To Love Again (41 page)

“This is not unique to Byzantium alone, Cailin. All civilizations reach this apogee at some point in their development. Those less rich imitate their betters; and the poor are kept in their place by a top-heavy bureaucracy and a beneficent ruler who allows them into the games free. Bread and circuses, my dear girl, keep the poor in check, except for those rare times when plague, or famine, or war interfere with the workings of the government. When those things happen, even emperors are not safe on their thrones.” He chuckled. “I am a cynic, as you can see.”

“All I desire,” Cailin replied, “is to marry my dear lord, and if the gods will it, bear him a child. I shall live here in the country, raise my children, and be content. I want no part of Byzantium’s intrigues, Arcadius.”

“You will not be able to escape them, dear girl,” he said. “Aspar is not some unimportant noble with a country estate to which he may retire. This idyll you have been living cannot continue once you are married. You will have to accept your proper place at court as the wife of the empire’s First Patrician. Take my advice, dear girl, and do not ally yourself with any faction no matter how seductively they importune you to join them,
and they will
. You must remain neutral, as does Aspar. He has but one loyalty, and that is to Byzantium itself.”

“My loyalty is to Aspar,” she said quietly, but firmly.

“That is good. Ah, yes, dear girl, I can see you will not be lured by the siren’s song sung at the court. You are too sensible. Now let us return to the business of immortalizing you,”
he said, chuckling. “You have an outrageously lush form for such a practical woman.”

“Tell me about these games you are so eager to return to the city for, Arcadius,” Cailin said after she had resumed her pose. “I thought there were only games in May on the day of commemoration. I did not know they were held at other times. Will there be chariot races? I did enjoy the races.”

“There are games held several times during the year,” he answered her, “but these particular games are being sponsored by Justin Gabras to celebrate his marriage to Aspar’s former wife, Flacilla Strabo. He was unable to schedule them sooner because in the spring everything is concentrated on the May games. Then the weather grew too hot in the summer. So Justin Gabras planned his games to coincide with the sixth-month anniversary of his marriage to Flacilla. There will be racing in the morning and gladiators in the afternoon. Gabras, I am told, has paid for death matches.”

“I have never seen gladiators,” Cailin said. “They fight with swords and shields, don’t they? What are death matches?”

“Well, dear girl,” Arcadius began, “I see that this is another area of your education I shall have to fill in for you. Gladiatorial bouts first began in ancient Campania and Etruria, from whence our ancestors sprang. The first gladiators were slaves, made to battle each other to the death for their masters’ amusement. Such matches came to Rome eventually, but were held only during the funeral games for distinguished men. They were rare for many years. Then slowly gladiatorial bouts began being sponsored privately, and the emperor Augustus funded a few of what he called ‘extraordinary shows.’ Eventually the gladiators were scheduled regularly at the public games in December on the Saturnalia, while politicians, and others wishing the public’s support, supplied free gladiatorial combats at other times. The populace loved the excitement and the blood lust of such games.

“In the beginning gladiators were captives taken in war who far preferred death to becoming slaves. They were trained fighters. Soon, however, with the Roman peace imposed
over most of the world, the supply of captives dwindled and it became necessary to train men who were not soldiers. Many criminals were sentenced to become gladiators, but even so, there was not enough of a supply to fill the now great demand. Many innocent men were accused of petty offenses and condemned to the ring. Early Christians were sacrificed because there were not enough criminals or captives to be found. When there were not enough men available, women and, yes, even small children were sent into the ring to fight.”

“How awful!” Cailin cried, but Arcadius continued, unmoved.

“There were schools for gladiators in Capua, Praeneste, Rome, and Pompeii, as well as other cities. Some schools were owned by wealthy nobles so they might train their own fighters, but others were the property of men who dealt in gladiators. The schools were strictly run because their purpose was to ensure a steady supply of competent, effective fighters. The teachers were tough, but they trained their charges well, and carefully. Diet was monitored. Each day held a round of gymnastics, and lessons from weapons experts.

“Eventually, however, it became impossible to obtain enough students to train even from among captives and criminals. Today’s gladiators are free men who have chosen the life for themselves.”

“I cannot imagine why,” Cailin replied. “It sounds terrible. But what of the weapons they use, Arcadius? And how do they fight?”

