seemed to slip from her body and soar out over the still, silvery sea. She was one with the earth, and the sky, and the silken waters below. Nothing mattered but the sweetness enfolding them, cradling them warmly in its embrace. They were one together.
“Aspar!” she cried his name softly in his ear as she came slowly to herself once again, and then her vision cleared. She saw his dear face, his cheeks wet with tears. Cailin smiled happily at him, pulling his head down to kiss away those tears, realizing at the same time that she was weeping, too.
Finally they lay together upon his cloak, calm once more, their fingers entwined, and he said with a small attempt at humor, “If I had but known, my love, that making love to you upon the beach in the moonlight would result in such delight, I should have done it months ago. How much time we have wasted in our bed, and in the bath.”
“We will waste time no more,” she promised him, and when he leaned over to kiss her, her features were radiant. “Whatever prevented me from sharing passion with you before this night is now gone, my dear lord. I am like our mother, the earth, reborn with the springtime!”
If Aspar’s love for Cailin had been restrained previously in consideration of her feelings, that love was now plainly visible to all who saw them together. Aspar became more determined than ever that Cailin should be his wife. “We will go to some country priest and have him marry us,” he said firmly. “Once the rite is performed, what can they do? You must be my wife!”
“There is no one in the empire who does not know Flavius Aspar,” Cailin said quietly. “And there is no one who does not know of the patriarch’s wishes in this matter. Even were I to become one of your Christians, my dear lord, I should not be allowed to become your wife. Those few brief months that I spent at Villa Maxima have destroyed my reputation.”
“There must be some way in which I can convince the patriarch,” Aspar said to Basilicus one afternoon as they came from the palace, where they had been conferring with the emperor. “Flacilla has married Justin Gabras, and the pair of them are the scandal of the city with their orgies and their parties, which rival anything the brothels can create. How can the patriarch justify such a union while denying me the opportunity to marry my Cailin, who is so good?”
“Her goodness does not enter into it, my friend,” Basilicus replied. “And it is not just the patriarch. We have a law here in Byzantium that specifically forbids the union of a senator, or other person of high rank, with an actress or a whore, or any woman of lower rank. You would not be allowed to circumvent the law, Aspar. Not even you.”
“Cailin is a patrician,” Aspar protested angrily.
“She says she is,” Basilicus answered, “but who is to prove her truthful, or a liar? Here in Byzantium she was an actress in a brothel, performing sexual acts before an audience. That makes her ineligible to marry with the First Patrician of the empire, Flavius Aspar.”
“Then I will leave the empire,” Aspar said grimly. “I can no longer be content or useful if I am denied my wish in this matter.”
Basilicus did not argue. Aspar would not leave Byzantium. His whole world was here, and he was not a young man. Besides, even based upon his brief acquaintance with Cailin, Basilicus felt she would not allow Aspar to do anything that could endanger his position, or his comfort.
“Casia tells me you have asked her to sit in your box at the games next week,” the prince said, changing the subject. “It is kind of you, and I have said she may go, although it will cause a small scandal. Who else will you invite, my friend? Entertainers and artisans, I doubt not.”
Aspar laughed. “Ahhh, yes,” he said. “How could I, the empire’s First Patrician and great general, dare to prefer those who create to those in power? Eh, Basilicus? But I do! And you are correct. Both Bellisarius and Apollodorus, the great classical actor and the masses’ favorite comedian, will be in my box on May eleventh. And Anastasius, the singer and poet, as well as John Andronicus, the artist who does those marvelous ivory carvings, and Philippicus Arcadius, the sculptor. I have commissioned him to