Authors: Bertrice Small
The races began anew, the four horse teams kicking the sandy floor of the Hippodrome as they careened and skidded down the course in their quest for victory. In the morning the Greens had taken two races, the Blues one, and the Reds the final race. Now the White team took the first of the afternoon’s contests, and then the Blues had a second victory, tying them with the Green team. But the day was to go to the Greens. Victorious in the last two races, they accepted from Leo’s own hands an aurigarion, which was a gold emblem, a silver helmet, and a silver belt. The crowds, who had already screamed themselves hoarse, howled their approval anew, and the games were formally concluded as the imperial box emptied of its inhabitants.
Suddenly those people in the seats nearest to Aspar saw the green ribbons he carried and took up the cry.
“Aspar! Aspar! Aspar!”
A small look of annoyance passed quickly over Aspar’s face, but it was swiftly gone. Turning, he acknowledged the crowd’s cheers with a friendly wave of his hand that was enough to satisfy them, but not enough to encourage further homage or admiration from the citizens of the city.
“How politic you are,” Basilicus mocked him. “This little incident will, of course, be reported to Leo, magnified with proper embellishments naturally, and the poor man will be
torn between his gratitude to you and his fear that you may one day displace him.” The prince laughed.
“Leo knows that I prefer being a private citizen to being an emperor,” Aspar said. “Should he ever doubt it, I will reassure him once again on the matter. Frankly, if he would let me, I should retire.”
“Not you,” Basilicus said with a broad chuckle. “You will die in service to Byzantium. Casia, my angel, have you something delicious for my supper? I am coming with you.”
“You are not going to the palace for the celebratory banquet?” Aspar asked his friend. “I know you said earlier you would not, but is not your presence mandatory?”
“I will not be missed, I assure you, my friend,” the prince replied. “Besides, the patriarch is invited. He will pray over the food for so long that it will be inedible when he is done, and hardly worth being thankful for at all,” he finished with a chuckle.
“I will take better care of him, my lord,” Casia said, “and his meal will be precisely to his liking, will it not, my prince?”
Basilicus’s eyes glittered wickedly in agreement.
Casia turned to Cailin. “May I come and see you one day? I am so pleased that you included me in your party today. We have both come a distance since our days at Villa Maxima.”
“Of course you may come,” Cailin said sincerely. “I have been quite alone at Villa Mare when my lord is away, though I have just obtained a young Saxon slave girl who keeps me company. I love to listen to your gossip, Casia. You seem to know everything that is going on in Constantinople. I admit to being happier in the country, however.”
“The country is pleasant to visit,” Casia responded, “but I was born in Athens, and I prefer the city myself. Basilicus likes to speak Greek with me. He is so very Hellenized for a Byzantine.”
Cailin bid all of their guests farewell, and Arcadius promised that he would be arriving at Villa Mare shortly to begin his work. Casia entered her litter along with Basilicus, and
they moved off into the crowds leaving the Hippodrome. Cailin climbed into her own conveyance.
“I am required to attend the emperor at the palace,” Aspar said, leaning down to speak privately with her. “I will send my cavalry troup to escort you home, and join you as soon as I can.”
“I do not need your soldiers beyond the gates, my lord. The road is safe, and busy, and it is daylight. They will aid me in getting through the crowds, but no farther, I pray you.”
“Very well, my love. I will send a messenger if I am going to be late. Wait up for me if you can, Cailin.”
“What did the emperor want earlier, my lord?” she asked him, curious.
“My presence, and nothing more. It is his way of exercising his authority, and I obey him because it reassures him,” Aspar said wisely. “The invitation to the banquet, when he knows I dislike banquets, is but another test. The church is always spilling poison in Leo’s ear because I am not Orthodox in my beliefs. By obeying him unquestioningly, I make the patriarch’s lies seem foolish. Leo is not a stupid man. He is fearful, yes, but not unintelligent. It is the empress who worries me.”
