"If you had no farmers," Cailin said to her lover, "where would we get our foodstuffs? Does the government not consider that? Why are the merchants taxed so little, and the farmers so much?"

"For the same reason ships docking in the Golden Horn are only charged two solidi on their arrival, but fifteen solidi on their departure. The government wants luxury goods and staples brought into the city, but not traded away out of it. That is why the merchants are charged such low taxes. Someone has to make up the deficit. Since the farmers have no choice but to farm the land, and are so scattered throughout the country they cannot unite and complain, the heaviest burden of taxation falls upon them," Aspar told her. "Governments have always acted thusly, for there is always someone willing to farm the land."

"That is totally illogical," Cailin responded. "It is the luxury goods that should be taxed, and not the poor souls who supply the necessities of everyday life! Who makes such foolish laws?"

"The senate," he said, smiling at her outrage. "You see, my love, the bulk of the luxury goods are sold to the ruling class, and the very rich have a strong aversion to heavy taxation. The government keeps the majority of the populace content by regulating the price of everything that is sold. The poor farmers, a minority, can cry out all they want. Their voices will not be heard in either the senate or in the palace. Only when the majority of the people threaten rebellion do those in power listen, and then not particularly closely, but just enough to save their own skins," Aspar finished cynically.

"If they tax the farmers out of existence," Cailin persisted, "who will grow the food? Has the government considered that?"

"The powerful will grow the food, using slave labor," he said.

"That is why you pay your tenants' taxes, isn't it?"

"Free men are happier men," Aspar said, "and happier men produce far more than those who are not happy, or free."

"There is so much beauty here," Cailin said slowly, "and yet so much wickedness and decay. I miss my homeland. Life in Britain was simpler, and the boundaries of our survival were more clearly defined, even if we had not the luxuries of Byzantium, my dear lord."

"Your thoughts are complex even for a wise man," he replied, taking her hand and kissing the inside of her wrist. "Your heart is great, Cailin Drusus, but you must accept the fact you are only a woman. There is little you can do to right the world's ills, my love."

"Yet Father Michael tells me that I am my brother's keeper," she answered him cleverly, and he smiled at her tenacity. "This Christianity of yours is interesting, Aspar, but its adherents do not always do what they preach a good Christian should do, my lord. I like your Jesus, but I think he would not like some of the ways in which his teachings are interpreted by those who claim to speak in his name. I have been taught that one of the commandments handed down says that we shall not kill our fellow man, and yet we do, Aspar. We kill for foolish reasons, which is worse. A man does not worship as we think he should worship, and so we kill him. A man is of a different race or tribe than we are, so we kill him! This is not, I think, what Jesus meant. Here in Byzantium there is so much evil amid so much piety. Yet that evil is ignored by even those in the highest places who proudly worship in the Hagia Sophia, and then run off to commit adultery, or cheat their business associates. It is all very confusing."

"Do you tell Father Michael of your thoughts and concerns?" he asked her, not knowing if he should be truly amused or fearful for her.

"No," she said. "He is too intense in his religious fervor, and very bound up with the correctness of his worship. He says that I am far from ready for baptism, which is, I think, a good thing, Aspar. A good Christian woman, it is said, must either be a wife or go to live in a convent. I am told I cannot be your wife, and I certainly have no desire to live a cloistered existence. Therefore, once I accept the rite of baptism, I must either leave you or be forever damned. It is not a particularly broad choice, my lord, that is offered me." Cailin's violet eyes twinkled with amusement. Then she slipped her arms about his neck and kissed him slowly. "I am going to avoid baptism as long as I can, my lord."

"Good!" he answered her. "It will give me time to overcome this ridiculous notion that we cannot be married. Flacilla whored all over Byzantium, and was allowed to wed Justin Gabras, but you, my love, who in your innocence was cruelly abused, are denied the right to marry. It is not a situation that is to be tolerated, and I will not tolerate it!"

"We are together, and that is enough for me, Aspar," Cailin told him. "I want nothing more than to be by your side for eternity."

"How would you like to go to the games with me in May?" he asked her. "Special games are held each May eleventh to commemorate the founding of the city of Constantinople. My box is right next to the imperial box. Have you ever seen chariot races, Cailin? The Hippodrome has the finest course in all Byzantium."

"If you are seen in public with me, will that not cause a scandal?" she asked him. "I do not think it wise, my lord."

"There is nothing unusual about a man bringing his mistress to the games, particularly a bachelor such as myself," Aspar answered. "Casia, the girl you knew at Villa Maxima, is now Basilicus's lover. He has given her her own home in the city, and visits her regularly. We will ask her to join us, as well as some of the city's more famous artisans and actors. I am known to keep such company, to the despair of the court, but frankly, those who create are far more interesting to me than those who govern and intrigue." He chuckled. "We will fill the box with interesting people, and few will know just who is who."

"Perhaps it would be nice to see other people," Cailin observed. "When you are away on your official duties, I grow lonely sometimes."

Her admission startled him, for she had never complained about her solitude before. Aspar had never considered that she might be weary of being companionless.

Several days later Zeno was sent to the city, and when he returned, he brought with him a young girl with large, frightened blue eyes, and flaxen braids.

"The master thought you would like a young maidservant to keep you company," Zeno said, smiling. "We are all so old here, but you, lady, are like springtime, and need a fair flower to serve and amuse you. She speaks no language I can understand, lady, but she seems pleasant and biddable."

Cailin smiled at the girl and then asked, "From where does she come, Zeno? If I knew, perhaps I might find a language in which we could communicate. If I cannot speak with her, then all my lord's good intentions are for naught."

