To Love Again (36 page)

She shuddered with actual pleasure as he filled her. Her arms tightened about him, drawing him as close as she could, reveling in the feeling of him against her. Their eyes met even as he began to move slowly upon her. Cailin could not look away, nor, she realized, could he. Their very souls seemed to blend as the rhythm of his sensuous movement began to communicate the rising passion between them. He said nothing, but she could feel him willing her to wrap her legs about him, and she did. Then she began to match his thrusts with voluptuous, pleasure-seeking motions of her own. The cadence of their deep desire grew almost savage in its intensity, until both Cailin and Aspar were overcome by its tender violence.

She flew
. Her spirit seemed to slip from her body and soar out over the still, silvery sea. She was one with the earth, and the sky, and the silken waters below. Nothing mattered but the sweetness enfolding them, cradling them warmly in its embrace. They were one together.

“Aspar!”
she cried his name softly in his ear as she came slowly to herself once again, and then her vision cleared. She saw his dear face, his cheeks wet with tears. Cailin smiled happily at him, pulling his head down to kiss away those tears, realizing at the same time that she was weeping, too.

Finally they lay together upon his cloak, calm once more, their fingers entwined, and he said with a small attempt at humor, “If I had but known, my love, that making love to you upon the beach in the moonlight would result in such delight, I should have done it months ago. How much time we have wasted in our bed, and in the bath.”

“We will waste time no more,” she promised him, and when he leaned over to kiss her, her features were radiant. “Whatever prevented me from sharing passion with you before this night is now gone, my dear lord. I am like our mother, the earth, reborn with the springtime!”

If Aspar’s love for Cailin had been restrained previously in
consideration of her feelings, that love was now plainly visible to all who saw them together. Aspar became more determined than ever that Cailin should be his wife. “We will go to some country priest and have him marry us,” he said firmly. “Once the rite is performed, what can they do? You must be my wife!”

“There is no one in the empire who does not know Flavius Aspar,” Cailin said quietly. “And there is no one who does not know of the patriarch’s wishes in this matter. Even were I to become one of your Christians, my dear lord, I should not be allowed to become your wife. Those few brief months that I spent at Villa Maxima have destroyed my reputation.”

“There must be some way in which I can convince the patriarch,” Aspar said to Basilicus one afternoon as they came from the palace, where they had been conferring with the emperor. “Flacilla has married Justin Gabras, and the pair of them are the scandal of the city with their orgies and their parties, which rival anything the brothels can create. How can the patriarch justify such a union while denying me the opportunity to marry my Cailin, who is so good?”

“Her goodness does not enter into it, my friend,” Basilicus replied. “And it is not just the patriarch. We have a law here in Byzantium that specifically forbids the union of a senator, or other person of high rank, with an actress or a whore, or any woman of lower rank. You would not be allowed to circumvent the law, Aspar.
Not even you.”

“Cailin is a patrician,” Aspar protested angrily.

“She says she is,” Basilicus answered, “but who is to prove her truthful, or a liar? Here in Byzantium she was an actress in a brothel, performing sexual acts before an audience. That makes her ineligible to marry with the First Patrician of the empire, Flavius Aspar.”

“Then I will leave the empire,” Aspar said grimly. “I can no longer be content or useful if I am denied my wish in this matter.”

Basilicus did not argue. Aspar would not leave Byzantium. His whole world was here, and he was not a young
man. Besides, even based upon his brief acquaintance with Cailin, Basilicus felt she would not allow Aspar to do anything that could endanger his position, or his comfort.

“Casia tells me you have asked her to sit in your box at the games next week,” the prince said, changing the subject. “It is kind of you, and I have said she may go, although it will cause a small scandal. Who else will you invite, my friend? Entertainers and artisans, I doubt not.”

Aspar laughed. “Ahhh, yes,” he said. “How could I, the empire’s First Patrician and great general, dare to prefer those who create to those in power? Eh, Basilicus? But I do! And you are correct. Both Bellisarius and Apollodorus, the great classical actor and the masses’ favorite comedian, will be in my box on May eleventh. And Anastasius, the singer and poet, as well as John Andronicus, the artist who does those marvelous ivory carvings, and Philippicus Arcadius, the sculptor. I have commissioned him to do a nude of Cailin for our garden. He will spend the summer at the villa. I have built him a studio in which to work, so he will not have to travel back and forth between the country and the city, nor worry about his daily needs, which my servants will see to. Your sister will enjoy that piece of gossip, Basilicus.”