“Why?” Cailin said.
“She is ambitious. Far more so than Leo. Verina would like a son to follow in Leo’s footsteps. They have but two daughters. I do not know if she will get that son. Leo prefers prayer to pleasure, it seems.”
“If that is a virtue, my lord, and one necessary to an emperor, you will indeed never be emperor,” Cailin said with a laugh. “You far prefer pleasure to prayer. I do not think I have ever seen you in prayer to either the Christian god or any god.”
In answer, he placed his lips upon hers and kissed her slowly, with passion. She responded warmly, running her tongue mischievously along his fleshy mouth as his hand slipped beneath her gown to fondle a breast. Her nipple immediately hardened and she moaned softly.
Removing his lips from hers, he smiled wickedly into her
face. “I will come as soon as I can, my love,” he promised, removing his hand from her gown, but not before he gave her nipple a little pinch.
She caught her breath, and then letting it out slowly, promised him, “I will wait, my lord, and be prepared to do your every bidding.”
D
id you see the way he looked at her?” Flacilla Strabo said to her husband, Justin Gabras. “
He loves her!
He actually loves her.” Her face was angry.
“Why do you care?” he answered. “You never loved him. It should not matter to you that he loves her.”
“That is not the point!” she snapped. “Do not be so stupid, Justin! Can you not see how embarrassing his open passion is? He did not give his love to me, but he has given it to that little whore! I will be a laughingstock among all those who know us. How dare he bring that creature to the games and sit so boldly with her in his box for all to see. Even if no one knew who she was, practically everyone in Constantinople knows Casia, particularly now that she is Prince Basilicus’s mistress! How like Aspar to surround himself with artisans, actors, and whores!”
“You are not particularly attractive when you are angry, my dear wife,” Justin Gabras softly chided Flacilla. “Your skin becomes quite mottled. You would do well to keep your temper in check, particularly when we are in public.” He leaned across the ripe, young body of the slave girl who lay between them, and tipping Flacilla’s face up to his, kissed her hard. “I do not choose to discuss this matter any more, Flacilla, my love,
and
further mention of your former husband is apt to rouse my blackest ire. You know what happens when my anger is stoked.” He ran a hand down the slave girl’s body. “Let us concentrate on far pleasanter diversions, like our charming little Leah. Is she not lovely, my dear, and so eager for our tender attentions? Are you not, Leah?”
“Ohh, yes, my lord,” the girl responded dutifully, arching herself toward him teasingly. “I long for your touch.”
Justin Gabras smiled lazily at the pretty, compliant creature. Then seeing his wife was still not content, he said harshly, “You will have your revenge, Flacilla, but which would you prefer? A quick strike which will allow Aspar to strike back at us? Or, wait for the right moment, and then destroy them both? I would have you happy, my dear. Make your choice now, and then let us be done with this matter. It begins to bore me mightily.”
“Will he suffer?” she demanded. “I want him to suffer for his rejection of me.”
“If you will wait for the right moment so I may plan it properly, yes, he will suffer. Aspar’s life will become a hell on earth, I promise you, but you must be patient, Flacilla.”
“Very well,” she responded. “I will bide my time, Justin. As impatient as I am to destroy Aspar, you have a skill for evil such as I have never before witnessed. I will trust in that mastery of wickedness that you possess. Now, which one of us is to have Leah first?” Flacilla looked upon the girl and smiled. “She is indeed lovely, my lord. She is not a virgin, is she?”
“No,” he said. “She is not. It would please me if you took her first, Flacilla. I like watching you perform with another woman. You are very good at it, I must admit, and more tender with one of your own sex than you are with those young men you so favor and yet brutalize.”
She smiled archly at him. “Men,” she said, “are meant to be punished by women; but women should be cherished by lovers of either sex. A woman cherished gives far more than one abused, Justin.”
