"I am relieved that you came," he said to Olivia when the formalities had been observed. "I have not been able to get any response from the Censor regarding the items that were taken from your house. For the last month the only comment they will give me about you is that the Censor has not yet made up his mind. I have no means to demand more from him."
"You have done what you can, and more than I have any right to expect," said Olivia, wishing she could say more safely. On her arrival she had been warned that there were many spies in his household; she would have to guard her tongue.
"It ought to be more," said Belisarius, his frown deepening making furrows in his face. "It shames me that I am unable to do more."
"There is no reason it should," Olivia told him frankly. "I am a foreigner here, and a woman. That the Censor does not choose to act is not surprising. There are other more pressing cases requiring his attention, I am certain." She looked up as a slave brought refreshments into the room. "Thank you, I will take nothing."
"You never do," Belisarius complained with a smile.
"If things were different I might be offended. Under the circumstances, I admire your prudence."
Olivia laughed sadly. "It isn't that I fear what you serve. You have no earthly reason to poison me. But there are things that cause me upset, and I wish to avoid them. You have known others with antipathies to certain foods, and I am afraid I am one such." There was, she added to herself, one thing only that nourished her and lately it had been difficult to acquire.
"You've told me that before," he said, making the most of the conversation while the slave was still in the room. "I am sorry, incidentally, that my wife is not feeling well enough to join us. Her malady continues. I had hoped she would recover but that hope is—" He could not finish.
"Before I leave, I would like to call upon her, if that is all right with her. It has been almost three months since I had the pleasure of speaking with Antonina and I would like to have a little time with her."
Belisarius was able to smile fleetingly at her request. "I will send word to her. Simones has been watching her since sunrise and doubtless he will want to have a meal and stretch his legs a bit. He's been very good to her."
"At a time like this, his devotion must mean a great deal to Antonina." She kept her voice neutral, for she did not want to distress Belisarius with her own misgivings about the eunuch.
"Yes. He was a gift, you know. His former master gave him to my household when his second son was made an officer at the start of my Italian campaign. The officer proved useless, but Simones has been a treasure." His gaze was directed out the window to the garden which was coming into flower. "I am growing nostalgic for war. That is a bad sign in an old soldier."
Olivia leaned forward and put her hand on his forearm. "You long for action. There is no harm in that."
"Action? Or battle, and the blood and the thrill? It is a thrill, Olivia, that first charge when it seems that you are as invincible as the waves of the sea. Later there is the clamor and the sweat and the losses, but in that first moment, it is as marvelous as taking a beloved woman." His expression altered. "Do you see those roses? I planted them myself, with a rat and a fish at the roots to make them bloom more profusely."
"They are beautiful," Olivia said truthfully, wanting to shake Belisarius.
"You're being very patient," Belisarius said to her, and when she started to speak, he interrupted her. "I know you have urgent problems, and I am not doing all that I could. You have let me speak, listening and not blaming, and I owe you more than I can repay."
"Belisarius, you don't have to—" Olivia said, hoping to spare him the embarrassment he was bringing on himself.
"I do have to," he said. "You are rightly concerned for your safety, and I talk about slaves and roses. You need my aid, and I have not given it." He cleared his throat. "All right; I will send another petition to the Censor, requesting the return of all goods taken from your house. I will ask that you be given permission to leave the city before the end of the year, and I will do all that I can to see that the requests are granted. If you do not expect a rapid decision from the Censor, I think that I will be able to obtain the documents you will need. How much of your goods I can recover is another matter."
"I don't ask the impossible, I hope," Olivia said, her eyes softening. "You have your own difficulties."
"I suppose I ought to find you another sponsor, one in better favor with the Censor, but to be honest, I would miss you, and it would be a greater capitulation than I can bear to revoke my sponsorship. As long as I am permitted to be your sponsor, I feel I have some influence, some credibility with the Imperial Court. If I lost that, it would be the same as surrendering."
"I do not want any other sponsor," Olivia said.
Belisarius snorted. "You don't want a sponsor at all."
"Yes. But if I must have one, then I would rather it be you than anyone else." She shrugged. "Do what you can. I will not hold you responsible for what others do."
"I could request that Drosos—" Belisarius offered.
"Drosos is in more disgrace at court than you are. And he is questionable since he is known to be my lover." She frowned, hesitating. "He is also… very much troubled. Ever since his return from Alexandria, he has been unlike himself. I… I have tried, but he—"
"I know," Belisarius said. "I've talked with him, and he is overburdened."
Olivia nodded in agreement. "He is not what he was. There are times I fear I will not be able to… to reach him again."
"Is that so important?" Belisarius asked in surprise.
"There is nothing more important," Olivia said quietly but with so much feeling that Belisarius found it difficult to look at her.
"Yes." He rubbed his hands against his pallium. "Is there anything you would like to eat?"
"No," she said. "I would like to be able to help Drosos, but he won't permit it. When we talk, it is as if he were a stranger, an angry, guilty boy."
Belisarius made a curt gesture. "This is folly."
"He cannot reconcile himself to what he has done." Now that she said it, she saw compassion and resignation in Belisarius' face.
"And if he had not done it, he would not have been able to reconcile himself to that, either." He reached for a plum. "I do not know what more can be done for him."
"He does not want to listen to me; will he listen to you?"
"I don't know." He averted his eyes. "If I were able to speak to the Emperor, I might be able to find out all his reasons for ordering the Library burned. But as it is, I cannot answer the questions that haunt Drosos, and—"
Olivia rose. "It wouldn't matter. Even if the Emperor gave his reasons to Drosos, it wouldn't end his doubts, not now." She sighed. "What does a peasant from Macedonia know about the value of books?"
Belisarius looked up sharply, his hand raised in warning. "It isn't wise to be so outspoken in this house."
"I have said the same thing in my own house and I am certain that there are spies." She walked toward the tall window that was open on the garden. "Your Emperor began life as a peasant. He was not much different from others, except in his ambitions."
"In his vision," Belisarius corrected her, an edge in his voice.
"Call it what you will; he aspired to more than the life of a peasant—will that do?" She shook her head. "He has no concept of the worth of those books, of the tradition he has ruined."
"If the Emperor believes that the burning was necessary, then it is not for us to question him." Belisarius spoke with conviction.