To Love Again (25 page)

The city had been built on trade, and trade prospered there. Since it was set where the land routes from Asia and Europe met, Constantinople’s markets were filled with goods of all kinds. There was porcelain from Cathay, ivory from Africa, amber from the Baltic, precious stones of every kind found on the earth; silks, damask, aloes, balsam, cinnamon and ginger, sugar, musk, salt, oil, grains, wax, furs, wood, wines, and of course, slaves.

That afternoon, they traveled the length of the city to the Golden Gate, and then back along the Mese past the forums of Constantine and of Theodosius. They skirted the Hippodrome and moved on past the Great Palace. As they were carried by the great church of St. Erine, Jovian said, “I have not yet chosen a priest for you, Cailin. I must remember to do so.”

“Do not bother,” she told him. “I do not think I could be a Christian. It seems a difficult faith, I fear.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked her, curious.

“I have been speaking to your servants, and they tell me that to be a Christian you must forgive your enemies. I do not think I can forgive mine, Jovian. My enemy has cost me my family, my husband, and my child. I do not even know if that child was a son or a daughter. I have been taken from the land I love best, enslaved and generally terrorized. We Britons are a hardy race, which is probably why I have survived all of this, but I am angry, and I am embittered. Given the opportunity to take my revenge upon Antonia Porcius, I would gladly do so! I cannot forgive her for what she has done to me, or taken from me.”

“Your fate is now here,” Jovian told her quietly, and reaching out, he took her hand in his, squeezing it to comfort her.

Cailin’s violet eyes surveyed him calmly. “I have learned
to put my trust in no one, my lord. It is wiser, and I shall not be disappointed.”

How cold she is, he thought, wondering if her husband had ever been able to ignite passion in her. Yet she was exactly what he needed for his new entertainment: a perfect marble Venus. Beautiful. Untouchable. Icy. And heartless. She would be a sensation, and her performance would bring all of Constantinople to its knees in their admiration. “Tomorrow,” he said, “you will begin your training. You will be taught to do certain things that may at first frighten you or seem repugnant to you, but you can believe me, Cailin, when I tell you that I will not allow you to be injured in any way. In this one instance you may put your trust in me. I have too great an investment in you to allow you to come to harm, my dear. Oh, yes. You may trust Jovian Maxima, but no other.”

“You have an investment of four folles, my lord.” She laughed. “ ‘Tis hardly a great amount, as you yourself explained to me.”

“Ahh, but remember that having cleaned you up, I told you that your worth had increased to ten solidi. Once you are trained, your worth will be a hundred times that, Cailin.”

She was fascinated by what he was saying. She had absolutely no idea what her
training
was going to involve. She had no idea exactly what went on at Villa Maxima during those long evenings when the enticing noises from the main part of the villa teased at her sleepy ears. All she knew about brothels was that bodies were sold for a night’s pleasure. There was obviously a good deal more, if her instincts proved correct.

The next morning she was brought by the slave girl Isis to an interior room where Jovian awaited her with several others. All of them but Jovian, resplendent in a red and silver dalmatica, were naked. There was a beautiful dark-haired woman of Cailin’s height, and three tall young men with long golden locks. For a moment it was as if a hand had clutched at her heart, Cailin thought upon seeing them. Although there was nothing in the trio other than their size and coloring to remind her of Wulf, it was more than enough. For a moment
she was angry at Jovian, but then she realized he could not know, so she steeled herself for whatever was to come because it meant the first step along her road to freedom.

Yesterday, discussing her anger with Jovian, Cailin had suddenly known that what she desperately wanted was to return to Britain, no matter how far away it was or how difficult the journey. The realization of such a dream was impossible without gold and power behind her. She knew not if Wulf was dead or alive. Even if he lived, he might not want her back. But her father’s lands were hers,
and
there was that faceless, sexless child, too, who belonged to her. She wanted them back, and she wanted her revenge on Antonia Porcius. Only by becoming famous here in Constantinople did she have the slightest chance of returning to Britain and foiling Antonia’s evil scheme. In her innocence, Cailin vowed she would do whatever she had to do to attain her goal.

