardness within her soft body. “How many stallions will you need?” he demanded, moving subtly upon her, pleased to see the look on her face turning to one of passion.
How he had missed her!

“I but need this stallion, my sweet lord,” she told him, molding her body tightly to his as he stoked her pleasure, “but two champions should do for the herd of mares we will assemble.
Ohhhhhh
!” The gods!
She had missed him more than she realized!

He ceased his movements and lay easily atop her, his hands carressing the sweet small melons of her breasts. He wanted to prolong this interlude. From the first moment he had taken her, he felt like a young man again. The feeling had never diminished in the months that they were together. With Anna there was respect. With Flacilla there was nothing. But
Cailin! With Cailin he had found everything! He had never even dreamed that such love between two people was possible, yet here it was. “You are certain you want to do this?” he asked her. “You have seen the chariot races but once.”

He throbbed within her, making it almost impossible for her to concentrate on anything else. Her breasts ached with sweetness beneath his tender touch. “I am surprised no one thought of it before,” she managed to say. “It is such a logical plan.
Ohh, my love, you are driving me wild
!”

“Surely no wilder than you are driving me,” he ground out, and then, unable to contain himself any longer, he bent forward, taking her lips, and thrust with deliberate ferocity into her softness until they both attained their mutual release.

When Aspar was capable of speech once more, he told her, “We will go to the autumn games. Observe the races again, and then if you still desire it, we will make preparations to raise chariot horses.”

“But Flacilla’s new husband is sponsoring those games,” Cailin said, surprised. “Should we be seen there?”

“All of Constantinople will be there,” Aspar told her, “including all of Flacilla’s former lovers, you may be certain. Flacilla and Justin Gabras will sit in the imperial box with Leo and Verina. At least we will not be subjected to them, my love.”

“May I ask Casia? She was disappointed that I was not going to these games, and said she would be forced to sit in the stands with the plebes. I will not desert her because I am to be your wife.”

“I would be disappointed in you if you did,” he answered. “Yes, you may invite Casia. There will be gossip, but I care not.”

“I do not want to see the gladiatorial matches,” Cailin told him. “Casia says that they are death matches. I could not bear to see some poor man die because he was not as quick or skilled as his opponent. I think it cruel of Flacilla’s husband to require blood.”

“Blood pleases the plebes,” Aspar said matter-of-factly. “Watch one match, Cailin. You may not be as horrified as you
think you will be. If you are truly displeased by it, then you may leave, but it must be done discreetly, my love. We cannot insult our despicable host.”

Cailin sent a messenger to Casia that morning, inviting her to join them in their box on the morrow, when the games would officially begin. Casia’s reply was a delighted acceptance.

The following day Cailin was up early, for the games would begin at nine o’clock of the morning, the races lasting until noon. She had prepared her costume carefully. Her stola, with its round, low neckline and long, tight sleeves, was of the finest, softest white linen. The lower third of the sleeves, and the wide hemline, as well as a broad stripe extending halfway up the skirt, were woven in pure gold and emerald-green silk threads. The stola was belted tightly at the waist with a wide belt of leather layered with beaten gold, and decorated with emeralds that matched the gold and emerald collar about her neck and her elaborate pendant earrings. Because of the time of year, Cailin had known she would need some sort of outer garment, but she did not want to cover her costume. She had cut a semicircular cloak of bright green silk, which she fastened on her right shoulder with a fibula made from a single oval-shaped emerald set in gold. Gold kid slippers shod her feet, and her costume was nicely completed by a jeweled silken band about her head, from which hung a sheer golden veil.