To Love Again - Bertrice Small [142]
Casia stayed at Villa Mare for three days. The day before she left, Arcadius arrived with a wagon in which sat the pedestal for the young Venus and several beefy helpers who were to move the statue from the studio to its place in the garden. The two young women watched, fascinated, as the work was carried out, hard pressed not to laugh at the sculptor who fussed and fumed at the workmen as they went about their task. Finally the young Venus was settled upon her pink and white marble base, angled so that she was facing the sea. Arcadius heaved a great sigh of relief. “Well?” he demanded. “What think you?”
Casia was visibly impressed, and said so. Cailin simply kissed the sculptor on the cheek, causing him to flush with pleasure.
“It is marvelous,” he agreed with them.
“Stay with us tonight,” Cailin said.
“Yes,” Casia echoed. “You can return to the city in the morning in my litter with me, Arcadius. ‘Twill be a far nicer trip than if you ride back in the wagon with your workmen, who smell of onions and sweat.”
Arcadius shuddered at her rather graphic but accurate description. “I will remain,” he said, and instructed his foreman to take the men and return to Constantinople. Then turning to the women, he told them, “The gladiators arrived yesterday. They paraded through the city in full regalia, as if that were necessary to stimulate interest in the games. The populace is in a frenzy already. I cannot tell you how many women fainted at the sight of the champion. He is frankly the most magnificent piece of male flesh I have ever seen. It would be a pity if he were killed, but then, he has prevailed so far.”
Casia and Arcadius, city people to the bone, chattered on throughout the evening, filling Cailin’s ears with all manner of gossip. Though it was amusing, she was frankly relieved to be able to seek her quiet bed that night and to bid her guests farewell in the morning. She wondered if she would indeed have to involve herself in the affairs of the court once she and Aspar were married. Perhaps Arcadius was wrong.
In the afternoon, Cailin swam in the still warm sea, and lay naked on the beach, drying in the autumn sun. The peace was wonderful, and she reveled in it. She fell asleep, and when she awoke, she was filled with new energy and was suddenly eager to have Aspar home.
Chapter 13
Aspar returned to Villa Mare late the next evening and immediately took Cailin to bed. In the early morning, when they had sated themselves of their desire for each other, they lay talking.
“I arrived in Constantinople yesterday afternoon,” he told her, “and reported immediately to Leo. The difficulties in Adrianople have been overcome. There is peace in that city once more, although for how long, I cannot say. I have little patience with those who argue over creed and clan. What fools they are!”
“They are most of the world,” Cailin said, “but I agree with you, my love. Most people like to think life a deep and difficult puzzle, but it is not, I believe. We are bound by one thread—our humanity. If we would but put our differences aside, and weave the cloth of our fate with that one thread, there would be no more differences between us.”
“You are too young to be so wise,” he teased her, kissing her lightly, and then he said, “Would you like to know my reward for this recent service to Byzantium?” He smiled into her face, his brown eyes twinkling mischievously at her.
Cailin’s heart began to race. She didn’t even dare to voice the question. She simply nodded.
“You are to be baptized on November first by the patriarch himself in the private chapel of the imperial palace,” Aspar told her. “Then the patriarch will marry us. Leo and Verina will stand as our formal witnesses. You will have to choose a Byzantine name, of course.”
She gasped. It was true, then. “Anna-Marie,” she managed to say. “Anna for your good wife who was the mother of your children, and Marie for the mother of Jesus.