A Flame in Byzantium

You mention that you are planning to remain in Africa for five years. In five years any contact I have at court will be lost and whatever benefits I might be able to gain will have no more bearing than the money and glory you have yet to win.

While it is true I have enjoyed our time together and I am sorry to lose your favor, it does not pain me sufficiently for me to lose all good sense.

If you decide to continue our meetings, I will expect you to refrain from any mention of your ridiculous offer of marriage. When you return from Africa with your fame and fortune amassed, then it might be worth your while and mine to discuss marriage at that time, but certainly not before then, and not under the conditions that prevail in our lives.

Surely you will realize that you have been most capricious in your offer when you take time for sober thought. I will not be angry and will regard it as the impetuous act of an infatuated man, not a prudent officer.

From my own hand, farewell.

Eugenia

10

"You should learn to call it Konstantinoupolis," Drosos told Olivia for the third time that afternoon. "You are not in Roma anymore, you are here, and it is fitting that you should learn our ways."

"Konstantinoupolis," she said dutifully. "But in my thoughts it is still Constantinople."

"In time you will change; you'll see."

From their vantage point at the crest of the hill, Drosos could point out to Olivia every part of the city. The afternoon sun turned everything gold and brass, even the ships tied up at the wharves beyond the ramparts and grounds of the royal palace on the Sea of Marmara. At the moment, it was the ships that held his attention. "That one, with the angled sail, is from Egypt. They don't often take to sea in those boats; they use them for river traffic on the Nile, but the larger ones, like that, they occasionally bring here. By the look of it, they're carrying oil and cloth."

"And the one next to it?" Olivia asked, though she tended to find ships uninteresting since she was a very poor sailor and disliked all journeys by water.

"That is from southern Gaul, from Faxinetium, judging by the way the sails are painted. You see those cages on the deck? They probably carried some livestock with them, goats or sheep, given the size of the cages." He grinned at her. "Does seeing these ships make you long for Roma, or are you longing to travel to distant lands?"

"Roma is where I was born. Nowhere else draws me as Roma does." Her eyes grew distant. "That ship beside the Gaul?"

"From Hippo Regius," said Drosos. "In Africa."

"I know where Hippo Regius is," Olivia said but without any heat. "And I have a fair idea where most other noted cities are."

"That is unusual for a woman," Drosos pointed out.

"You're used to another kind of woman," said Olivia a trifle distantly. "In Roma, it was expected that we have some education, since we would have to be able to handle our own affairs."

"Scandalous," said Drosos, teasing her.

She was used to this and refused to respond to his jibes. "It would not be so unfortunate a thing if more of your women here knew a little more of the world." She said it tranquilly and smiled at him as he reached out to touch her hair.

"Let's see: you know most of the palace grounds, don't you? And the Hippodrome is obvious enough. Hagia Sophia and Hagia Irene… Now, show me something in Roma that is as splendid as the dome of Hagia Sophia. You've been down the Mese—I saw no street in Roma so fine."

"You did not see Roma at her best," Olivia reminded him.

"You were fortunate to find a house so near the Augusteum, and in so pleasant a location. For many, even those with sufficient funds, such a place would not be possible." He had mentioned this before and spoke of it now reflectively as he gazed out at the city.

Although the worst of the heat was over the day was still uncomfortably warm and the smell of the place was intense and pungent.

"Come, Drosos," Olivia said as she held out her hand. "I will agree that this is a beautiful setting and were I not a Roman I might well count myself blessed for being able to live here."

"You're shameless, that's what it is." He took her hand in his and walked with her back toward his chariot. "You ought to let me order a palanquin for you."

"Why? You could not show me your precious Constantinople if I were hidden by curtains." She used the Latin word deliberately.

"Konstantinoupolis," he corrected her.

"If you insist." She climbed into the chariot and waited while he gathered up the reins. As he set the vehicle in motion, she shifted her balance with practiced ease. "How long will it take us to get back to my house?"

"Not very long," he said. "We will be there before sunset, if that concerns you."

"Not particularly," she said, not entirely honestly. "I find the day enervating and I long for a bath." Her Roman-style tub was sunk in her native Roman earth and was especially restorative to her.

"You Romans and your infernal, eternal baths." He did not sound condemning as he spoke and he smiled in anticipation.

"You may curse all you wish if you will join me." She watched as a train of heavily laden camels went past them toward the gate that was in the west end of the city but opened on the road to the east, at the edge of the Black Sea.

"Horrible beasts. They spit." Drosos was in a buoyant mood but Olivia could also sense a restlessness, a discontent that lay under his ebullience. "I've ridden them. They sway like a ship in heavy seas."

"How delightful," Olivia said with a laugh. "I will leave them to you and I will keep to horses and chariots, if it's all the same to you."

The streets were more crowded now, and the press of humanity slowed their progress. Drosos held his team to a slow walk, remarking as he did, "These two are used to the city, God be thanked. If I brought my blacks here, I'd have to bring two slaves to lead them, otherwise they'd bolt."

"And then?" asked Olivia. "Where could they go in this crush?"

"Knowing my blacks, they'd try to go up the walls or over the men in the streets." Little as he liked to admit it, even this team of duns was fighting his control.

"Only the men?" Olivia asked with exaggerated innocence.

"Stop that," Drosos said, starting to laugh. "I can't keep my mind on what I'm doing."

The last part of their journey, once they were away from the streets feeding the Mese, went more easily and they reached her house while the sun still hung in the western sky. As Drosos turned his chariot and team over to her grooms, he pointed this out to her.

"You see, even when we must go slowly through the market, we can make good time."

"True enough." She smiled at Niklos Aulirios who opened the door for them. "Have you had any messages brought to me?" It was a regular inquiry and she did not give him her full attention.

"There was a footman from Antonina not long ago. He brought an invitation for a reception she plans to give her husband's returning officers," said Niklos. "I said that if you were able you would attend out of respect for those defending your home."

She smiled at Niklos. "You are a treasure, my friend."

Drosos, who had overheard this, looked outraged. "They have replaced his officers again?"

"Apparently," said Niklos, indicating the smaller reception room off the vestibule. "Will you be sitting here, great lady?"

"After bathing, perhaps," said Olivia.

"What has got into the Emperor's mind?" Drosos demanded of the ceiling. "He removes the officers again and again and again and then he becomes angry because there are no victories."

"He might not understand," Olivia suggested gently, guiding Drosos toward the rear of the house where she had had her bath built.

"He ought to understand. It's important that an Emperor understand." He stopped in the middle of the hall and turned toward Olivia, his face darkening. "Unless he is determined that Belisarius have no victories, and then everything he has done becomes sensible."

"It may be," she said, talking as if to calm an excited child. "But you yourself have warned me that there are factions at court that are so tangled in plot, counterplot and conspiracy that no one can think himself safe there." She was able to get him moving again.

"Even so, this is a military matter, not part of court life." He had made fists of his hands and he walked with such determination that Olivia hoped all the doors between here and her bath were open so that Drosos would not have the opportunity to kick them open.

"Military or court, each wields power and those who love power will embrace one as readily as another. Chide me for being Roman if you like, but admit that we Romans know something about playing with power."

"That changes nothing," Drosos declared, his brown eyes growing hot. "If Justinian seeks to restore the Empire to what it was, he'll have to do better than change Belisarius' officers every time someone at court farts." ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">