“Then Aspar must truly cherish the fair Cailin,” he replied cruelly. “Though he looked at her with eyes of love, his looks were returned by that adorable little beauty tenfold. If he loves her as you so believe, she, I assure you, loves him in return.”
“And that knowledge,” she told him, strangely calm, “will make our revenge so much sweeter, Justin, my lord, will it not?”
He laughed. “You match me evil for evil, Flacilla. I wonder what your friend the empress would think of you if she knew your true character. Would the beauteous Verina be shocked? One day I shall have her in my bed, I swear! She is ripe for rebellion, you know. Leo virtually ignores her these days, and spends the time he should spend fucking her on his knees in prayer for an heir; or so the court chatter reports to me.”
The very next afternoon the subject of Justin Gabras’s gossip gathered a small party consisting of her brother and two trusted maids, and set out from the imperial yacht basin to cruise the early summer seas west of the city. It was a perfect afternoon for such sport, and theirs was not the only sailing vessel plying the blue-green waters of the Propontis that afternoon. There was just enough of a breeze to gently propel the boat. The sun shone warmly from a perfectly clear sky. Basilicus had sailed this small inland sea since his boyhood, and he was familiar with its twisting shore and its currents. His skill meant that they needed no boatman, who might later be bribed for information, or carelessly gossip of their destination. The two women who accompanied the empress would have died for her. Their loyalty was such that they could be trusted not to speak even under duress.
Cailin had not known for certain when the empress would come to Villa Mare, but she knew that she would have only a few days after the games before Verina would put in an appearance. She did not like keeping secrets from Aspar, and so she spoke to him the morning following their visit to the Hippodrome. He listened quietly as she told him of Verina’s secret summons and its outcome, his face grave.
“Whatever it is she desires of me,” he said, “it must be very important to her.”
“She agrees to sponsor our marriage if you give it to her,” Cailin said to him. “Still, I fear that she might urge you to something unsavory.”
“I can do nothing that smacks of treason in the slightest,” he responded. “My honor has always been my strongest defense,
my love. As much as I love you, and as much as I want you for my wife, I will not compromise my honor, Cailin. You do understand that?”
“I could not love you, Flavius Aspar, if you were not a man of honor,” Cailin told him. “Remember that I was raised in the traditions of the old Roman empire. Honor was still paramount when my ancestor came to Britain with Claudius, and it remained so down through the centuries as we became Britons, my lord. I would ask nothing dishonorable of you. Still, it cannot hurt to hear what the empress has to say.”
“I will listen,” he promised her. “If Verina is to be moved to some foolish action, perhaps I may dissuade her from it.”
The empress’s mission, however, was not foolish. It stemmed rather from her fears, as she explained to Aspar in the privacy of his garden while Cailin and the maidservants were left behind in the comfort of the atrium, with Basilicus to amuse them. Verina was pale, and she had obviously not been sleeping well. She moved restlessly amid the budding flowers, her fingers plucking nervously at her skirts. Aspar, keeping pace with her, encouraged her to speak.
“Cailin has told me of your meeting on the day of the games,” he said. “Do not dissemble with me, lady. What is it you want of me?”
“I need to know that should a
crisis
arise, Flavius Aspar, that you will support my position,” the empress said softly.
“I will be frank, lady. Is this treason you speak of?”
Verina paled even more. “No! No!” she gasped. “I do not explain well, I fear. The situation is embarrassing to me. Oh, how shall I say it?”
“Plainly,” he told her. “Whatever you say is between us alone, lady. I will grant you the privacy of the confessional this one time. If there is no treason involved, then you have nothing to fear from me. What is it that troubles you so that you seek my aid in secret?”
“It is certain of the priests who surround my husband,” Verina said. “They encourage him to believe I alone am responsible for the fact we do not have a son.
I want a son!
But
how can we have one if Leo does not visit my bed? He has never been an overly passionate man, and in recent years he has ceased visiting my bed altogether.