you, Cailin? You are suddenly so distracted.”
Cailin sighed. She needed to confide in someone, and Casia was the only friend she had. “It is the Saxon,” she replied.
“Aye, he is gorgeous!” Casia agreed.
“It is not that,” Cailin answered.
“Then what is it?” Casia demanded.
“I think the Saxon is Wulf Ironfist,” Cailin told her friend.
“Your husband in Britain? Are you certain? The gods!”
“I am not certain, Casia,” Cailin said nervously, “but I must know! We wed because he was tired of fighting and he wanted to settle down. My lands were what drew him to me. I have thought Wulf Ironfist to be in Britain, on those lands, these months past. I even decided that he must have taken another wife and had a child by now. I have to know if the man they call the Saxon is he! I must know one way or another.”
“Ohhh, Cailin, you are opening a Pandora’s box,” Casia warned. “What if this man is Wulf Ironfist? What will you do? Do you still love him? What of Aspar?”
“I cannot answer you, Casia. I have no answers. I only know I must learn if it is he, or if my eyes have been playing tricks upon me.” She looked so distraught that Casia’s heart went out to her. “Ohhh, what am I to do?” Cailin asked, and she began to cry.
“Well,” Casia said briskly, “we will simply have to satisfy your curiosity, won’t we?” Pulling the curtains of her litter open, she leaned out and called to her head bearer, “Go to Villa Maxima, Peter!”
Cailin gasped. “Oh, Casia, no! ‘Tis madness! What if I am seen? Especially now that I am to be married to Aspar.”
“Who will see us?” Casia said. “Jovian and Phocas have closed Villa Maxima to their regular clientele while the gladiators are in residence. I will go in while you remain in the litter with the curtains tightly closed. I will seek out Jovian, and he will know how you may learn if the Saxon is your Wulf Ironfist. We will be discreet, and you will be safer than if you were in your mother’s house again,” Casia promised. “Then you can go home and feel foolish, for it is very, very unlikely that this gladiator is your man, Cailin Drusus.”
“But what if it is Wulf?” Cailin fretted.
Casia’s face grew serious. “Why then, my friend, you are going to have to decide just what it is you want—a beautiful but savage Saxon who is obviously penniless, and willing to risk his life in the ring; or the cultured and wealthy First Patrician of the empire. If it were me, Cailin Drusus, I would order this litter to turn back, and I would return to Villa Mare this instant. If a man like Flavius Aspar loved me, I would thank God each morning when I awoke for the rest of my days. I think you are mad to tempt the Fates so. Let me tell Peter to turn back. I will come home with you and keep you company this night. The Saxon cannot be Wulf Ironfist.”
“I must know, Casia. Seeing him, even from a distance, has filled my mind with doubts. If I do not resolve these doubts, how can I ever pledge my faith to Aspar? What if the Saxon is not Wulf, but someday in the future Wulf does appear upon my doorstep? What if I still love him?”
“The gods forbid it, you foolish creature!” Casia exclaimed.
The litter made its way down the Mese and then through a series of side streets. The two women had grown quiet. Casia twisted the rich fabric of her gown with her slender fingers. She was already regretting her impulsiveness. It was not Cailin alone who was opening Pandora’s box. She drew a deep breath. Nothing was going to come of this. Cailin, having a fit of bridal nerves, was seeing ghosts. The Saxon would turn out to be no one she had ever known. Still, Casia started nervously as the litter was set down and her head bearer, Peter, drew back the curtains to reveal that they were in the courtyard of Villa Maxima. Cailin reached out, touching Casia’s arm encouragingly.
Casia nodded. “I will find Jovian. Remain here, and whatever you do, do not open the curtains. Let them think the litter is empty.” She stepped from her elegant vehicle. “Peter, let no one be aware that I have a companion with me. I will not be long.”
“Yes, lady,” he replied.
Casia hurried into