Harry Turtledove - Justinian

Eudokia set a golden ring on my finger, its bezel showing Christ joining a couple together in marriage. I gave her an iron ring in return; a golden wedding belt waited at the nuptial chamber. George took the crowns of marriage off us and handed them to Myakes, who, despite my mother's grumbles and Stephen's sniffs, served as my groomsman. He hurried off to set them on the posts of the marriage bed for luck.

Once the crowns were off, George blessed us one last time, bent his head in silent prayer, and then, with an effort, straightened. "Justinian and Eudokia are wed," he said. "What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder."

After that, we paraded back to the great palace, to the cheers of the nobles and officials and officers who had filled the church of the Holy Wisdom, and to those of the common folk of Constantinople as well. No sooner were we out of the church than the epithalamia began. The farther we went, the louder and bawdier the wedding songs got. If Eudokia had not known what we would soon be doing- and, since she was a well-brought-up maiden, she might not have- she would have been left in little doubt by the time we got to the palace.

The wine was already flowing freely there; mimes and dancing girls entertained the guests. My mother being the only family I had left in the world, she and I and Eudokia went into an antechamber for the ceremony of removing the bride's veil. I had, of course, seen Eudokia's face before, but in theory I might not have.

Seeing my mother nod encouragement, Eudokia took off the veil. Under it, her cheeks were flushed, perhaps from the crisp breeze outside, perhaps from excitement, too. "My husband," she said, sounding proud of herself, as well she might have.

"My wife," I answered, and then added, "My beautiful wife." She looked down at the floor for modesty's sake- she had indeed been properly brought up. But she was smiling.

"God and the Virgin bless both of you, my children," my mother said.

I was not thinking of God at that moment, and of no virginity save my bride's. "Fix your veil again," I told Eudokia, "so I can lead you to the nuptial chamber." So I can make you truly my wife, was what I meant. As the white veil concealed her features once more, I thought she looked nervous, and wondered what, if anything, her mother had told her of what happens on a wedding night.

Everyone cheered when my mother and Eudokia and I came out, because everyone knew where Eudokia and I were going and what we would be doing once we got there. A good many people followed us down the hall, bawling out epithalamia on that very theme. Some were far more specific than any sung on our way back to the palace. I wondered what Eudokia made of such gleeful obscenity. Just before we reached the door to the bedchamber, she giggled. That seemed a good sign.

Even after we went inside and closed the door behind us, the loud, lewd racket went on. The bed had on it only a plain white linen sheet. On the posts, faithful Myakes had hung the marriage crowns. "Take off your veil," I said to Eudokia. "We're alone now." Soon she would take off more than the veil, but maybe she did not want to think about that yet.

And I still had to give her the marriage belt, which lay, wrapped in white silk, on a table by the bed. I unwrapped it. How the bright gold glittered!- twenty-one small medallions and two large ones on either side of the clasp showing Christ joining the right hands of bride and groom together. I carried the belt over to Eudokia and put it round her waist. It fit perfectly: a maidservant must have measured her for the jeweler. She looked down at herself and at the splendid ornament. "How beautiful," she whispered.

This was the first time I had touched any part of her but her hands. I let my own hands linger on her hips. "How beautiful," I said in an altogether different tone of voice.

She cast down her eyes once more- a modest bride indeed. But there is also a time when modesty should end, and that time had come. Leaving one hand where it was, I raised the other to her chin and tilted her face up to mine. She looked nervous but determined, which, under the circumstances, was as much as I could expect.

I quickly discovered she knew nothing about kissing of the sort in which a new groom and his bride are apt to engage. She learned fast, though. My own first instructions in these mysteries were close enough in time that I remembered them and used them as a guide in teaching her.

While we kissed, we clung to each other ever more tightly. My manhood rose. As it was pressed between us, she must have noticed, but she gave no sign that she did, perhaps again from modesty, perhaps because she simply did not know what to do. I took one of her hands in mine and guided it down there. She started to pull away when she felt the bulge, but I held her hand there.

"That is-" she said, and then stopped: half a statement, half a question in two words.

"Yes, it is," I answered, my voice full of what I would rather call enthusiasm than raw lust. I took my hand away; after a tiny hesitation, she left hers where I had put it. I nodded: another lesson learned. I needed both hands to undo the catch of the marriage belt. My fingers trembled as I worked it. "A pity to take this off so soon after putting it on you, but\a160…"

Then I had to step away from her for a moment, to set the belt on the table once more. When I came back to her, I began to undo the catches that held her wedding gown closed. She stood very still under my hands. I slid the gown down off her. It puddled at her feet. The small nipples on her breasts were tight and hard, more, no doubt, from nervousness than passion. I bent my mouth to them, first one, then the other. Her breath caught. "That feels-" Again, she did not finish, but she put on hand on the back of my head to keep me at what I was doing.

Presently, I pulled her drawers off her, so that she stood naked before me. "I am a lucky man today," I said, and smiled the smile I had been practicing since before the little Sklavinian girl took me into the storeroom.

Then it was my turn to divest myself of my robes. When I was through, Eudokia stared at me. I knew how women were made, and had learned from her nudity only the particulars of her body. In my nakedness she saw for the first time the generality of maleness. My erection stood out as straight as if I were about to fence with it.

"I'll try not to hurt you," I said, taking her hand and walking with her to the bed, "though it may, the first time." I spoke as if I knew in detail, wanting to make her feel easy, although, as I have said, the only virginity I knew was my own. Losing that had not hurt- by no means!

We lay down together. I did not go into her at once, but kissed her and caressed her with my hands. When I stroked her secret place, she sighed and her legs, which she had held tightly closed till then, opened of themselves. After a while, my mouth followed my hand. A maidservant had taught me that a year or so before- sucking the fig, she called it. She and several others had seemed to like it more than a hand stroking the same place, and so, by her little gasps, did Eudokia.

Without my asking, she took me in her hand, and laughed to feel me throb against her palm. Then, on hands and knees, I got up over her and guided myself inside her. She being wet, I went in easily- until, all at once, I was halted. Eudokia's face, which had been full of surprised delight, twisted in pain. She was indeed a maiden. I had not had any serious doubts on that score, but proving it was a relief.

"We must finish what we've begun," I said, and she nodded. I thrust with all my strength, and broke through the barrier. Eudokia did not cry out, but her breath hissed through her nostrils. I have heard soldiers make that sound when they take a wound. "Is it all right?" I asked after a moment. She nodded again. Slowly, I began to move inside her.