To Love Again (27 page)

“Thank you, Casia,” Cailin exclaimed. “I have never had lovelier earrings than these; and thank you for the rest.”

“Be yourself, and you will succeed admirably with him,” Casia promised.

“I will call on you soon,” Jovian told Cailin brightly, and helped her into the litter. “Take Casia’s advice.
She knows.”

Cailin felt a momentary panic as the litter was lifted and the bearers moved off through the gates of Villa Maxima. Once again she was facing the unknown. It seemed so odd after the quiet life she had lived in Britain that within the space of two years her fate had taken such twists and turns. Cailin leaned back and closed her eyes as they hurried through the city. At the Golden Gate the litter stopped in the line of traffic waiting to be passed through. She heard a rough voice say, “And what have we here?”

“This woman belongs to General Aspar, and is going to Villa Mare,” came the curt reply.

“I’ll just have a look,” the voice answered, and the litter’s diaphanous draperies were yanked aside.

Cailin stared coldly at the soldier peering in.

The draperies fell back.
“She
belongs to old Aspar?” the guard at the gate said, whistling admiringly. “What a beauty! Pass on!”

The litter was picked up again, and moved forward. Cailin peeped between the draperies after a while. The road stretched across a flat, fertile plain with wheat fields, orchards,
and olive groves along both sides. Beyond lay the sea. She could not see it, but she could smell it, the sharp, pungent tang of the salt air tickling her nose. She was beginning to feel better. The sea was a means of escape, and now that she was free of Villa Maxima, she would never again have to degrade herself as she had the last five weeks.

They moved along at a smooth pace, and then she felt the bearers slowing, turning. Peeking out again, she saw they had passed through an iron gate and were going down a tree-lined lane. She was in the country again, she thought, relieved to be free of the noise and stink of Constantinople. The bearers stopped and the litter was set down again. The curtains were drawn aside and a hand extended to her. Cailin stepped out to discover the hand belonged to an elderly white-haired man of small stature.

“Good day, lady. I am Zeno, the majordomo at Villa Mare. The general has bid me welcome you. This is your home, and we are all at your command.” He bowed politely, his worn face breaking into a friendly smile.

“Where is your master, Zeno?” she asked him.

“I have not seen the general in several months, lady. He sent a messenger early this morning with his orders for you,” Zeno replied.

“Is he expected soon?” Cailin asked. This was odd.

“He has not informed me so, lady,” Zeno told her. “Come in now and take some refreshment. The day is growing warm, and the sun is very hot for late June. The city, I can but imagine, was a tinderbox.”

Cailin followed after him. “I do not like the city,” she said. “The noise and the dirt are appalling.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “I have served the general for many years, but when he offered to make me his majordomo at Villa Mare, I kissed his feet in gratitude. The older I get, the less tolerance I seem to have, lady. You are not a citizen of Byzantium?”

“I am a Briton,” Cailin told him, and accepted a goblet of chilled wine from a smiling servant.

“It is a very savage and barbaric land, I am told,” Zeno said with utmost seriousness. “It is said the people are blue in color, but you are not blue, lady. Am I mistaken, then?”

Cailin couldn’t refrain from one little giggle, but she quickly soothed the majordomo’s feelings by telling him, “In ancient times the warriors among my people painted themselves blue when they went into battle, Zeno, but we are not blue-skinned by nature.”

“I can see that, lady, but why did they paint themselves blue?”

“Our warriors believed that although the enemy might kill them and strip them of their possessions, as long as they were painted blue, their honor and their dignity could not be taken from them,” Cailin explained to him. “Britain is not a savage land. We have been part of the empire for over four hundred years, Zeno. My own family descended from a Roman tribune who came there with Emperor Claudius.”

“I can see I have a great deal to learn about the Britons, lady. I hope you will share your knowledge with me. I greatly value knowledge,” Zeno said.