“Indeed she will,” he admitted, and then he said, “Are not Bellisarius and Apollodorus dreadful rivals? I heard that they despised each other. Is it safe having them in the same box?”

“Their hatred has recently turned to love, or so I hear.” Aspar chuckled. “There is another tidbit for our beloved empress Verina to chew upon.”

“The gods! They haven’t become lovers! But of course they have, or you would not say it,” Basilicus exclaimed. They had reached his litter, and he climbed in, settling himself comfortably amid the pillows.

Aspar mounted his stallion, which had been tethered next to the prince’s conveyance. “Is your wife coming to the games?”

Basilicus nodded mournfully. “Eudoxia would not miss a chance to seat herself in the imperial box, where she can be seen, admired, and bitterly envied by all of her friends and relations
seated in the stands. I will be by her side as convention demands, but afterward when she goes to the palace to enjoy the banquet, I shall join my adorable Casia.”

“Will not Eudoxia miss you at the banquet, Basilicus?”

“Nay,” the prince replied. “She will be too busy sampling all the delicacies offered the imperial guests; and of course there is that young guardsman who has recently taken her eye. I believe she means to seduce him eventually, and I do want to give her the opportunity. If she is busy with her young man, then she will not wonder if I am busy somewhere else. Eudoxia rarely strays from her marital vows, and so when she does, I like to give her as clear a field as possible. She is an excellent wife, and mother to our children. I might add that her discretion in her little peccadillos is commendable, to say the least. There has never been the tiniest bit of scandal about her, which is certainly more than one can say about most patrician wives these days.”

“How fortunate for you both,” Aspar said dryly. He did not understand the kind of marriage that most of the nobility had. True, there were exceptions; couples who, like his late wife Anna and himself, kept to their vows of fidelity and loyalty. That was the kind of marriage he would share with Cailin one day.

“I am not needed in town until the games,” he said to the prince. “I will see you then.” He rode off down the Mese toward the Golden Gate as Basilicus ordered his bearers to take him to the house of his mistress, the fair Casia.

May eleventh dawned clear and sunny. It was a perfect day to celebrate the founding of Constantinople. Cailin dressed carefully, fully aware that she would be the subject of gossip. She wanted to make Aspar proud, and so she chose a stola of pale violet silk which complemented her eye color. The round neckline was low, but not immodestly so. The long sleeves were embroidered with wide gold bands showing flowers and leaves. The stola was belted just below her waist with a girdle of small gold plaques studded with pearls that sat neatly atop her hipbones. A delicate gold and violet shawl
of brocatelle, known as a palla, would protect her from the burning rays of the sun. Nellwyn slipped little jeweled kid slippers onto her mistress’s feet, and then stood up to view Cailin. Her eyes mirrored her approval.

“You’ll look as good as that empress woman, lady,” she said.

“Only if she has jewelry to rival Verina’s,” Aspar said as he came forward with a large ebony box. “These are for you, my love.”

Cailin took the box he handed her, set it upon the table and opened it. Within was a beautifully bejeweled collar of gold, small diamonds, amethysts, and pearls. She stood stunned as he lifted it from its case and fastened it about her neck. It lay flat upon her chest, almost covering the skin her neckline revealed, and it made the stola look far richer than it truly was. “I have never seen anything so magnificent,” Cailin said. “It is beautiful, my dear lord. Thank you!”

“There is more,” he said quietly, and lifting out a pair of large pendant earrings, he handed them to her with a smile.

Cailin smiled tremulously back at him, and affixed the large single teardrop amethysts set in gold filigree to her ears. There were several bracelets in the box as well: two gold bangles set with diamonds and pearls, and a wide gold band with inlaid mosaic that glittered and glistened with the light. Finally there was a filigreed gold headband studded with amethysts and diamonds. Cailin fitted it over the sheer mauve-colored veil covering her hair, which she wore loose in deference to Aspar, who liked it that way.