“In pairs, usually,” he said, “although in the past gladiatorial combats have pitted masses of men against masses of men. Usually few were left standing. Professional gladiators are divided into three groups: Samnites, who are heavily armed; Thracians, who are lightly armed; and there are net fighters. The net man’s weapons are his large net, his daggers, and a spear.”

“You still have not told me what a death match is,” Cailin said.

“The combatants fight to the death, unless, of course, Gabras grants the loser of each match mercy. Knowing Justin Gabras, I doubt he will. He will be far more popular with the people if he gives them a show of blood.”

“How horrible,” Cailin said, shuddering. “I do not think I would like these gladiatorial combats, knowing that one of the two men has to die.”

“It adds spice to the match knowing it,” Arcadius said. “The combatants are always magnificent fighters under such circumstances.”

“I am surprised that any free man would agree to fight under such conditions,” Cailin noted. “To know that you might be killed is such a frightening prospect.” She shuddered.

“But there is always the chance you will not be killed,” he answered. “Besides, the fee for a death match is far better than for just the ordinary combat. The little gossip that reaches me here tells me that the current, unbeaten champion, a man known as the Saxon, is to fight in Gabras’s games.”

“I feel sorry for him,” Cailin said. “If he is the unbeaten champion, then all the others will strive harder to bring him down. He faces the most danger.”

“True,” Arcadius agreed, “but it will make for a far more exciting match. You may step down, Cailin, and clothe yourself. I am finished.” He stepped back to admire his handiwork. “It is done, and it is one of my greatest masterpieces, I think,” he said, feigning understatement. “Aspar should be well-pleased, and inclined to pay me on time for my efforts.”

“What of the base?” she demanded. “I want it set in the garden facing the sea before Aspar returns from Adrianople.”

“I have an apprentice in the city working on the pedestal, my dear,” he told her. “The marble is most unique, a pink and white mixture. I have no idea where it came from. We found it lying about beneath some old clothes in the rear of my studio, but when I saw it, I knew it was the perfect piece of stone for our Venus. Come and look now.”

Cailin had slipped her tunica back on. She came around to view her statue. The young Venus, as Arcadius liked to
call it, stood, her body slightly curved, one arm at her side, the other raised, the hand palm outward as if shielding her eyes from the sun. Her hair was piled atop her head, but here and there errant ringlets had escaped and curled about her slender neck and delicate ears. There was just the faintest hint of a smile upon her face. She was both pristine and serene in face and form. “It is beautiful,” Cailin finally said. She was frankly awed by the sculptor’s skill. She could almost see the pulse at the base of the young Venus’ throat. Each fingernail and toenail was perfect in its detail; and there was so much more.

“Your simple homage is more than enough praise,” he said quietly. He could see the admiration in her eyes, not for how he had portrayed her, but for his talent, and his art. Her lack of sophistication was refreshing, Arcadius thought. Had this been a woman of the court, she would have complained that he had not really caught her essence, and then tried to cheat him of his fee. Well, it had been a most pleasant interlude. Tomorrow he would return to the city and begin a set of six figures for the altar of a new church being built in Constantinople. “When the pedestal is done, dear girl,” he said, “I shall come myself to see the statue installed upon it. I think Flavius Aspar will be most pleased with what we have accomplished together.”

After he departed the following day, Cailin found that she missed the sculptor’s company. He had been a charming and most amusing companion. Nellwyn was a sweet girl, but a simple one. Cailin could not speak on complicated matters with her. She just did not understand. Still, she was pleasant company, and Cailin was glad for her presence.

The harvest was a good one on Flavius Aspar’s estates, and as Cailin walked across the fields with Nellwyn, greeting the workers, she again considered the possibility of Aspar’s raising horses for the chariot races. The estate’s tenants already raised hay and grain for their cattle and other stock. Much of the pasturage was as suitable for horses as for cattle. If Aspar needed even more land, perhaps he could obtain it from overtaxed landowners whose properties bordered his
own. She would bring it up with him again when he returned.

Casia came to visit for a few days’ duration, and brought news of the city. “Basilicus swears to me that Leo will give his consent to your marriage when Aspar returns. The general’s efforts in Adrianople, it seems, are proving successful. It will cost Leo nothing from his imperial treasury to give his general what he truly desires,” she said with a laugh. “Did Arcadius finish your statue?”

“A few weeks ago. He is coming soon with the pedestal to install it in the garden. I want it done before Aspar returns,” Cailin answered. “Would you like to see it, Casia?”

