“Michael Valens, no hero, fearful that his beautiful face would be destroyed, escaped through a window naked as the day his mother had birthed him, I’m told, leaving a semi-garbed Flacilla to contend with the outraged gladiator. He railed loudly against her, cursing her and naming her a whore to all who would listen. The innkeeper finally called out the guard, who chased after Nichophorus as he ran screaming after Flacilla’s litter, which was making its way down the streets of the city at an unusually great rate of speed.” Basilicus laughed. “The captain of the guard and his men were, of course, bought off by the patriarch. The scandal was hushed up. Nichophorus was sent to Cyprus. It is a very good thing Aspar was not in the city when it happened. He warned Flacilla when they married that if she caused any public scandal, he would send her to St. Barbara’s Convent for the rest of her life.”
The empress nodded. “Yes, he did, and the patriarch agreed to support him in such an instance. The Strabo family is not just a little annoyed by Flacilla’s indiscreet behavior, and their patience is worn thin by her. Hmmmmm, I wonder to what use I may put all this information, but of course the puzzle is incomplete until I know exactly what is going on at Aspar’s villa.” Her amber eyes glittered wickedly. “You will leave in the morning, brother.”
He groaned as he arose, kissing her hand. “The empress’s wish is my command, but Verina, I will expect the favor of my choice for this little task I undertake on your behalf. Remember that!”
“Within reason, Basilicus,” she purred, smiling broadly after him. He was such a good brother, the empress thought fondly as she watched him leave. Whatever was happening at the general’s villa, Basilicus would obtain the entire story, analyze it, and return to her with it. If she could not decide how to use his information, he would be able to advise her. They were very close, and always had been.
Basilicus left the city early the following day. He traveled in a large, comfortable litter, preferring not to ride in the warm sun. To his surprise, he napped most of the way, awakening as they entered through the gates of the villa. Zeno, the majordomo, greeted him politely, recognizing the prince from his own days at the general’s house in Constantinople.
“Where is your master?” Basilicus asked.
“He is walking by the sea, my lord,” Zeno replied.
Basilicus was about to tell Zeno to send a servant for Aspar, but instead decided that he might learn something of value if he took his friend unawares. “Thank you, Zeno,” he said. “If you will but direct me.” He followed the majordomo through the atrium of the villa and across the interior garden, out into a large open garden that looked over the Propontis, and beyond into Asia.
“There is the path, my lord,” Zeno told him, pointing.
Basilicus hurried along the gravel walkway. It was a marvelous day with a flat, bright blue, cloudless sky above. The autumn sun was warm, and about him the damask rosebushes sported a mixture of late blooms and large, fat, round redorange rosehips. Then he saw them—Aspar and a woman, laughing together upon the beach. The woman wore a white chiton and was barefoot, as was her companion, who was garbed in a short red tunic. The sea was almost flat, a mixture of azure, aquamarine, and teal-green stretching like an iridescent fabric across to the hills on the other shore. Above them the gulls mewled and cried, swooping to the water and then pulling up sharply to soar in the windless sky.
Basilicus watched them for a long moment, enchanted by the picture they made, and then he called out, raising his hand and waving at the couple. “Aspar, my friend!” He stepped from the pathway to the sandy beach and began walking toward them.
“Jesu!” Aspar swore softly beneath his breath. “It is Basilicus.”
“The empress’s brother?” Cailin replied. “Did you invite him?”
“Of course not. He has obviously heard something, my little love. He is a clever, and a sly fox. He has come with a purpose, you may be certain. I can only wonder at what it is.”
“He is very handsome,” she observed.
Aspar felt a twinge of jealousy at her words. He had no cause, he knew, to doubt her. She was simply making an observation, and yet he felt resentful. He did not want to share