“This is Casia,” Jovian said, introducing the dark-haired woman. “She has been with us for two years and is most popular with the gentlemen. I have asked her to join us because she will demonstrate what I have in mind for you. Remove Cailin’s tunica for her, Isis, and then you may leave us.”

Cailin swallowed her apprehension at being nude before strangers. No one else was embarrassed. It was obviously a normal procedure in circumstances such as these. The obvious admiration for her in the blue eyes of the male trio was flattering. “Who are they?” she asked Jovian.

“Your fellow players,” he said smoothly, and then asked her, “How did you and your husband make love, my dear? The positions you assumed, I mean,” he further explained. Then he continued, answering his own question, “You lay upon your back, I surmise, and he rode you?”

Cailin nodded, swallowing silently. She was suddenly cold.

Casia put her arm about her. “Do not be frightened,” she said in kindly tones. “No one is going to hurt you, Cailin. You are really very fortunate to have been chosen by Jovian for this entertainment.”

“Surely you are not fearful?” Jovian fussed at her. “I told
you that in this one matter you could trust me. It is simply the unknown that distresses you. Very well then, let us demystify your fears. Your fellow players cannot speak, although they hear. I have decided to call them Apollo, Castor, and Pollux. The physician tells me you are healthy in all respects, and more than ready to receive a man’s homage. These three are to be your lovers.”

“They are slaves as I am,” Cailin said. “Where is the profit in that, my lord? How can I earn my freedom lying with slaves?”

Jovian chuckled. She might be afraid, but she had not lost sight of all he had told her. “Your lovemaking shall be an entertainment for our clients, Cailin. Twice weekly you four shall perform a playlet of my devising.” He then went on to explain what would be required of her: “I realize that you have never had a man enter through your temple of Sodom. That is why Casia is here today. It is a particular specialty of hers. If you see her carrying out this manner of lovemaking, you shall see there is nothing to be apprehensive about. Casia, take your position. Pollux and Castor, attend her. Now watch carefully, Cailin. You will be required to do what Casia does.”

Casia fell to her knees. Castor, standing before her, rubbed his male organ against her lips. Opening her mouth, she absorbed him before Cailin’s shocked eyes. She suckled strongly upon his manhood.

“She is arousing him by means of the sucking action, and by teasing his flesh with her tongue,” Jovian explained matter-of-factly. “See, he is already engorged with his lust. He’s an eager young fellow.”

Casia could no longer contain the Northman within her mouth. She positioned herself on her hands and knees. Castor moved behind her and knelt. Using his hand to guide himself, he pushed between the tight half-moons of her bottom. Casia groaned softly, and as she did, Pollux tipped her head up with one hand while offering the girl his manhood to entertain within her mouth. Grasping her hips in his big hands, Castor very slowly inserted himself within the kneeling Casia.
Then he began to pump her with equally slow, long, majestic strokes of his manhood.

“I cannot possibly do that,” Cailin protested.

“Of course you can, and you will not only do that, but more, my dear,” Jovian assured her. “You will note how careful he is with her. As filled with lust as he is, he is tender. He must be lest he damage her. He would forfeit his life if he did, and he knows it.” Jovian suddenly put an arm about Cailin, and drawing her next to him, he put a hand between her nether lips, to her shocked surprise. “Ahh, good, you are already moist with beginning desire, despite those maidenly protests you are going to make to me. Apollo, come here and sooth our little novice. Lay her on her back and give her a good fucking.”

Strangely, it was the gentle pity in Apollo’s eyes that hardened Cailin’s heart that day. She realized then that if she were not the mistress of this situation, the three brothers would bully her in their performance ever after. She lay down upon a mat placed on the marble floor and, spreading her legs wide, observed to Jovian, “He is as ready to couple as I am, my lord. His manhood is certainly a fine one, though I have seen bigger. Come, Apollo, and do our master’s bidding.”

She felt absolutely nothing as he reamed her vigorously. She was as cold as ice. Finally Casia, her own performance concluded, knelt by Cailin’s head and softly instructed her, “You must always let a man believe you are feeling passion such as you have never felt before, even when you are not. Thrash your head back and forth. Good! Now moan, and claw at his back.” She smiled up at Jovian as Cailin complied. “She is an apt pupil, my lord.”

