To Love Again - Bertrice Small [160]
“Do not blame her, it is my fault!” Casia burst out. She was near to tears, a state that surprised the men who knew her.
Aspar’s stern face softened a bit. “Tell me the truth of this, my love,” he said, turning to Cailin. “You have never lied to me.”
“Nor will I now, my lord Aspar,” Cailin said quietly. “Yesterday at the games I thought I recognized one of the gladiators. I confided in Casia, and she felt we should come to Villa Maxima that I might see this man at a closer range in order to determine if I did indeed know him.”
“She was reluctant to come,” Casia broke in. “She was concerned if someone saw us, it would reflect badly on you, my lord.”
“You need not defend me, Casia,” Cailin chided her friend gently. “My lord knows my character well.”
“And when you saw this gladiator close up, Cailin Drusus, was he indeed the man you thought he was?” Aspar asked her.
“Yes, my lord, he was, I fear. The man who is known as the Saxon is my husband, Wulf Ironfist,” Cailin said, and while the two men were absorbing that startling revelation, she went on to explain what had happened to herself and to Casia at the hands of Justin Gabras.
When she had concluded her tale, Casia broke in quickly. “The Hun did not have me, my prince. He has, it seems, a very weak head for wine. My plan was to get him drunk and then hit him upon the head, but three goblets of Jovian’s best Cyprian brew, and he was snoring like a wild boar with a bellyful of acorns and roots.”
It was obvious that Basilicus wanted very much to believe Casia. Relief spread over his features when Wulf Ironfist said, “She is probably speaking the truth, my lord. I have lived with the Hun these months past, and it is true that he has no head for wine.”
“And you, Cailin Drusus,” Aspar said. “Did you get the Saxon drunk, too?” She saw the pain in his eyes, which he strove to hide from the others, and vowed silently that Gabras would not have this victory over Flavius Aspar; nor would she hurt him with this particular truth.
“Wulf and I spent the night talking, my lord. There was much for us to talk about, was there not, Wulf?”
The Saxon realized what she was doing, and wondered if Flavius Aspar would believe the lie that he now gave voice to in her support.
“Cailin speaks the truth, my lord. There was much unresolved between us.”
“They are lying!” Justin Gabras shouted. “It is impossible for him to have spent the night with her and not made love to her!”
“Am I some green boy, you snake, that I must poke my sword in every pretty sheath that comes along? To call me a liar, Gabras, is to seek death!”
Justin Gabras paled and took a step backward.
“You’ve done your mischief, Gabras,” Prince Basilicus said. “Now get you gone from here, and if one word of this scandal should reach my ears, I will personally see that you meet a most unpleasant end. You have no real friends in Byzantium, and if you want to see your child born, then you will forget what you have done.”
“Is he not to be punished?” Casia demanded, relieved not to be in her lover’s bad graces. “Look at the trouble he has caused!”
Basilicus laughed. “He is married to Flacilla Strabo. That is punishment enough, I think.”
As Justin Gabras turned to leave, Phocas Maxima stepped from the shadows. “A moment, my lord Gabras. There is the matter of the bill. I think I should be wise to settle it today. You have made powerful enemies here this morning, and the span of your life is no longer certain.” He took the man’s arm and led him off.
Jovian, looking at the five people in his atrium, wondered what was to come next. He had not long to wait.
Aspar took Cailin’s hand in his. “Tell me,” he said.
“I must go home to Britain, my lord,” she said quietly, but there were tears in her eyes when she said it.
“How easily you leave me, my love,” he said bitterly.
“No,” Cailin told him. “It is not easy for me to leave you, for