“Of course!” the beautiful courtesan said, laughing. “Do you think I mentioned it just merely in passing? I am dying of curiosity.”

“Arcadius calls it the young Venus,” Cailin explained as she unveiled the statue in the artist’s summer studio. “What do you think?”

Casia stood spellbound, and then she finally said, “He has caught you perfectly, Cailin. Your youth, your beauty, that sweet innocence that shows in your face despite all you have been through. Yes, Arcadius has caught your very soul, and were I not truly your friend, I should be very jealous of you.” She took Cailin’s hand in hers, and squeezing it, said, “Soon we shall no longer be able to pursue our friendship.”

“Why?” Cailin demanded. “Because I am to be Aspar’s wife, and you are Basilicus’s mistress? No, Casia, I will not play their cruel games. We will remain friends no matter the change in my status.”

Casia’s lovely eyes filled with tears, and she said, “I have never had a friend until you, Cailin Drusus. I hope you are right.”

“I have never had a friend, either, Casia. Antonia Porcius pretended to be my friend, though I always knew she was not. Friends do not betray friends. I know we will never betray each other. Now, tell me the gossip from the city. I miss Arcadius’s ribald chatter.”

They walked from the studio down to the beach, where they sat upon the sand and Casia told her all the latest news of the town.

“Basilicus’s wife, Eudoxia, finally seduced her young guardsman. He was the very same fellow who brought you to the empress,” Casia began. “His seed is most potent, and poor Eudoxia became pregnant practically immediately, despite her best efforts to avoid it, I am told. Basilicus was furious. She wanted to have an abortion, but he would not allow it. He has sent her to her parents’ home outside of Ephesus for her confinement.”

“I do not know how he dares to be so righteous, considering the relationship he has with you,” Cailin said with a small smile.

“It does seem unfair,” Casia agreed, “but you must remember that there are different rules for men and women. Basilicus had been most lenient with Eudoxia because she is a good wife and mother. She is not at all wanton like Flacilla. That is why he allowed her her little diversion. Becoming pregnant, however, was very careless on Eudoxia’s part, and has proven a great embarrassment to Basilicus. Eudoxia should have considered the consequences when she acted so rashly. The child is due early next summer, and will be given in adoption to a good family. Poor Eudoxia will remain in Ephesus until it is born. I do not mind. Basilicus is now free to spend more time with me. His children are practically grown and do not need him.”

“I wonder what they must think of their mother,” Cailin said.

“Basilicus’s son knows the truth, and wanted to dash right off and kill the poor guardsman. Basilicus explained most forcefully to him that one cannot kill a man for accepting what was freely offered. As for the prince’s daughters, they do not know, or at least he hopes they do not. They have been told their mother has gone to Ephesus to care for their sick grandparents, and Basilicus sent them to St. Barbara’s Convent to keep them safe until their mother returns. Left alone,
who knows what mischief they might get into. Girls are most inventive.”

“Where do you come from?” Cailin asked her friend as they gazed at the water. “Athens, I think I once heard you say. Where is that?”

“It is a city on the Aegean Sea, south of Constantinople. I was born in a brothel that my mother owned. My father was an official of the government there. He was not, I remember, well-liked. When he died, they closed down my mother’s business. I was just ten, but I was sold into slavery immediately. I do not know what happened to my mother, or little brother. I was brought to Constantinople and bought by Jovian for Villa Maxima. I was very lucky,” Casia said. “You know how well they treat children at Villa Maxima. They are taught to read and write, and to do simple sums. They learn manners, and how to please the men and women who patronize the establishment. When I was thirteen my virginity was auctioned off to the highest bidder. Jovian and Phocas had never before nor have they since received such a high price for a virgin,” she said proudly. “Because I had been taught well how to please a man, and because I seem to have a talent for such work, I became quite popular. Jovian warned me to be choosy about whom I pleasured, for it was my right to refuse any man. It proved to be excellent advice. The more discerning I appeared to be, the more desperate men became to have me, and the more willing to pay the highest price. I managed to garner some magnificent gifts from my appreciative lovers.” She smiled. “Then Basilicus came, and after a short time I realized he wanted more than just an occasional visit to my bed. I hinted such a thing might be possible. He offered to give me my own home in a good district, and so I purchased my freedom from Villa Maxima.”