“Fortuna is not a goddess who has been kind to me of late,” Cailin told him, handing the melon to Isis to split.
“She smiled quite broadly on you last night, my dear,” Jovian said archly. “Flavius Aspar, Byzantium’s most powerful man, was in the audience.”
“I thought the emperor was your most powerful man,” Cailin replied.
“Flavius Aspar is the empire’s most famed general. He has personally chosen the last two emperors. Both the late emperor, Marcian, and this emperor, Leo, owe their positions to Aspar.”
“And what has your general to do with me, my lord?” Cailin took a slice of melon offered her by Isis. It was wonderfully sweet, and the juice ran down her chin. She flicked out her tongue to catch it.
“I have sold you to him,” Jovian said, biting into his own piece of the ripe fruit. “He paid fifteen hundred gold solidi for you, my dear. Did I not tell you that your value would increase?”
“You also told me that I should be able to purchase my freedom eventually,” Cailin said bitterly. “Did I not say I should trust no one? But you swore to me that you could be trusted, my lord!”
“Dear girl,” Jovian protested, “we did not solicit your sale. He came to us after last night’s performance and said he wished to purchase you. He is truly the most powerful man in the empire, Cailin. There was no way my brother and I could refuse him and continue to prosper. To deny Aspar what he wanted would have been tantamount to suicide.” He patted her arm. “Do not be afraid, my dear. He will be kind to you. I do not think the general has ever kept a mistress. When he wished to have a woman other than his wife, he would come here, or to some other respectable house such as ours. You should feel honored.”
Cailin glared at him. “How will I ever get back to Britain to take my revenge on Antonia Porcius now?” she demanded furiously.
“A clever woman—and I do believe you are clever, Cailin—would see the great opportunity offered her. Aspar will lavish gifts upon you if you please him. He may even free you one day,” Jovian said.
“I have none of the skills of a courtesan,” Cailin told him. “Those lessons were to come later. All I am capable of doing is.…” She flushed angrily. “Well, you know what I can do, my lord Jovian, for you conceived the Hades I have been living in for the past weeks! Will not your powerful general believe he has been cheated when he finds out that the woman he bought last night is not at all skilled in the arts of erotica?”
“I do not think it is a trained courtesan he wants, Cailin,” Jovian told her. “He is a strange man, Aspar. For all his military skills he is a very kind person in a very cruel world. Make no mistake about him, however. He is a man used to being obeyed. He can be hard.”
At that moment Phocas came bustling into Cailin’s small chamber. “The messenger has arrived with the gold,” he said, attempting to restrain his glee. “I have counted it, and it is all there to the last solidus, brother dear. Have you told Cailin? Is she ready to leave us now?”
“I must wash my hands and face first,” Cailin answered for Jovian, “and then I am ready to leave, my lord Phocas.”
There was nothing else left to say. Isis brought a basin of water, and Cailin removed all traces of the melon from herself. Then bidding Isis farewell, she was escorted by the two brothers to the courtyard, where a litter was waiting. She wore a simple white chiton belted with a gold rope. The sleeves of the garment flowed gracefully to her mid-arms. Her feet were bare, for she had needed no sandals within Villa Maxima, and none had been given her.
Casia came out into the courtyard and said, “You cannot allow her to leave without these.” With a small smile she fastened amethyst, pearl, and gold dangles in Cailin’s ears. “Every woman deserves some jewelry. The gods go with you, my little friend. I do not think you realize how fortunate you truly are.”
“Thank you, Casia,” Cailin exclaimed. “I have never had lovelier earrings than these; and thank you for the rest.”
“Be yourself, and you will succeed admirably with him,” Casia promised.
“I will call on you soon,” Jovian told Cailin brightly, and helped her into the litter. “Take Casia’s advice. She knows.”
Cailin felt a momentary panic as the litter was lifted and the bearers moved off through the gates of Villa Maxima. Once again she was facing the unknown. It seemed so odd after the quiet life she had lived in Britain that within the space of two years her fate had taken such twists and turns. Cailin leaned back and closed her eyes as they hurried through the city. At the Golden Gate the litter stopped in the line of traffic waiting to be passed through. She heard a rough voice say, “And what have we here?”
“This woman belongs to General Aspar, and is going to Villa Mare,” came the curt reply.
“I’ll just have a look,” the voice answered, and the litter’s diaphanous draperies were yanked aside.
Cailin stared coldly at the soldier peering in.
The draperies fell back. “She belongs to old Aspar?” the guard at the gate said, whistling admiringly. “What a beauty! Pass on!”
The litter was picked up again, and moved forward. Cailin peeped between the draperies after a while. The road stretched across a flat, fertile plain with wheat fields, orchards, and olive groves along both sides. Beyond lay the sea. She could not see it, but she could smell it, the sharp, pungent tang of the salt air tickling her nose. She was beginning to feel better. The sea was a means of escape, and now that she was free of Villa Maxima, she would never again have to degrade herself as she had the last five weeks.
They moved along at a smooth pace, and then she felt the bearers slowing, turning. Peeking out again, she saw they had passed through an iron gate and were going down a tree-lined lane. She was in the country again, she thought, relieved to be free of the noise and stink of Constantinople. The bearers stopped and the litter was set down again. The curtains were drawn aside and a hand extended to her. Cailin stepped out to discover the hand belonged to an elderly white-haired man of small stature.
“Good day, lady. I am Zeno, the majordomo at Villa Mare. The general has bid me welcome you. This is your home, and we are all at your command.” He bowed politely, his worn face breaking into a friendly smile.
“Where is your master, Zeno?” she asked him.
“I have not seen the general in several months, lady. He sent a messenger early this morning with his orders for you,” Zeno replied.
“Is he expected soon?” Cailin asked. This was odd.
“He has not informed me so, lady,” Zeno told her. “Come in now and take some refreshment. The day is growing warm, and the sun is very hot for late June. The city, I can but imagine, was a tinderbox.”
Cailin followed after him. “I do not like the city,” she said. “The noise and the dirt are appalling.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “I have served the general for many years, but when he offered to make me his majordomo at Villa Mare, I kissed his feet in gratitude. The older I get, the less tolerance I seem to have, lady. You are not a citizen of Byzantium?”
“I am a Briton,” Cailin told him, and accepted a goblet of chilled wine from a smiling servant.