Being away in the east Flavius had been afforded only that one occasion in such company but it was enough to demonstrate to him the protocols: imperial grandeur was set to one side, everyone being encouraged to act as if the rank of the host did not exist, impossible to ignore of course, but it was a situation in which there could be a pretence that the life lived before Justinian’s elevation could be recalled and that nowhere applied more than in sexual licence.
Neither Justinian nor Theodora saw much virtue in fidelity; both had come to the present estate through a world of much moral laxity and had acquired habits and desires difficult to put aside. By the time Flavius returned from Dara the villa had been abandoned and such gatherings had moved to the palace, the original venue being unsafe for a highly unpopular emperor. Indeed the whole arrangement had been in abeyance due to the troubles Justinian was labouring under.
Now that the Nika riots, as they had come to be called, had killed off the bacillus of impeding revolt both Theodora and Justinian felt safe to revive these events at which the pious and God-fearing face the imperial couple presented to the world was cast aside in the confines of the imperial palace. It was ever in the nature of rulers to expect virtue from their subjects while paying no attention to such constraints themselves.
Emperors lived in an enclosed world and much effort was extended to ensure that what went on inside was not common knowledge without. There was a strata of courtiers who were aware, how could there not be, and there were servants. The former were as debauched as their rulers and thought of their purse if they were not. The latter were chosen for their discretion and there was always the threat of strangulation if it was suspected they were telling tales to the outside world.
Added to that, much was done to present a devout aspect. Justinian had recently set in train the rebuilding of the Church of St Sophia, to a design that would make it the greatest basilica in the world, rivalling and outdoing anything in Rome. Everyone looking at the plans was staggered by the dimensions: a good way to get on the right side of Justinian was to mention this building and praise him as the genius behind it. The architects did the work, the Emperor took the plaudits.
One of the things Flavius liked about his present dining companion was her amusing indiscretion. Though careful to whom she spoke she was wonderfully scabrous about the band of hangers-on that made up the immediate social circle of the imperial couple and not afraid either to describe herself as the greediest of them. In short, she made him laugh.
‘Why do I always seem to be seated next to you? This is the fourth time.’
Antonina raised a pair of already arched eyebrows. ‘Do you object?’
‘No, I am just curious. I observe that others move from neighbour to neighbour, we do not.’
‘The consequence being that it is to my bed that you retire. But if you would prefer another …?’
Flavius felt himself blush; Antonina was older than him and was much worldlier in so many ways — she had been married before and was now a widow with a young son — while she had shown in the bedchamber a wonderful ability to invoke in him a deep pleasure he had never before achieved. He had often been tempted to ask where she had learnt her dexterity but he feared the answer might distress him. Theodora had not been beyond multiple bed partners prior to marrying Justinian — he had been a party to it — and Antonina may well have behaved in the same manner.
He did not want that to be the case, not out of piousness but out of regard, in short he liked her. In any event, to take a moral position with a woman you had bedded more than once was the height of hypocrisy. Given she was a widow that was likely to be the source of her experience but there was another possibility: she came from a background not dissimilar to Theodora.
Antonina was the daughter of a successful charioteer, a member of the Blues whose luck had run out in the Hippodrome when a removed wheel, taken off by a competitor, saw him chucked from his chariot and thrown under the wheels of those following behind. Such men might make great fortunes but they came from lowly backgrounds, not the higher reaches of society, and so did she.
To even consider such things made Flavius feel like a scrub; who was he to judge anyone by their background? That was one area in which he fully supported Theodora. Let a man, or a woman for that matter, rise to the level their abilities would take them. No one had the right to prominence by mere birth.
‘Do you like me, Flavius?’
Caught in a welter of thoughts the reply was hurried. ‘Of course.’
A hand caressed his cheek. ‘I believe you, for you are not one to lie. In fact, I think you incapable of being deceitful.’
‘No man is that.’
‘Look down the table and what do you see?’
‘People taking their food and enjoying themselves. Servants pouring wine — and Justinian pondering, of course.’
‘Is he enjoying himself? He looks worried.’
‘Do not be fooled if you see a pensive expression, Justinian loves being emperor.’
‘I should not like it, would you?’
‘Not a question that requires an answer, since the opportunity would never arise.’
If it was implied that imperial protocol was set aside on these occasions it was never entirely true; when Justinian stood everyone followed suit, for to sit in the presence of a standing emperor was never to be allowed to anyone other than the seriously lame.
As a group they retired to another well-furnished chamber, with any number of couches on which the guests could disport themselves. There was wine and sweetmeats but no servants, for the double doors were shut behind them to ensure complete privacy. Theodora liked to play robust games, which over time became more and more risqué, often competitions which saw items of clothing being paid as forfeits.
In time, those couches would be used for various couplings and that was a situation Flavius Belisarius did not enjoy. Public copulation he found embarrassing and the same applied to the pleasure Justinian took in watching others perform. One of the other factors he liked about Antonina is that she had seen his discomfort and had taken care to rescue him, choosing a discreet moment when, unobserved, she could lead him from the chamber by a secret door to the suite of rooms Theodora had provided for her within the palace.
He woke the next morning feeling sated, and in the dawn light he sat up and took to examining the sleeping Antonina. Her greater years did not show; the skin of her face was still good, the flesh of her body firm and the cast of her mind seemed to him to be more youthful than mature. There is an innocence to a person asleep and even if they had made robust love during the night Antonina looked very much that in her slumbers.
Looking closer Flavius saw the full lips twitch slightly as a dream registered on her features. Strong nose, tightly fleshed chin and a swanlike neck leading to a fine bosom. His hand reached out to caress her breast which made her stir slightly and murmur. Next he pressed soft lips to her nipple, then a gently flicking tongue, which made her writhe and brought forth a moan of pleasure.
Sliding down Flavius pressed close to her to be rewarded by a willing companion who turned her body towards him, eyes still closed, a hand reaching out to take one of his buttocks and pull him close. Their coupling was not furious, it was slow and languid as befitted the time of day and, if it was possible that it could be so, it was even more pleasurable.
Later, in a shared bath, the way they spoke to each other seemed to him to take on a different dimension, not a pair who had come together to provide mutual gratification but a sort of intimacy he had never before felt. Then there was her son Photius, an engaging boy of twelve who seemed to accept him as a proxy for his dead father, a man he had been too much an infant to know, though the lad was wary of his strict mother.