Zeno said. This was interesting.
“I do not even know what he looks like,” Cailin admitted candidly. “The master of the house in which I served came to me one morning and told me that I had been seen and admired by General Aspar, who had bought me from him. I was then sent here. I find it all quite strange.”
Zeno smiled. “No,” he said, “it is the kind of thing he would do, my lady. We who have been with him for so long know his kind heart, although it is not his public reputation. He would be, should be, emperor of Byzantium, my lady, but instead he has placed Leo on the throne.”
“Why?” she asked, curious. She motioned Zeno to sit with her by the atrium pond, encouraging him to continue.
“He descends from the Alans, my lady. They were once a pastoral, nomadic clan living beyond the Black Sea. The Alans were driven from their homeland by the Huns, a fierce, warlike tribe who until recently were ruled by an animal called Attila. Although the general is a Christian, he is an Arian Christian. Whereas the Orthodox Christians believe that their Holy Trinity, consisting of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are one in three, and three in one, the Arians believe that the Son is a different being from the God Father, and subordinate to him.
“They argue back and forth over doctrine. Although some of our emperors are intrigued by the Arians, the Orthodox church holds sway in Byzantium. They will not allow an openly Arian Christian to be crowned emperor. The bishops respect General Aspar, and they know there is no finer military man alive; but they would not allow him to be emperor. I honestly do not think he wants to be emperor, my lady. The emperor is never a free man. Much of the general’s heritage remains in him, I believe. He would rather be a free man than a king.”
“Does he have a wife, Zeno? Or children?” Cailin wondered.
“For many years the general was wed to a good woman of Byzantium, the lady Anna. In the first year of their marriage they had a son, Ardiburius, and then later a daughter, Sophia. Nine years ago the lady Anna, after many years of barrenness, bore our master a second son, Patricius. The birth weakened her. She remained an invalid until her death three years ago. Villa Mare was bought for her pleasure because it was thought the sea air would be salubrious for her.
“We thought the general would remain a bachelor, but last year he married again. It is a political alliance, however. The lady Flacilla is a widow with two married daughters. She does not even live in our master’s house in the city, but remains in the home she has had for many years. She is a woman of the court with powerful connections, but I fear she is a poor companion for the general. He is lonely.”
“The trouble with old and valued servants,” came a deep voice, “is that they know far too much about one, and are given to idle chatter.”
Zeno leapt up and, kneeling before the man who had entered the atrium, kissed the hem of his cloak. “Forgive an old fool, my lord,” he said, and then, “Why did you not send word you were coming?”
“Because this house is always in perfect order to receive me, Zeno,” Aspar said, helping the old man to his feet. “Now, go and bring me some chilled wine, the Cyprian wine, for I have had a long, hot ride.” Having dismissed the servant, he turned to Cailin. “You are well-rested?” he asked politely.
“Thank you, my lord.” She tried not to stare.
“Zeno has made you comfortable?” he said. God, she is beautiful, he thought. He had bought her on a whim, out of pity, but now he realized perhaps he had not been foolish after all. It had been a long time since any woman had made his heart race and his loins stir with desire.
“I have been treated with nothing but kindness, my lord,” Cailin told him softly. He is a very attractive man, she considered, realizing the place she would occupy in this house from his look. “Here, let me take your cloak,” she said, unfastening the diamond button of the garment and laying it aside. He stood just two or three inches taller than she was. He was not nearly as tall as Wulf or the trio of