Part 13 (1/2)
did not appear to enjoy it.”
Oh my poor love, Ithought, turning to cradle his head against my breast,you are tempered too finely to be used for this butchery .
”When we had won the city... the other officers took women,” he whispered then. ”I could not do it, not with all that death around.”
I tightened my grip, unreasonably pleased, whatever the reason, that he had been faithful. It was not something I had a right to ask, but it certainly, I thought with secret amus.e.m.e.nt, explained the intensity of his need.
”You are life...” murmured Constantius.
His lips brushed one nipple. I could feel both of them harden at his touch, and the rekindling of the fire between my thighs.
”I have seen so much killing... let me make life in you...”
His hands moved upon my body with a deliberation and a need more compelling than his first compulsion, and I found myself opening to his touch more deeply than ever before. At the ultimate moment he rose above me and I saw his features by firelight, focused in ecstasy.
”The sun!” he gasped. ”The sun s.h.i.+nes at midnight!”
At that moment my own completion came upon me, and I could not tell him that it was only the light of the bonfire they had kindled to celebrate the Emperor's victory.
In the silent hour before dawn, the only time, at this season, that it was truly cool, I rose to relieve myself. When I returned from the privy, I stood for a time, gazing out of the window and enjoying the touch of the chill air on my bare skin. The fire in the forum had burned out, and sleep, that next to death was the greatest of conquerors, had overwhelmed the revellers. Even Hylas, who had roused when I did, had lain down again.
A sound from the bed made me turn. Constantius was clutching at the bedclothes, groaning. As I watched, tears squeezed from beneath his tight-shut eyelids and began to roll down his cheeks. I hurried back and lay down beside him, winding him in my arms. Once, I thought, I had been the one who had the nightmares, but since I left Avalon I did not dream any more.
”It's all right,” I murmured, knowing it was the tone that would reach him, not the words. ”You are all right now-I am here...”
”The sun s.h.i.+nes at midnight-” he groaned. ”The temple burns! Apollo! Apollo is weeping!”
I soothed him, wondering if this was something he had seen on the campaign. The Emperor's personal deity was the sun-G.o.d-I could not believe he would willingly destroy a sanctuary, but I had heard that in warfare the destruction sometimes got out of hand.
”Hush, my love, and open your eyes-it is morning, do you see? Apollo is driving his chariot above the rim of the world-”
With lips and hands I set out to awaken him, and was rewarded presently when he quickened to my touch once more. This time our loving was slow and sweet. By the time we had finished, Constantius was awake once more, and smiling.
”Ah, my queen, I have brought gifts for you-” Naked, he padded over to the bag that someone had brought while we slept and set just inside the door. ”I meant to array you in this for our first night back together, but you are more beautiful clad only in your night-dark hair...'
He rummaged in the bag, and pulled out something wrapped in unbleached linen. As the rough cloth fell away, a blaze of colour smote the eye. Constantius shook out a silk chiton dyed the true, imperial purple, and held it out to me.
”My love, it is too splendid!” I exclaimed, but I took the garment, wondering at the fine weave of the fabric, and slipped it over my head. I s.h.i.+vered as the silk caressed my skin and swayed, feeling the soft folds mould themselves to my body.
”By the G.o.ds, purple becomes you!” he exclaimed, his glance kindling.
”But I can never wear it,” I reminded him.
”Not outside,” he agreed, ”but in our bedchamber you are my Empress and my Queen!”
And in bed or out, you, my beloved, are my Emperor! I thought, admiring the powerful balance of his naked body, but even here I dared not speak those words aloud.
Constantius put his arm around me and drew me to the east-facing window. I sighed, replete with loving, feeling in my body a sense of fulfilment I had not known before. Surely, I thought then, I must come away from such a night as this had been with child.
Together we stood watching as the sun, like a victorious emperor, lifted above the horizon and banished night's mysteries from the world.
CHAPTER NINE.
AD 272.
In Britannia, September had been a month of misty suns.h.i.+ne, but the forum at Naissus blazed with light beneath a brilliant blue sky. From the shade of the awning that had been raised to shelter the families of the imperial officers I could feel the waves of heat rising from the cobbles of the square. I had hoped, when Constantius told me of his new posting, that the plains that bordered the Danuvius in Dacia, being farther north, would be cooler than Bithynia, but in the summer, this inland city seemed even hotter than Drepanum, which had at least sometimes got a breeze from the sea. I could feel perspiration gathering beneath the fillet I wore to hide the crescent moon tattooed upon my brow. I took a deep breath, hoping I would not faint. Three months into pregnancy, I was still sick in the mornings and at intervals throughout the day.
