I know you will be prudent in what you say to him, but I ask you to give him my love and my assurances. I want him to be certain that he is welcome when he returns and that he need not fear I will desert him.
It may be that my own situation will become more difficult than it is now, and if that is the case, I ask you to tell Drosos to have patience. I will find a way to be with him once he is in this city again. Sadly, I cannot go to him, much as I would like to, for my petition for permission to establish a household in Alexandria has been denied by the Court Censor. For the time being it appears that I am confined to Konstantinoupolis. However, this house is always open to Drosos, at whatever time, in whatever circumstances, for whatever purpose he wishes.
While it would not be wise to let this be known to any but Drosos, I trust to your discretion and prudence in how you inform him of what I have said. I am not permitted to write to him directly; I hope your friendship for your comrade-at-arms will extend to me in this case, and that you will find a way to pass these words to him.
If you do not believe it is safe to write to him, or if in writing to him, you decide it is wisest not to mention me, let me know of it so that I may find another way to reach him. I dare not say much about my concern, but it is genuine and profound. There are few men who have moved me as Drosos has, and I cannot see him in travail without wanting to ease his burdens.
Whatever your decision, I am grateful that you have read these words from
Atta Olivia Clemens
PART IIIOlivia
Text of a commendation addressed to Narses in Italy.
On the Feast of the Holy Dormition of the Virgin in the Lord's Year 549, the Emperor Justinian sends his greetings and thanks to General Narses, commanding the troops of Byzantion in Italy.
Know that with this commendation we deliver to you and your valiant men an additional two thousand troops, nine hundred horses, five Imperial wallets of gold coins and twelve Imperial wallets of silver in the hope that they will aid you in your campaign against the enemies of our state and religion.
In order to show our thanks more fully, we have given estates to three of your nephews, General Narses, and have increased your estates; our holdings in Adrianopolis are to be given to you in token of our gratitude for your tireless efforts on the part of the Empire.
Without your constant and diligent care, no doubt the lands you guard would have fallen prey to Totila and all the forces who accompany that barbarian. You have turned the tide, and for that you have the praise of the entire Empire, and you will be acknowledged as the savior of Italy. The complaints of those people who have claimed that your troops have been more rapacious than the godless invaders have been revealed as the calumny they are, doubtless the result of agents of the disgraced Belisarius who are attempting to discredit all you have done and give false praise to the former commander. We are instructing you and your men to pay no heed to these carping objections. We wish to see you add victory to victory, and we are confident that your vigorous campaign will serve to restore all of Italy to the Empire.
Your loyalty is held up as an example everywhere and we are ordering a day of public celebration with Masses and prayers as well as feasting in honor of your continuing achievements. We wish that everyone in the Empire join with us in this tribute, and we encourage your troops to show you their appreciation with favors and gifts for the superior command you show them.
May God look upon you with favor and continue to grant you the might and wisdom to restore Italy to our protection. In your valor you have no equal, neither have you any rival in our esteem. We give you every sign of our approval and gratitude.
Justinian
Emperor of Byzantion
his sigil
1
"Will you let me come in?" asked Drosos when Niklos came to the door. "Will Olivia see me?"
Niklos swung the door wide. "She'd have my skin if I kept you out. Welcome back, Captain." He kept his smile wide, although once Drosos stepped into the light of the vestibule, Niklos was shocked to see him.
"Are you certain?" Drosos asked. He had aged; there were threads of white in his dark hair, and the fretwork of lines around his eyes was much deeper. He was both thinner and softer. His nails were ragged.
"Of course," said Niklos. "Great gods, Captain, you must have a very poor opinion of my mistress if you think she is as feckless as all that."
"I never…" Drosos began seriously, then broke off. "It isn't wise to know me. I am in disgrace."
"Given those in disgrace," Niklos said lightly, "I think it must be excellent company. Come with me. Olivia is in her library." He did not add that in the last month she had removed and hidden over sixty books that were no longer permitted within the walls of Konstantinoupolis. "She will be delighted that you're here." As he spoke he led the way down the hall, indicating a new fresco as they went. "It's almost finished."
"The martyrdom of Saints Adrian; that's Natalia there, with his hand after they burned him." Drosos pointed to the anaemic figure of a young woman with a haloed hand in hers.
"The artist has also done work for the Censor, so Olivia was confident that it was acceptable to hire him for this work. It's not always safe to choose someone who's unknown." He reached the door to the library and paused. "Do you want me to announce you, or would you rather do that yourself?"
Drosos hesitated. "Let me do it. If she's angry, she'll want us to be private."
"She won't be angry," Niklos promised him, his sympathy going out to the Captain.
Drosos shrugged. With a lift of his jaw he dismissed Niklos, but it took him the length of several deep breaths to work up his courage to lift the latch. At last he opened the door, stepped inside and leaned back, closing it.
Olivia was seated at a low table, an ancient scroll rolled open on the narrow table in front of her. She had her long, fawn-colored hair held back with a wide silk ribbon, and she was dressed in Roman palla and stola, both of a soft muted green. As she heard the door close, she called out without turning her head, "What is it, Niklos?"
"It isn't Niklos," Drosos answered, his voice not much more than a whisper. The sight of her was so wonderful it almost hurt him to watch her.
She turned very slowly, her hazel eyes widening as she looked at him. "Drosos." Carefully she rolled the scroll, always looking at him as she did. Then, when this was set aside, she rose, lifting her arms toward him. "Magna Mater, you are come at last!"
Drosos moved slowly, his somber expression giving way to a faint smile as he reached her. Lingeringly he touched her face with the ends of his fingers. "God and the Prophets," he whispered as he gathered her into his arms.
They stood together, hardly moving, saying nothing with words; their bodies spoke with other voices in silent eloquence. When he finally let her go, Drosos said, "Olivia, I…"