Mary Reed - Eight for Eternity

John nodded. “You don’t take the idea seriously?”

“Certainly not! Father doesn’t want to be emperor any more than this little horse does. I think it would kill him!” She spoke lightly but immediately bit her lower lip.

“You understand that you are here so that no one can force your father to change his mind?”

“I don’t know why we couldn’t stay in apartments at the Daphne Palace. Wouldn’t we be safer there? We weren’t spying on the emperor.”

“Did anyone say he suspected you?”

Julianna looked down at the stone horse. When she spoke it was to change the subject. “At least at the Daphne I had some friends to talk to. Do you suppose Justinian would mind if Antonina visited me?”

“You know Antonina?”

“Oh yes. Very well.”

“She’s hardly your age. She’s a friend of Theodora, isn’t she? And older than the empress.”

Julianna looked back at John. “Antonina and I have a lot in common. She’s as fond of horses as I am. Her father was a charioteer. She’s taught me a lot.” She scowled. “You’re just like father. You think I’m a child.”

“We had better get out of the garden,” John said. “It’s getting cold.” The truth was he needed to think of Julianna as a child because when he didn’t she reminded him too much of the past. “I’ll ask Justinian if Antonina can visit,” he added.

Julianna followed him back into the dining room. He pulled the screen shut against the rising wind.

“Thank you,” Julianna said. She brushed a burr off the front of her tunic. “And please accept my thanks for your hospitality toward my family.”

Felix began to lose his nerve when he reached the top of the low marble tiers encircling the terrace outside the Hall of the Nineteen Couches. He stopped and took a deep breath. Why would a woman like Antonina invite him here?

Because she was the same sort of woman as her friend Theodora? A woman who shared the empress’ malicious and often sanguinary sense of humor?

It was time for the assignation. The last pale rose of sunset had darkened to imperial purple and then black over the wall of the Hippodrome. All around the dark, blocky masses of palace buildings loomed up toward the starry sky. They reminded him of long ago scouting expeditions amongst the crags of the Isaurian mountains. More exhilarating than guarding the emperor and probably less dangerous.

Felix was not in the habit of turning down invitations from attractive women. Besides, he argued to himself, it might be dangerous to refuse the whim of a powerful patrician.

He exhaled and started down the tiers. The tramp of his newly cleaned boots echoed loudly.

In the dimness, the Hall of the Nineteen Couches was a long, black escarpment. The limited portion of the palace grounds Felix could see was mostly dark. A torch flared beneath a colonnade. There was a light behind the latticed window of the Octagon atop the Daphne. Another light shone from a window at the far end of the hall.

Was Antonina waiting there? Or someone else?

He crossed the terrace. At first he thought the covered passageway leading into the hall had been left unguarded. A soldier stepped out into his path.

He drew his sword. Then realized it was only the statue of a former emperor, emerging from the shadows as his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom.

The interior of the hall felt colder than the gardens outside. The curtains separating the reception area from the dining space were open, allowing him to look down the entire length of the building. He might have been in a high, narrow subterranean chamber. A gargantuan mithraeum. He could barely make out the shadowy shape of the imperial table in the center. Other tables sat near the walls, each surrounded by couches where diners could recline in the ancient Roman manner seldom followed these days.

The only illumination came from several candles on a table in the far corner of the hall. Felix walked warily toward the trembling lights, keeping to the middle of the room. As he drew near he saw that Antonina had kept their appointment.

She reclined on a red upholstered couch which perched on gilded gryphon’s feet. Her own feet pulled up under the lavender billows of her silk robes were bare, judging from the dainty black slippers sitting on the mosaic floor beside a taloned paw. A gold circlet encrusted with pearls held her unruly blonde hair lightly in check. Strands of larger pearls encircled her neck and fell across her bodice. The delicate pearl cascades of her earrings swung lazily as she turned her face toward him.

“Felix! You have come after all. You are a courageous man.”

“Should I be afraid to meet you?” His voice had a hollow ring in the dark, empty space.

“Of course not. But I can tell from the way you approach that Narses told you who I am. That nasty little eunuch has spoiled my surprise. Put your sword away. Do you always approach ladies with your weapon drawn?”

Felix had forgotten he was holding his sword. He slipped it back into its scabbard. “A common soldier shouldn’t be meeting a lady of the court alone like this,” he muttered, glancing around. He couldn’t see any guards or servants but surely they were observing from somewhere nearby, from a doorway concealed in shadows or from behind one of the hall’s silver columns. Antonina said nothing nor did her expression reveal anything. “Then again a common soldier cannot very well disobey a lady’s command,” Felix added.

“You call yourself a common soldier? I thought you were great friends with Narses.”

“Does one such as Narses have true friends?”

Antonina laughed. “Well said, Felix. Sit down now.”

A bare arm emerged from the loose silken garments as she reached out to pat the couch that had been pulled up, head to head with her own.

Felix followed orders. As he moved toward the couch the air turned warm. For an irrational moment he imagined the heat was radiating from the silk clad woman, then he spotted a tripod brazier filled with embers.

He was not sure how to arrange himself on a couch. More often than not he ate while seated on a stool. Propped up awkwardly on one elbow he felt like a fool and exceedingly uncomfortable. The sheathed sword dug into his side.

At Antonina’s behest he willingly filled his goblet from one of the two golden carafes on the table, emptied it, and filled it again. His gaze wandered to an enormous bowl filled with delicacies. He took another gulp of wine.

“Do you know, Felix, the first time I saw you I knew we must meet in a more intimate setting. How has this magnificent bear got into the gardens, I said to myself. I was afraid if I were not careful he might devour me. Yet I was not entirely displeased by the prospect.”

She giggled.

For a long time neither spoke. Felix did not know what to say and Antonina did not offer assistance. She seemed content to stare at him, disconcertingly. Her eyes, which Felix remembered as being blue, glittered like pools of fire in the candle light. They looked enormous. He drank mechanically. The wine helped a little. It made everything feel like a dream. The flickering light accentuated the crows feet around Antonina’s eyes. She was older than Felix, in addition to being far above his station.

“My father was a charioteer,” Antonina finally said, as if reading his thought. “My mother was an actress. How thrilled they would have been to see their daughter dining at the palace with a member of the imperial guards.”

“But you are a lady now and a friend of the empress.” What could that mean for him, Felix found himself wondering. The lover of a confidante of the empress could hardly remain a lowly excubitor, could he? And the husband of such a woman would certainly be a general.