During the next few days Cailin explored her new surroundings. Villa Mare was very much like her home in Britain had been, a simple but very comfortable country villa. The atrium had a dear little square fish pond, and she enjoyed sitting there in the heat of the day when the outdoors was not particularly comfortable. Her bedchamber was large and airy. There were no more than half a dozen servants, all older. It was obvious to Cailin that General Aspar sent those slaves he wished to semiretire to the Villa Mare, where they would have a simpler and easier time of it. It seemed a kind act, and she grew more curious about the man who had rescued her from Villa Maxima, but he was not, it seemed, expected by his household at any time soon. It was as if he were deliberately leaving her in peace to recover from the ordeal she had suffered these last months. If this was indeed fact, Cailin appreciated it.

Zeno was fascinated by her stories of Britain. He had
never, it seemed, been anywhere in his entire life but Constantinople and the surrounding countryside. Cailin was surprised to find he was a very cultured man despite his status. He could both read and write Latin and Greek as well as keep accounts. He had, he explained, been raised with the son of a noble of the court of Theodosius II, and had come into General Aspar’s household when his master had died deeply in debt; then he, along with the other slaves of the household, were sold.

“You were not born a slave, my lady Cailin,” Zeno said.

“No,” she told him. “I was betrayed by a woman I believed a friend. A year ago at this time I was in Britain, a wife, an expectant mother. If I had been told that this would be my fate, I should have never believed it, Zeno.” She smiled softly, almost to herself. “I will go home one day, and I will revenge myself on that woman. I swear it!”

It was obvious to him that she was of the upper class, but because Zeno had been born a slave, the son and grandson of slaves, he did not inquire further. It would have been a presumption on his part, and he could not, despite his curiosity, change the habits of a lifetime. It did not matter that she was also a slave. She was a slave who had been born a patrician. She was his better, no matter her youth.

“Tell me of your master?” Cailin asked him.

“You do not know him?” Zeno said. This was interesting.

“I do not even know what he looks like,” Cailin admitted candidly. “The master of the house in which I served came to me one morning and told me that I had been seen and admired by General Aspar, who had bought me from him. I was then sent here. I find it all quite strange.”

Zeno smiled. “No,” he said, “it is the kind of thing he would do, my lady. We who have been with him for so long know his kind heart, although it is not his public reputation. He would be, should be, emperor of Byzantium, my lady, but instead he has placed Leo on the throne.”

“Why?” she asked, curious. She motioned Zeno to sit with her by the atrium pond, encouraging him to continue.

“He descends from the Alans, my lady. They were once a pastoral, nomadic clan living beyond the Black Sea. The Alans were driven from their homeland by the Huns, a fierce, warlike tribe who until recently were ruled by an animal called Attila. Although the general is a Christian, he is an Arian Christian. Whereas the Orthodox Christians believe that their Holy Trinity, consisting of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are one in three, and three in one, the Arians believe that the Son is a different being from the God Father, and subordinate to him.

“They argue back and forth over doctrine. Although some of our emperors are intrigued by the Arians, the Orthodox church holds sway in Byzantium. They will not allow an openly Arian Christian to be crowned emperor. The bishops respect General Aspar, and they know there is no finer military man alive; but they would not allow him to be emperor. I honestly do not think he wants to be emperor, my lady. The emperor is never a free man. Much of the general’s heritage remains in him, I believe. He would rather be a free man than a king.”

“Does he have a wife, Zeno? Or children?” Cailin wondered.

“For many years the general was wed to a good woman of Byzantium, the lady Anna. In the first year of their marriage they had a son, Ardiburius, and then later a daughter, Sophia. Nine years ago the lady Anna, after many years of barrenness, bore our master a second son, Patricius. The birth weakened her. She remained an invalid until her death three years ago. Villa Mare was bought for her pleasure because it was thought the sea air would be salubrious for her.

“We thought the general would remain a bachelor, but last year he married again. It is a political alliance, however. The lady Flacilla is a widow with two married daughters. She does not even live in our master’s house in the city, but remains in the home she has had for many years. She is a woman of the court with powerful connections, but I fear she is a poor companion for the general. He is lonely.”

“The trouble with old and valued servants,” came a deep
voice, “is that they know far too much about one, and are given to idle chatter.”

