"We are overcome, Theodora," said Antonina, taking on a cozy manner. "When you made no mention of the races the other day, I naturally supposed you would have other plans for the races."
"There were others who my beloved and exalted husband wished to attend, but it has turned out otherwise, and they are all occupied with matters of state." She smiled as low tables were brought.
Below them, the chestnut team swept past the winning marker more than six lengths ahead of the bays. The crowd roared and the sound of feet thumping the stands made all conversation impossible for a short while. Theodora contented herself with watching her slaves offer food and drink to Antonina.
Finally the bray of the buccinae quieted the stands and the Captain of the City Guard presented the winner with a brass wreath made to resemble large hedge roses with exaggerated thorns.
"The people like these displays," said Theodora. "They see themselves winning. And when those they bet for lose, then it is a defeat that costs little more than the price of what was bet." She smiled at Olivia. "I understand that since these wars began, there has been little racing in Roma."
"There has been little everything in Roma," Olivia corrected her quietly.
"That is unfortunate," said Theodora. "And surely you must be overjoyed to see racing again."
"It makes me homesick," she told Theodora. "Long ago, of course, we had much more than horse racing in Roma. The Ludi Maximi were marvels that no one has equaled. Thousands participated, and they went on for three or four days." Her hazel eyes darkened with memory.
"And good Christians were killed, devoured by wild beasts while the people of Roma shouted their approval." Theodora looked severe now, and she glared at Olivia as if she might have been directly responsible.
"All sorts of people were killed, some of them less valiantly than that. To be torn apart by wild beasts is hideous, but what of those women who were raped to death by wild asses?" Olivia looked curiously at Antonina. "What of them?
"They were not…" Her words faded and she looked at Olivia with less distrust. "What happened then could happen again, under different circumstances. There are those who lack all sympathy for those who insist on living apart from the world who do so for reasons that are not religious. And there is always great curiosity about such strange behavior. Don't you think so, Antonina?"
Antonina held a cube of broiled lamb over her mouth, but rather than eat, she set it aside, addressing Theodora with her most earnest demeanor. "This is precisely what I have been trying to warn Olivia of, my most majestic Empress. It would appear that, so far, I have not been heeded, and that fills me with despair, for it is necessary that Olivia not be too lighthearted in her anticipation of these dangers."
"She's right," Theodora said, studying Olivia. "You don't appreciate how dangerous these matters can be, and if you decide to ignore the danger, you are being foolish. From what I have heard of you, you are not a foolish creature, and so I must think that you are obstinate."
"There is some truth in that," Olivia allowed, her opinion of Theodora changing slightly.
"A Captain of the army has told me that you are not the sort of woman to permit herself to be taken advantage of, either through willful malice or through inept handling." She waited for Olivia to speak, and when her Roman guest said nothing, she continued, "I think that it would be wise of you to take his warning to heart. He is not one to give himself pains except where he has given his fealty, and where that is given, it binds him unto death."
"I am aware of that, and I treasure it more than you know," said Olivia evenly.
"I thought that it was otherwise, that he had overestimated you through the depth of his feeling, but I think now that love has perhaps cleared rather than clouded his vision." Theodora sighed. "As one who was not always where I am now, I know what dangers can stalk you. You do not wish to believe the warnings you have had. Let me tell you that they are given with affection and concern."
"Very well." Olivia turned her head so that she could meet Theodora's gaze evenly. "I will not make light of any other warning, and I will take precautions, for the sake of the Captain of the army as well as for my own. I confess that your concern surprises me."
"It is as much for the Captain as for you, Roman lady. Also, you have not sought favor as many in your position have, and this intrigues me." She raised her head. "Ah. They are about to start the second race. Watch! The grays are mine."
As the next race started, Olivia sat back and wondered what the Empress Theodora might want for her warning; the things that occurred to her troubled her more than the warning had done.
* * *
Text of a letter in Latin from Ragoczy Sanct Germain Franciscus.
Hail to my treasured Olivia;
I am relieved to learn of your decision to leave Roma. As difficult as it is to leave your native earth, there are times that it is the only sensible thing to do, and not simply because you are in the middle of a barbarian invasion. Remember that we cannot afford to attract too much attention to ourselves, for that often brings inquiry that is not to the advantage of those of our blood. As much as the restrictions of Constantinople infuriate you, they are preferable to being hacked to pieces by Totila's soldiers.
The reason it has taken me so long to respond to your letter is that I am moving again. Your letter finally caught up with me after almost a year in coming. I write from Poetovio; I left Pons Saravi over a month ago and have had more difficulties and delays than any I can remember for four hundred years. At the moment I am bound for Trape-zus. I may remain there or go on to Rhagae in the Parthian Empire: this in case you decide to write again and are at a loss to know where to send the letter.
Your Captain sounds remarkable and I wish you much joy with him, but I warn you not to withhold your secret too long, for if he is so cherished that you are willing to share blood with him, then he deserves to know what stakes he plays for—in any sense. I know how difficult this can be; I remember my own doubts before I told you what would happen at your death. He will need to prepare, as you prepared, my love. From what you have told me of Constantinople, this may not be easily done.
Take care, Olivia. It would hurt me more deeply than you know if you should come to any harm. Know that you always may find a haven with me if I have one to offer, and know also that no matter where you are, my undying affection and care are with you.
Sanct' Germain through the good offices of
Huroghac, merchant from
Mogontiacum traveling to
Constantinople
9
Belisarius looked up as the fourth dispatch rider in as many hours thundered into his camp on a lathered horse.
One of his officers, an exhausted boy named Kylanthos, brought the rider to him. "General Belisarius," he said, then took up his post at the entrance to the tent.
The dispatch rider was not as scruffy as the previous three had been and this alone attracted Belisarius' attention. He rose from his narrow trestle table and came forward, "I don't know you, do I?"
"No, General," said the rider, his expression embarrassed.
"There have been so many changes of officers that I am not always sure." His apology was accompanied by a worn smile. "I hope you bring me better news than the others have done, for I am not in a good humor to sustain more disappointments."