"That is what Drosos tells me, too. I can't understand. You have to forgive me," she said, turning away from the garden to look squarely at Belisarius. "You are Byzantine; I am Roman."
Belisarius strove to make light of her words. "I allow that there are differences, but we are all Christians, and we all bow to the same altars."
Olivia could say nothing in response; she stared blindly at the roses, hoping to quell the anguish she felt: Drosos, Belisarius, Antonina, Chrysanthos, herself; all of them were caught in a labyrinth. Her attention was caught by a bee that had strayed too deeply into the heart of a rose and had been entrapped by a spider. Now it lay in its filament-prison, enmeshed in bonds that were all but invisible.
Belisarius spoke, but not to Olivia. "What is it, Simones?" he said to the slave who had come to the door and made a deep reverence.
"It is your wife, General. She would like a little of your time. She apologizes for this intrusion." He lowered his head in Olivia's direction.
"Is she—?"
"She wishes to see you," Simones said, his tone and attitude wholly neutral.
Belisarius was on his feet. "I will come at once," he said, adding to Olivia, "It is most improper to leave you without escort in my house, but—"
"What nonsense," Olivia said, silencing him. "I will come with you, if you don't object, and if she is willing to see me, I would be delighted to visit with Antonina." She did not wait for him to make up his mind but followed him out of the room.
"She might be too ill—" Belisarius warned her.
"Then I will return to your reception room, or you may dismiss me." She kept pace with him, her attitude pragmatic, her words crisp.
"It isn't correct," was the only observation he made to her suggestions.
"I don't care if it is or is not," she told him. "Your wife needs your help." She halted at the door to Antonina's apartments and stopped Belisarius. "Believe me, my friend, I am sorry that you are in such travail. I am sorry that your wife is ill. You will not offend me if you give her trouble precedence over mine; if you did not, I would be displeased."
"Thank you," he said, and went through the door that Simones held open for him. "I will find out if she is willing to see you."
"Your august lady is not able to rise from her bed," Simones said to Belisarius, pointedly ignoring Olivia.
"Let me speak with her," Belisarius said, directing this to Olivia. "I will return directly."
"If you like, my master, I will bear a message," Simones volunteered.
"No," said Belisarius. "If Olivia has questions, it is for me as her sponsor to answer them." With that, he entered his wife's quarter, indicating that Simones should wait with Olivia.
"My mistress suffers much with her disorder," Simones informed Olivia in his most daunting manner.
"I understand that she has been failing; it saddens me to hear of it." What would Simones think, she wondered, if he knew how many times she had expressed similar feelings over the centuries? What would Simones do if she described all the losses she had endured in her five hundred years. "It is always difficult to lose those we love. Both your mistress and master have grief in their hearts."
Simones glared at her.
In a short while Belisarius returned. "Antonina would be pleased to speak with you for a time, Olivia. You must not be too upset by her appearance. She has lost flesh and her pain has… changed her." He led her through the door, closing it on Simones. "Come." In an undervoice he added, "I am grateful to you for doing this. Many of her friends have ceased to visit her and that has been as hard a burden as her illness."
Olivia nodded once. "They are afraid," she said.
"Why should they fear? If there were contagion here, others would be ill, but it is only she." He paused at the door to Antonina's room.
"They are afraid because they fear their time will come," said Olivia gently. "It isn't the illness, it is the inevitability that terrifies them."
Belisarius regarded her uncertainly. He pressed the latch and opened the door. "My dear wife," he said as he approached Antonina's bed, "Olivia Clemens has come to see you."
"You are welcome, friend of my husband," Antonina said, more cordial than she had ever been; her voice was low and harsh, no longer musical.
"God give you a good recovery, August Lady," Olivia said with formal kindness.
"It will be God and God alone who does," said Antonina. She was indeed much changed. Her dark hair was now the color of tarnished silver, with a wide swath of chalk white through it. Her skin, always pale, had turned almost lunar, and there were deep hollows in her cheeks; her eyes were sunken but enormous and shiny with fever.
"Then we will pray for you, all of those who know you and care for you," said Olivia, aware that the woman was in agony.
"We're grateful for your prayers," Belisarius said when Antonina said nothing to Olivia.
"I have heard that you had goods taken from your house," Antonina said, making the information a challenge.
"Unfortunately I have been suspected of illegal activities and the Censor desires to clear up the matter before deciding on my petition to leave the city." Olivia watched Antonina as she spoke, a question unspoken in her eyes.
"You wish to leave Konstantinoupolis?" Antonina said with astonishment. "How can you prefer to live in another place?"
"I am a stranger here," Olivia said simply.
"Where would you not be a stranger?" Antonina inquired. She was breathing a bit too fast and a dull flush had spread over her cheeks.
"Roma, of course, but that isn't possible," Olivia said with an ironic smile. "You have been most gracious to me, Antonina, and I thank you for all you have done. Yet I know that I must find another… home." She moved a little nearer the bed.
"What foolishness," said Antonina, glancing to her husband for agreement. "Why have you agreed to this."
"Because she has been subjected to interferences. I know that she does not ask this capriciously." He sat on the bed beside his wife. "How are you, my dearest?"
"I endure," she said fatalistically. "The physician has given me another potion, but—" She did not bother to finish.
Olivia was more attentive than before. "Your physician? You are attended by a physician?"
"An excellent and pious man. My slave Simones found him for me and has watched over me while this Mnenodatos has administered his treatments." She leaned back against the cushions piled behind her. "I am alive today, I think, because of the skill of this man."
"Truly?" Olivia said. "That is an impressive recommendation. It takes a gifted healer to earn such praise."
Belisarius caught the hard note in Olivia's tone, and he glanced at her in surprise. "Olivia?"
"There are a few matters I must discuss with you before I leave," she said smoothly to him. "You are generous, Antonina, to permit me to take up your husband's time. I thank you for the consideration you show me." She emphasized this with a slight reverence to the woman in bed.
"He is a comfort to me. My husband is always steadfast." She patted his hand, and then said in a very small voice, "I did not know until recently how great a strength he is."
Olivia found it hard to speak. "You… you are fortunate to know this now. Many another has…"As her words faded, she made an odd, protective motion with her hands.
"It has been solace to me," Antonina went on, speaking entirely to Belisarius. "If you were not here, I would be long in my grave."
"Antonina—" Belisarius said, trying to moderate her emotions, concerned about the hectic brightness in her eyes and cheeks.
"It is true, it is true," she said, her grip on his hands tightening with convulsive strength. "You are my good angel, and I thank God and His Mercy for making me see this at last." Her face grew more pinched, but she went on talking. "I was angry with my blessed husband, do you see? I was certain that he had failed me when he was removed from command and returned to this city. I thought that he had been part of a conspiracy and that it had not succeeded and he had been found out." She gave a dry, hacking cough.