I am dead, Cailin thought, and this is Hades. But it was not. For several weeks she was instructed in the erotic arts, and to her own surprise, she seemed to excel in them. Finally came the day when Cailin and the trio of young Northmen brought Jovian’s playlet fully to life before his delighted eyes. Two days later they performed a dress rehearsal before all the residents of Villa Maxima. Afterward both Cailin and Jovian
were congratulated, Jovian for his creative abilities and Cailin for her acrobatically inclined performance.

“Next week,” Jovian said enthusiastically. “We begin our performances next week. There is just enough time to let our special clients know that something extraordinary will be happening. Oh, my brother! We are going to be rich!”

The Virgin and the Barbarians
was an immediate success. Never had anything like it been seen in the history of Constantinople. It was all going exactly as Jovian had predicted it would. Phocas, in a rare show of excitement, could scarcely contain his glee over the thousands of gold solidi piling up in their strongbox. Twice weekly the playlet was performed before several hundred guests, each paying five gold solidi apiece to view the performance.

One night Jovian sought out his elder brother and told him excitedly, “The empress’s brother has come,
and
General Aspar with him! I have seated them in the first row for the best viewing. The gods! I knew I was right! I am going to start designing another playlet, Phocas.”

“I wonder if this is as fascinating as the rumors insist,” Prince Basilicus murmured to his companion. The prince was an elegant man with fair skin, black hair, and deep brown eyes. Cultured and educated, it was unusual to find him in such an atmosphere, particularly given his public piety and his circle of religious friends. “I am going to be sorry that I allowed you to drag me here tonight, Aspar.”

The general chuckled. “You are too serious, Basilicus.”

“And I should be more like you? A lover of plays and public spectacles, Aspar? If you weren’t the finest general the empire has ever seen, you would not be tolerated by the court.”

“If I were not the finest general the empire has ever seen,” Aspar said quietly, “your sister, Verina, would not be empress.”

The prince laughed. “It is true,” he admitted. “You made Leo emperor even as you chose Marcian before him. You
would be emperor yourself were it not for my friends in the church. They fear you, Aspar.”

“They are fools, then,” was the reply. “Thank God for my lack of orthodoxy, Basilicus. I should rather be an emperor-maker than an emperor. That is why your friends really fear me. They do not understand why I choose to be as I choose to be. Besides, times have changed. Byzantium needs a great general more than she needs a great emperor right now; and the days are long past when a single man could be both.”

“Your modesty touches me,” the prince said ironically. “My God! Is that Senator Romanus’s wife with that muscle-bound boy?
It is!”

Aspar chuckled. “We probably know half the people in this room, Basilicus. Look, over there. There is Bishop Andronicus, and just look whom he is with. It is Casia, one of the finest courtesans Villa Maxima has to offer. I have enjoyed several evenings in her company. She is a charming and a most talented girl. Would you like to meet her one day? I do not think I dare intrude upon the bishop tonight, however.”

The room was totally filled now. Naked young boys and girls began to move about, snuffing out the lamps until the room was in total darkness. Aspar smiled to himself, hearing the low moans and heavy breathing about him. Already some in the audience were taking advantage of the darkness to make love. Then the heavy curtain shielding the stage was drawn aside, revealing a second diaphanous curtain. The stage was very well lit, with lamps set along its rim and several others that hung down from the stage beams.

The sheer draperies were slowly drawn back to completely reveal a beautiful young woman seated at a loom. Her face was serene, but it was her charming, long auburn curls that Aspar found delightful. The girl was dressed in a modest white tunica; her slender feet were bare. She worked knowledgeably at the loom. Her very demeanor was of purity and innocence.

Soft music played in the background from unseen musicians setting the peaceful scene. The general gazed about him. Among the audience, lovers were beginning to become
quite entwined. Senator Romanus’s wife was seated facing the stage, upon her lover’s lap. Her gown was pulled well up, as was the tunic of the young man upon whom she sat. Their activity was obvious. Aspar smiled, amused, and turned back to the stage. The girl looked up from her weaving, and Aspar saw that her eyes held no expression at all. For a moment he wondered if she were blind, but he could see she was not. The vacant look touched him in a strange fashion. He realized he felt sorry for the beautiful young woman.