A Flame in Byzantium

He entered the house by the side door and was informed that Antonina was waiting to speak with him, for she required his help in planning her next gathering. It was a simple matter, he decided, to make sure he remained an essential part of the household. It would satisfy both Antonina and Panaigios, which in turn would eventually satisfy Simones himself.

* * *

A letter from Pope Sylvestros to the Bishop of the Church of the Patriarchs.

To the most reverend, sanctified and august superiors and the Bishop, Pope Sylvestros submits this most humble request on the Evangelical Feast in the Lord's Year 546.

From my prayers and other devotions, it has come to me that there are those in Italy who yearn for the consolation of true religion, and who toil under the burdens of war and apostasy. For that reason, I am petitioning you to permit me to travel to Italy to undertake the comfort of these unfortunates. It is not unlikely that I will remain some time among those who need me, and who will be grateful to have the opportunity to find the solace of faith.

I am known to several of the sea captains who ply the waters between here and Ostia, and it would not be a great difficulty for me to secure passage with one or another of them. This will make my travels of little cost to the Church as well as providing yet another chance for me to reach those who are usually deprived of the offices of faith, for the captains would permit me to preach to the crew and anyone traveling with them to Italy.

We have heard of the losses and disgraces suffered by our troops facing the forces of Totila, and it may be that the presence of one of true religion might inspire courage and greater dedication among the soldiers so that they will be moved to battle with more determination for the saving of the city of Roma as well as the rest of the countryside.

Whatever your decision, I bow my head to your wisdom and your choice, and I profess myself wholly accepting of anything you permit me to do.

In the name of the Savior, the

Father and the Sacred Spirit,

Pope Sylvestros

Church of the Patriarchs

7

By sundown the heat of the day faded and the first slow night breeze moved over the Black Sea to Konstantin-oupolis, its light touch heralding the coming darkness. The voices of bells brazen as the western sky called a farewell to the sun; the shouts and bustle from the wharves and markets gave way to the drone of chants from the churches.

For Drosos, this was the familiar rhythm of home, one that he noticed only because he had so recently returned from the chaos of Italy. That campaign was still fresh in his mind, and often he had to remind himself that it was behind him. One thing he treasured from Italy waited for him now; he smiled as he trod up the gentle hill to the house where Olivia lived. It was his second visit since his return to Konstantinoupolis three weeks ago, and this time he hoped that their meeting would be more than the formal ritual that society required. His memory burned from the three nights they had spent together at her villa outside the walls of Roma, and he hungered now for more of her.

Niklos opened the door to him, saluting instead of making a reverence. 'Welcome back, Captain.'

Grinning, Drosos returned the salute. 'I am happy to be here, Niklos.' He glanced around the vestibule and saw no sign of other guests. 'What company this evening?'

'Just you, Captain,' said Niklos with a knowing look.

'For the entire evening?' He was a bit surprised at the majordomo's bluntness.

'For the entire evening,' Niklos confirmed, adding, 'My mistress waits for you in the garden.'

'Will you take me there?' He could find his way himself, but it would be taking a liberty that could easily be thought a serious breach of good conduct. 'You, or one of the household slaves.'

'I will take you,' said Niklos, indicating the hallway they should use and following a pace behind Drosos.

'How is your mistress?' Drosos inquired, attempting to keep the tone of the evening properly reserved.

'She misses you, Captain,' said Niklos, his candor putting aside the practiced phrases that Drosos expected.

'I have missed her,' said Drosos, aware that it was not correct for him to discuss Olivia with her bondsman.

Niklos gave Drosos an understanding nod. 'You wonder that I should say this to you, that I know so much about my mistress? It is because I have been with Olivia Clemens for a long time, and as her bondsman and majordomo, I know many things about her. She confides in me and has done so for many years.' They had passed the dining room and Niklos indicated the small supper laid out for the Captain. 'Refreshments are waiting for you whenever you wish for them.'

'Not yet, I think,' said Drosos, his appetite whetted for something other than food.

'No,' agreed Niklos, and opened the door to the garden.

Olivia, swathed in soft olive-green silk shot with silver, rose from her low couch as Drosos came toward her, her hand extended to him, her lyre set aside. 'Welcome, Captain.'

The polite compliments died on his tongue as he touched her; his eyes darkened with emotion and he made a deep reverence to her. 'Olivia.'

Her smile was warm and lucid as sunlight. 'How glad I am you are here.' Her paenula whispered and clung as she moved. 'It has been too long.'

'Much too long,' he said, his senses almost overwhelmed by her presence.

'It pleases me that you feel as I do.' She turned to Niklos. 'I will call you in a while.'

'Very good, my mistress,' he said, withdrawing and closing the door, leaving Olivia and Drosos alone with the lengthening shadows and the first scent of jasmine.

Drosos was used to much more complicated preliminaries, and he stood uncertainly, baffled by the directness Olivia used. 'How is it with you?'

'Better now you are here.' She sank back onto her couch and indicated the place beside her. 'Come, Drosos; join me.'

Drosos did not move for the space of two long breaths, and then, very slowly and joyously, he moved to her side. He put his hand over hers, letting them rest together. 'The other time I was here,' he said quietly, 'I wondered if you would grant me this…'

She touched his face just above his short-clipped soldier's beard. 'Why would I not?'

'It has been a while.' He stopped and went on with difficulty. 'You have been alone here, and you might have found another you preferred to me.' His last few words came quickly and he could not bring himself to meet her eyes.

'Drosos,' she said and waited until he turned to her. 'I have not found anyone I prefer to you, not in many years, certainly not since I have been here.' She reached out to her lyre, the strings murmuring under her fingers.

He listened to the sound, his mind drifting with it. There was a stillness around him that was as tantalizing as an embrace. He was afraid to break it with words, afraid that he would lose the joy that filled him. Finally he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm: he felt her lips brush his shoulder through the fabric of his dalmatica.

For some little time neither of them moved. The air around them was as quiet as they were, suspended in breathlessness and anticipation. Then a finger of air stirred the leaves; the silence turned to soft rustling.

'Drosos,' whispered Olivia, moving back from him far enough from him to see his face clearly in the fading light.

He let her read his features, exulting in the yearning in her eyes. He pulled her closer. 'I want you, Olivia.'

'And I you,' she said as she wrapped her arms around him.

'Now.'

Olivia laughed low in her throat. 'There is no reason to rush when there is time to savor. Pleasure is not to be