"The slave merchant said she comes from Britain!" Zeno said triumphantly. "Surely you can communicate with her, my lady."

"Yet she speaks no Latin," Cailin mused to herself. She turned to the young girl. "What is your name?" she asked in her own native Celtic tongue. If the girl didn't speak Latin, she must speak Celtic.

"Nellwyn, lady," the girl said slowly.

"Are you Celt?" Cailin said.

The girl shook her head. "Saxon, lady, but I understand the tongue you speak. I come from the Saxon shore, and there are many Celts there."

"How came you to Byzantium?" Cailin continued.

"Byzantium?" Nellwyn looked confused. "What is Byzantium, lady?"

"This place, this land. It is called Byzantium. The city in which you were in is its capital, Constantinople by name," Cailin explained.

"Northmen raided our village," Nellwyn told her. "My parents and my brothers were slaughtered. My sisters and I and the other women who could not escape were carried off. They took us to Gaul first, and then we traveled by sea again to come here. Many died on the way. The sea was horrible!"

"Yes, I know," Cailin said. "I came to Byzantium almost two years ago from Britain in a similar fashion. My home was near Corinium."

The girl's eyes grew wide. "Are you a slave, too?"

"No longer," Cailin replied.

"Is this your house, lady?" Nellwyn recognized quality when she saw it, and this beautiful woman was obviously nobility.

"No," Cailin told her. "It is the house of Flavius Aspar, Byzantium's most famous warrior, and a great nobleman." There was no need to explain anything else. Nellwyn would soon figure it out, if indeed she had not already. "My lord has brought you to be a companion to me, Nellwyn. You are safe now, and need fear no longer. Do you understand?"

"Yes, lady," Nellwyn replied, kneeling before Cailin. "I will serve you loyally, I swear by Woden!"

"I am pleased to hear it," Cailin said. "Now get up girl, and go with Zeno, who is master of the servants in this house. He will show you where you are to sleep, Nellwyn. You will have to learn the language spoken in this land, or it will be difficult for you, I fear. The tongue is called Latin. Many spoke it in Britain."

"I have heard the words of that tongue," Nellwyn answered. "I have a good ear, my father always said, and learned Celtic quickly. I am sure I will learn Latin as well, lady, and make you proud of me."

"Good! Now, whatever Zeno tells you to do, you must obey him," Cailin explained to the girl. Then she turned to her major-domo. "She has some words of Latin, and claims she can learn quickly, Zeno. See she is given a bath. She smells like a stable. Then give her fresh clothing and a sleeping space. She may come to me in the morning, and I will assign her duties and begin to teach her myself."

The elderly servant bowed and, signaling to the girl, led her off. Very shortly he returned, however, and said bluntly, "She will not let us bathe her, my lady. She screams like a rabbit in a trap."

"I will come," Cailin said, and followed him to the servants' quarters, where Nellwyn, naked now, stood sobbing piteously. "Come, girl, you must wash," Cailin scolded her. "In this land we bathe with regularity. Your pretty hair will be crawling with lice, I've not a doubt, and must be cleaned, too. Follow Tamar to the bath now!"

"They would drown me, lady!" Nellwyn wept. "I know how to wash, but properly in a basin, not with all that water!"

Cailin swallowed her laughter. "In Byzantium we wash with lots of water," she explained. "Now you must trust me, Nellwyn, and obey me when I command you, for I am your new mistress. Go with Tamar."

Reluctantly the girl obeyed, casting a teary glance over her shoulder as she followed the older woman into the servant's bath.

"It is a pretty toy you have given me, my lord," Cailin told Aspar that evening as they ate. "She speaks no Latin, and I must teach her; is afraid to bathe, but she appears sweet-tempered and eager to learn."

"You said you were lonely. She is young as you are young, my beauty. She will keep you amused when I am away," he responded, smiling.

"She is thirteen, and believed she was about to be drowned in the servant's bathing pool." Cailin giggled. "Where did you find her?"

"I asked a slave merchant I know to find me a young female Briton," he said.

"She is a Saxon from the Saxon shore of Britain," Cailin told him.

"Then she is not one of your people," he remarked, irritated at himself. "I should have been more specific with the slave merchant."

"Celts are usually harder to catch," Cailin said, a twinkle in her eyes, "and they do not take well to service, my lord. Nellwyn will suit me admirably. Saxon girls are generally good-natured."

"Then I have pleased you," he replied, smiling at her.

"You always please me, my lord," she answered him softly.

"No," he said sadly, "I do not, Cailin. I wish I could."

"The fault lies with me, Aspar. You know it does! It breaks my heart that I can no longer feel passion when a man is within my woman's passage," Cailin said, tears filling her lovely eyes. "Yet I do gain a different kind of pleasure when we lie together. Your touch is so filled with love for me that it communicates itself to my very heart, and I am filled with happiness and peace. It is enough for me. I could but wish it was enough for you. It hurts me to know that I have failed you in this manner, but I know not what to do to change things. I have not that wisdom, my beloved lord." She lay her head on his shoulder and sighed forlornly. How could she care so for this good man, Cailin wondered, and be unable to completely return his passion?

"I love you for many reasons," he told her, "but your truthfulness in all things pleases me greatly. I would have no whore's tricks from you, Cailin; no simulated cries of passion ringing in my ears. Some day you will cry out for me, but that cry will come from your heart. I will wait until that time. Perhaps not always with patience, but I will wait." He arose from the table and held out his hand to her. "The night is fair, and there is a moon. Let us walk together, my love."