'I don't blame you for doing what you must. I don't even think that you are being disloyal, for you must first be loyal to the Emperor and his rulings.'
'Antonina—' Eugenia began, then stopped.
'Have some of these stuffed dates. They're excellent.' There was no enthusiasm in the offer, but Eugenia obediently helped herself. 'You are placed in the same awkward position as most of my husband's officers are, but you are not as much a risk as they. But if you want to place yourself well, doubtless being seen here will not help you.' She poured herself more of the wine but did not drink it.
Eugenia nibbled the dates and ordered her thoughts. 'I am aware that you are under constraints. Like many other Konstantinoupolitans, I believe that the treatment is unfair and unnecessary, but it will take time for the
Emperor to see this. Those close to him are determined to continue this estrangement as long as possible.'
'So I understand,' said Antonina.
'And for that reason, if I curtail my visits, I hope you will not be too horrified by my actions, and will not be too severe in your judgment of me.' This last was in a lower tone, and she dared not look too closely at her hostess.
'In your position, I would be tempted to do the same thing,' said Antonina. 'You have so much to lose, and certainly I do not wish you to have to endure what we are enduring now.'
Eugenia cringed under this assault, but she continued to keep herself in check. 'I have hopes of a ship's captain. He has eight merchantmen. While he is not as well-placed as my husband was, he is interested in wedding me. And it does not matter to him that I am still seen here. He is not part of the court and has no aspirations to be.' She sighed. 'He is over fifty and has a belly like a captive bear, but it is something.'
'You had your sights higher at one time,' Antonina reminded her.
'I still do. But if it becomes necessary, it is rewarding to know that I am not wholly without those who admire me.' She tossed her head defiantly, a gesture that had been applauded when she was young and now she did out of habit.
'I would hate to see you stuck with your captain of merchantmen,' admitted Antonina. 'I had such hopes for you, when I could still command some interest and some respect from those within the ranks of the Guard.' She sipped the wine and glanced at the torn windows.
'You have been my staunchest supporter and friend,' Eugenia said firmly. 'It disgusts me that we are reduced to this when you and I had such hopes. If Theodora could rise from her place, why should not I? I am in a far better position than she was, and I have some fortune to offer a husband.'
Antonina held up a warning hand. 'Don't speak that way. There are those who would be eager to report what you have said to others who are not your friends. It would do you more harm than simply drinking hot wine with me.' She leaned back in her low chair. 'It's true, but with Theodora dead, none of us dare remember what she came from. Justinian would not like to hear such things said of her.'
Eugenia lowered her eyes, chastened and worried. 'Theodora never made any excuses for herself.'
'That was Theodora,' Antonina said bitterly. 'Theodora was not like her husband in many ways. She was not shamed by her past and she appreciated her rise and the favor she attained.' She turned too quickly and knocked over the wine cup that stood at her elbow.
'I'll summon a slave,' Eugenia said, dabbing ineffectively at it with the edge of her rosy-beige paenula.
'No; there's no saying if we'll have any privacy if you do. Here.' She took one of the soft pillows and dropped it onto the wine, watching the stain spread across the linen.
'You'll ruin the pillow,' Eugenia warned.
'And who would see it that would care?' She picked up the pillow and dropped it on the floor.
'Antonina, you aren't—' Eugenia cried out.
She was interrupted. 'What use for us to pretend, Eugenia? The Emperor has withdrawn the favor he bestowed and for all the position my husband now has, he might as well be posted to the most remote fort in the Empire. In fact, he would think himself lucky if that would happen.' She shivered and not entirely because the storm was sniffing at the walls of her house like a hungry animal.
'You must not despair,' Eugenia said, repeating what her confessor had told her so many times.
'Why not? I pray that the Emperor will escape the influence of those who are my husband's enemies, but I cannot do as Belisarius does and assume that Justinian is at the mercy of those who wish him ill. I believe—and if I were a man, the belief would be treason, I know—that Justinian is jealous of Belisarius and has decided to take away his power so that he need not fear for his throne. I believe that the Emperor is petty and ungrateful and filled with spite. I believe that he wishes to disgrace my husband and to make an example of him to those who might desire to advance themselves at the Emperor's expense. I believe that nothing my husband does or says will change this and that he would have done better to have died in battle, which is what I think Justinian prayed would happen.' She stopped, breathless and flushed.
'I won't repeat that,' Eugenia said.
'No matter,' Antonina told her with a shake of her head. 'The Emperor has spies in this house and he knows all that is said here, and most of what is invented. The slaves know that if they bring a report that further impugns my husband the reward will be greater, and so they embroider everything they hear until a chance remark becomes a flagrant threat.' She reached out and gave both of them more wine. 'Here. It doesn't matter now. I have already unburdened myself and there is no reason to try to keep a silent tongue in my head.'
Eugenia was becoming actively alarmed by her friend's behavior, and she tried to shift their conversation. 'Do you think that the mourning we must observe for Theodora will last longer than a year?'
'Who is to say?' Antonina responded. 'She would have limited it, but now that she is gone, there is no one to keep the Emperor from his most rigorous demands.' She took a long sip of wine and clapped twice loudly. 'Simones! Another jug of hot wine.'
The eunuch came into the reception room and took the empty jug from the table. 'Some sweetmeats as well, great lady?'
'Anything,' she answered without any inflection. 'Whatever the cooks wish to serve. Just so that the wine is well-spiced and hot. And see if anything can be done about that window. It's cold as a tomb in here.'
Simones made a deep, insolent reverence. 'Of course, great lady. And I will have a pope petition heaven bring sunshine and balmy days at once.'
Antonina straightened. 'If you do not wish to find yourself on a sale block, you will never speak to me again in that manner.' There was no doubt that she was in earnest, and her eyes bored into him. 'And my husband will know of your conduct, so that you will be watched in future. Do you understand that?'
'I understand,' said Simones, aware that he had gone too far. He knew that any value he might have existed because he was in the Belisarius household, and that if ever he was sold, he would be of use to no one, and in fact might be thought a liability for his knowledge. The prospect of what could happen then made him correct his demeanor, and he went on, 'I vow before God that I will not forget myself again.'
'You think that because there are Guards at the door, you may show the same contempt they do, don't you?' Antonina accused him, glad to have someone she could vent her rage and frustration on in safety.
'I forgot myself,' he allowed.
'And you have assumed that no one in the household would dare to correct you because of the Guard. You are the slave of this household, not of the Guard, and as long as that is so, you will show yourself subservient and obedient.' She paused, satisfied at the fright she recognized in his eyes. 'If you are abusive, there is the lash.'
'Abusive slaves deserve the lash,' Eugenia said severely as she watched Simones. 'Don't they?'
'Yes,' he said softly. 'And when I give abuse, I will thank God for the correction you mete out to me.' It was the same formula he had been taught since he was a boy, but he no longer said it like a chastized child.
'You should also thank God that you were made a eunuch,' said Antonina. 'Rebellion in a whole man is regarded far more seriously than in a eunuch.' She indicated the ikonostasis. 'Even the Saints have said so.'
'Because eunuchs are more tractable?' Eugenia suggested.
Simones bowed his head, and decided to take a chance. 'General Narses'—no one in the household had dared to mention Belisarius' replacement in Italy—'is a eunuch.'
'Who has nephews,' Antonina said curtly. 'Speak that name again, and I will assure you that you will be mining copper in Syria before the week is out.'
'I did not mean to give insult,' said Simones mendaciously. 'But there are many who suppose that a man who