Zeno leapt up and, kneeling before the man who had entered the atrium, kissed the hem of his cloak. “Forgive an old fool, my lord,” he said, and then, “Why did you not send word you were coming?”

“Because this house is always in perfect order to receive me, Zeno,” Aspar said, helping the old man to his feet. “Now, go and bring me some chilled wine, the Cyprian wine, for I have had a long, hot ride.” Having dismissed the servant, he turned to Cailin. “You are well-rested?” he asked politely.

“Thank you, my lord.” She tried not to stare.

“Zeno has made you comfortable?” he said. God, she is beautiful, he thought. He had bought her on a whim, out of pity, but now he realized perhaps he had not been foolish after all. It had been a long time since any woman had made his heart race and his loins stir with desire.

“I have been treated with nothing but kindness, my lord,” Cailin told him softly. He is a very attractive man, she considered, realizing the place she would occupy in this house from his look. “Here, let me take your cloak,” she said, unfastening the diamond button of the garment and laying it aside. He stood just two or three inches taller than she was. He was not nearly as tall as Wulf or the trio of Northmen had been, but his body had a solid, almost square look to it. He was obviously a general who kept himself in as good condition as his own men were required to keep themselves.

“What is the fragrance you are wearing?” he asked her. It was intoxicating him with its elusiveness.

“I wear no fragrance, my lord, but I do bathe daily,” Cailin told him nervously, stepping away from him. “It is probably the scent of the soap that lingers on my skin.”

“We will bathe together after I have had my wine. The ride was hot, and the city even hotter. Do you like it here by the sea?”

“I was raised in the country, my lord, and lived there until I came to Constantinople. I prefer it to the city.” She answered him calmly, but her heart was thundering in her ears.
We will bathe together
. If there had been any doubt in her mind as to what position she was to hold in his life before, there was certainly none any longer.

Zeno returned with the wine, and Aspar sat down on the marble bench by the fish pond, sipping the cool beverage slowly and with obvious appreciation. Cailin stood silently by his side watching him. His hair was deep brown, sprinkled with bits of silver. It was cut short and brushed away from the crown of his head. It was a practical style for a military man. The hand holding the goblet was large and square, the fingers long and powerful-looking. There was a big gold ring upon his middle finger. The ruby in it was cut to resemble a double-headed eagle, the symbol of Byzantium.

He felt her stare and looked up suddenly. Cailin blushed, caught at her scrutiny. He smiled. It was a quick, mischievous smile like that of a small boy. His teeth were white and even, and the eyes that twinkled at her a silvery gray. The lines about his eyes that crinkled with amusement told her that he smiled easily. “I think my nose too big. What do you think, Cailin?” He smiled again, and her knees went just a trifle weak. He wasn’t quite handsome, but there was something about him.

“I think your nose very nice, my lord,” she replied.

“The nostrils flare a bit too much,” he told her. “Now my mouth is very well-proportioned, neither too big nor too little. Our friend, Jovian, has a cupid’s bow of a mouth, quite unsuitable for a man, don’t you think? It was probably charming when he was a child.”

“Jovian is still a bit of a child,” Cailin observed.

Aspar chuckled. “So there is a keen eye, and, I suspect, an intellect to go with that beautiful face and form.”

“I was not aware that my face was particularly visible when you saw me last, my lord, and my form was quite contorted, or so it felt,” Cailin said humorously. Then she grew serious. “Why did you buy me, my lord? Is it your habit to purchase inmates of brothels?”

“I thought you the bravest woman I had ever seen,” Aspar told her. “You were struggling to survive at Villa Maxima. I
saw it in the blank stare you favored the audience with, and the stoic way in which you accepted the degradation visited upon you in that obscene playlet of Jovian’s.

“The empire that rules the world, or at least most of it, is governed by those same deviates who found your shame entertaining. I am a member of that ruling class, but I find those people more frightening than any danger I have ever faced in battle. When I impulsively purchased you from Jovian—who by the way would not have dared to refuse my request—I was doing so because I felt your bravery should be rewarded by freeing you from the hell you so gallantly endured. Now, however, I think perhaps there was another reason as well. You stir my blood, it seems.”