Perhaps it was hunger that was making me feel so light-headed, I thought then, for I had not dared to eat before the ceremony, or perhaps it was the heavy scent of the incense. Two priests swung censers beside the altar; with each swing, more smoke swirled into the air. The haze drifted like a gauzy curtain before the columns that formed the western side of the square where the ground fell away towards the River Navissus. Beyond the tiled rooftops, a gleam of water, fields gold with stubble and low blue hills wavered in the heated air, insubstantial as a dream.
”Are you unwell?” Someone spoke nearby.
I blinked, and focused on the bony, dark face of the woman beside me. With an effort I remembered that she was called Vitellia, the wife of one of Constantius's fellowProtectores .
”I will be,” I answered, flus.h.i.+ng. ”I'm not ill, it's just-” I felt myself colouring agin.
”Ah, of course. I have borne four children, and I was sick as a hound-b.i.t.c.h with three of them-not that dogs generally have morning sickness-” she added, large teeth showing as she smiled. ”The first one I bore when we were stationed in Argentorate, the second and the third in Alexandria, and my last boy was born in Londinium.”
I gazed at her in respect. She had followed the Eagles all over the Empire. ”I come from Britannia...” I said then.
”I liked it,” Vitellia gave a decisive nod, setting her earrings swinging. A little golden fish winked from her breast, suspended from a fine chain. ”We still have a house there, and perhaps we'll return when my husband retires.”
The procession was almost at an end. The flute players had spread out to one side of the altar, and the six maidens, having scattered their flowers, took up their position on the other. The priestess who walked behind them halted before the altar and cast a handful of barley into the fire that burned there, calling on Vesta, who lived in the flame.
”I had heard you were from the Isle,” said Vitellia. ”Your man came back from exile there and did so well in the Syrian campaign he's been made a tribune.”
I nodded, appreciating her matter-of-fact acceptance of my somewhat ambiguous marital status. Since Constantius's promotion, some of the women who had pointedly ignored me before had become gus.h.i.+ngly respectful, but Vitellia struck me as the sort of woman who would behave the same to a fish-wife as to an empress. The thought turned my gaze back to the forum.
The Emperor presided from a shaded dais behind the altar, with his senior officers around him. Seated on his throne, Aurelian looked like the statue of a G.o.d, but when Constantius presented me I had been surprised to find him a small man, with thinning hair and tired eyes.
Automatically, my gaze moved to the end of the line where Constantius himself was standing, just at the edge of the shade. When he moved his breastplate caught the sunlight. I blinked-for a moment he had seemed to stand in an aureole of light. But of course, I thought, smiling, he always looked like a G.o.d to me. The armour flashed again as he straightened, and I saw that the priests were coming through the archway with the sacrificial bull. The animal was white, its horns and neck garlanded with flowers. It moved slowly; no doubt it had been drugged to prevent any inauspicious struggle from marring the ceremony. The procession came to a halt before the altar and the priest began to intone the prayers. The bull stilled, its head drooping as if the droning incantation had been a sleep spell.
A second priest moved forward, hard muscle bunching in his arms as he lifted the pole-axe. There was a moment of stillness, then it blurred downward. The resounding 'thunk' as it struck the animal's skull reverberated from the columns. But the ox was already sinking to its knees. As it fell, one priest caught its horns, holding them long enough for the other to plunge the knife into the beast's throat and jerk crossways.
Blood rolled across the stones in a red tide. Several of the men who were watching averted their eyes, crossing themselves in the Christian sign against evil.It is only evil for the bull , I thought ruefully,or perhaps not even for him, if he consented to be the offering . Surely the Christians, who wors.h.i.+pped a sacrificed G.o.d, knew that death could be holy. It seemed rather small-minded of them to deny that sanct.i.ty to all religions but their own.
Holy it might be, but as the sickly-sweet scent of blood overwhelmed the incense on the air I felt my gorge rise. I drew my veil across my face, and sat very still, breathing carefully. It would be impolitic as well as unlucky to disgrace myself at the ceremony. A pungent whiff of herbs cleared my head and I opened my eyes.
Vitellia was holding out a spray of lavender and rosemary. I took another deep breath and thanked her.
”Is it your first child?”
”The first that I have carried this long,” I answered.
”May G.o.d's Holy Mother bless you then, and bring you safe to term,” said Vitellia, looking back towards the forum with a frown.
It was not a scene to enjoy, I thought, but I did not quite understand her disapproval. I tried to remember if her husband had been one of the men who crossed himself when the bull was killed.