"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 Northmen had been, but his body had a solid, almost square look to it. He was obviously a general who kept himself in as good condition as his own men were required to keep themselves.

"What is the fragrance you are wearing?" he asked her. It was intoxicating him with its elusiveness.

"I wear no fragrance, my lord, but I do bathe daily," Cailin told him nervously, stepping away from him. "It is probably the scent of the soap that lingers on my skin."

"We will bathe together after I have had my wine. The ride was hot, and the city even hotter. Do you like it here by the sea?"

"I was raised in the country, my lord, and lived there until I came to Constantinople. I prefer it to the city." She answered him calmly, but her heart was thundering in her ears. We will bathe together. If there had been any doubt in her mind as to what position she was to hold in his life before, there was certainly none any longer.

Zeno returned with the wine, and Aspar sat down on the marble bench by the fish pond, sipping the cool beverage slowly and with obvious appreciation. Cailin stood silently by his side watching him. His hair was deep brown, sprinkled with bits of silver. It was cut short and brushed away from the crown of his head. It was a practical style for a military man. The hand holding the goblet was large and square, the fingers long and powerful-looking. There was a big gold ring upon his middle finger. The ruby in it was cut to resemble a double-headed eagle, the symbol of Byzantium.

He felt her stare and looked up suddenly. Cailin blushed, caught at her scrutiny. He smiled. It was a quick, mischievous smile like that of a small boy. His teeth were white and even, and the eyes that twinkled at her a silvery gray. The lines about his eyes that crinkled with amusement told her that he smiled easily. "I think my nose too big. What do you think, Cailin?" He smiled again, and her knees went just a trifle weak. He wasn't quite handsome, but there was something about him.

"I think your nose very nice, my lord," she replied.

"The nostrils flare a bit too much," he told her. "Now my mouth is very well-proportioned, neither too big nor too little. Our friend, Jovian, has a cupid's bow of a mouth, quite unsuitable for a man, don't you think? It was probably charming when he was a child."

"Jovian is still a bit of a child," Cailin observed.

Aspar chuckled. "So there is a keen eye, and, I suspect, an intellect to go with that beautiful face and form."

"I was not aware that my face was particularly visible when you saw me last, my lord, and my form was quite contorted, or so it felt," Cailin said humorously. Then she grew serious. "Why did you buy me, my lord? Is it your habit to purchase inmates of brothels?"

"I thought you the bravest woman I had ever seen," Aspar told her. "You were struggling to survive at Villa Maxima. I saw it in the blank stare you favored the audience with, and the stoic way in which you accepted the degradation visited upon you in that obscene playlet of Jovian's.

"The empire that rules the world, or at least most of it, is governed by those same deviates who found your shame entertaining. I am a member of that ruling class, but I find those people more frightening than any danger I have ever faced in battle. When I impulsively purchased you from Jovian-who by the way would not have dared to refuse my request-I was doing so because I felt your bravery should be rewarded by freeing you from the hell you so gallantly endured. Now, however, I think perhaps there was another reason as well. You stir my blood, it seems."

His frankness amazed her. Cailin struggled for composure. "There must be many beautiful women in Byzantium, my lord," she said. "It is, I have been told, a city of uniquely beautiful women. Surely there are others more worthy of your attention than myself, a humble slave from Britain."

His laughter startled her. "By God, I would not have thought coyness a part of your nature, Cailin. It does not become you, I fear," Aspar told her.

"I have never been coy in my entire life!" she sputtered indignantly.

"Then do not start now," he chided her. "You are a beautiful woman, I desire you. Since I bought you, there is, it would seem, little you can do except bear with the horrendous fate I have in store for you." He put down his goblet and arose to stand facing her.

"Yes, you own me," Cailin said, and to her dismay, tears sprang into her eyes which she seemed powerless to control. "I am bound to obey you, my lord, but you will never have all of me, for there is a part of myself that only I can give, no man can take!"

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, stunned by her honest declaration and moved by her passionate defiance. Tears slipped slowly down her smooth cheeks like tiny crystal beads. "My God," he exclaimed, "did you know that your eyes glisten like amethysts when you weep like that, Cailin? You break my heart. Cease, I beg you, my beauty! I surrender humbly before your feet."

"I hate being a slave!" she told him desperately. "And why is it that you can penetrate the defenses I have so carefully built up around myself these last months when no one else could?"

"I am a better tactician than any of the others," he told her teasingly. "Besides, Cailin, although you tempt my baser nature, I find you fascinating on several other levels as well." He brushed away her tears carefully with a single finger. "I have finished my wine now. We will become better acquainted in the bath. I promise I will try not to make you cry again if you will not be coy. Do we have a bargain, my beauty? I think I am being most generous."

She could not be angry with him. He was really very kind, but she was a little fearful of him nonetheless. "I agree," she said finally.

"Come then," he said, taking her hand and leading her from the atrium.

Chapter 9

The bath at Villa Mare was unique in that it was not an interior room. It faced the sea, and had an open portico that could be closed off by means of shutters in cold or inclement weather. The view from the room was both beautiful and soothing. The walls were decorated in mosaic. One pictured Neptune, the sea god, standing tall amid the waves, a trident in one hand and a conch shell in the other, upon which he was blowing. Behind him silver-blue dolphins leapt. A second wall offered a scene of Neptune's many daughters cavorting among the waves with a troupe of sea horses; while the third wall showed the mighty king of the sea seducing a beautiful maiden in an underwater cave. The mosaic floor of the bath pictured fish and sea life of every kind known to the artist. It was both colorful and amusing.

There was a tiled dressing room off the bath, but the main room served all the steps necessary to bathing, unlike the elegant bath complex at Villa Maxima with its many different rooms. The bathing pool was set in sea-blue tiles, and the water gently warm. A corner fountain with a marble basin ran with cool water. There were shell-shaped depressions with drains for rinsing and benches for massage.

Aspar dismissed the old slave who served as bath attendant. "The lady Cailin wishes to serve me," he told the woman, and she grinned a toothless grin that bespoke pure conspiracy, cackling as she departed.

"Discretion is wasted here," Cailin told him, pinning up her long hair.

"Remove your chiton," he said. "I want to see you as God made you, Cailin. Bent over as you were the last time I viewed your charms, I could see little of much note, so covered were you by those Northmen."

"You may be sorry you did not buy one of them," she teased him mischievously, and slipped the simple garment over her head, tossing it carelessly upon a bench. Then she stood silent and still, amazed that she was not mortified; but then her stay at Villa Maxima had, she suspected, rid her of all false modesty.

"Turn slowly," he commanded her quietly, his admiration obvious. Then he removed his own garments, unfastening the cross-gartering on his braccos and slipping them off, to be followed by his drawers, tunic, and fine linen chemise.

As Cailin turned back to face him, she found Aspar quite as naked as she herself was. Startled by his action, she blushed. He stood quietly, allowing her the same advantage as he had had, and then he turned, too. Her first impression had been a good one. His body was firm, well-muscled, and kissed by the sun. He was not fat, nor was he large-boned. There was a solid stockiness to him that she found comforting. His arms and legs were hairless, as was his chest. He had longer legs than she would have expected, and a well-sculpted, hard torso. His buttocks were tight.

His male organs seemed smaller than she was used to, but she suspected he was of quite average size. Her "barbarians" and Wulf had been the exceptions to the rule, Casia had assured her when they had once spoken on it. Her curiosity had led her to question the lovely courtesan who had tutored her so well in the arts of Eros. Casia had been a font of useful and rather fascinating information for Cailin, who was so lacking in practical experience regarding men and lovemaking.