“I will be the envy of every man in the Hippodrome today,” he said sincerely. “You are the most beautiful woman in a city of beauties.”

“I wish to be the envy of no one,” Cailin told him honestly. “The last time I knew such happiness and contentment, the gods snatched it away from me. I lost everything I held dear. Now that I have found happiness again, I want to keep it, my lord. Do not boast lest the gods hear you and grow jealous of us.”

“We will keep it,” he said firmly, “and I will keep you safe.”

Cailin traveled to the city in her comfortable litter while Aspar rode his big white stallion by her side. He was greeted by many people along the way. Cailin, watching from the security of her conveyance, felt her heart swell with her love for this great and good man. There was no doubt that Flavius Aspar was well-respected by ordinary citizens, not simply feared for his power and wealth.

They entered the city through the Golden Gate. This was Constantinople’s ceremonial triumphal gate. Made of pristine white marble set into Theodosius’s walls, the gate gained its name from the enormous burnished brass doors with which it was fitted. The elegant severity of the gate’s architecture, and its splendid proportions, made it an object of admiration throughout the empire. Passing through the gate, they traveled slowly with the increasing crowds down the Mese to the Hippodrome.

At the Golden Gate they had been met by a troop of cavalry that had come to escort Aspar and his party along the broad main avenue of the city. As they surrounded Cailin’s litter, she discreetly closed the silk curtains. She was well aware that she was the object of certain curiosity among the soldiers, but she could not allow them to stare boldly at her as if she were a common prostitute.

The Hippodrome could seat forty thousand people, and was an imitation of Rome’s Circus Maximus. However, it had never hosted games quite as cruel as those in Rome, nor had it seen the martyrdom of innocents. It had been first built by the Roman emperor Septimus Severus, but remodeled by the great Byzantine emperor Constantine I. The entertainments it offered were varied. There was everything from animal baiting, theatrical amusements, and gladiators, to chariot racing, religious processions, state ceremonies, and the public torture of famous prisoners. Entry to the Hippodrome was gained by presenting a special token, and tokens were issued free in advance of the games to the populace who came to sit, regardless of class, upon the snowy marble tiers of seats.

In the center of the Hippodrome a line of monuments had been erected, forming what was called a spina. The spina indicated
the division between the downward race course and the upward one. Among the monuments was the Serpent Column, which had been brought to Constantinople from the temple of Apollo in Delphi by Constantine I. The ancient column, made up of intertwined bronze snakes, had been given to the temple by thirty-one Greek cities in the year 479
B.C
. It commemorated the victory of the Greeks over the Persians, and was presented to the gods with gratitude. Another monument that stood out was the Egyptian obelisk that Theodosius I had placed upon a sculptured base. It was carved on all four sides with scenes of imperial life, including one of Theodosius himself in the imperial box with his family and close friends, watching the games.

Cailin’s litter was set down by a private gate to the arena on the eastern side. Aspar dismounted his stallion and proudly handed her from the vehicle. He knew that every man in the cavalry troop was eager to see the woman rumored to have captured his heart. A dainty jewel-encrusted gold sandal was put forth first as she stepped from the litter. Eyes widened. Knowing looks were exchanged by the soldiers, most not a little envious, and as the empire’s First Patrician escorted his beautiful young mistress into the Hippodrome, a long, low whistle of admiration echoed behind them.

Aspar grinned, just as any small boy with a new and most admired toy would have, but Cailin scolded him softly.

“Shame on you, my lord! You need not look so delighted with yourself, as if you did something worthy of praise. All those randy young soldiers are wondering about is if it is your power, your wealth, or your skill as a lover that has gained you a young and pretty mistress. It is nothing to be proud of,” she finished, looking indignant. “A decent woman would be shamed.”

“But you are not considered a decent woman,” he teased her. “Those randy young soldiers, as you call them, would envy me even more if they knew the passionate, wildly wanton creature you have recently become. My back is covered with weals that are a testament to your delicious newfound
desire, my love. Ahh, yes, you do well to blush!” He chuckled. “But I am content to have you so utterly shameless in my behalf.”