Felix was not in the habit of turning down invitations from attractive women. Besides, he argued to himself, it might be dangerous to refuse the whim of a powerful patrician.
He exhaled and started down the tiers. The tramp of his newly cleaned boots echoed loudly.
In the dimness, the Hall of the Nineteen Couches was a long, black escarpment. The limited portion of the palace grounds Felix could see was mostly dark. A torch flared beneath a colonnade. There was a light behind the latticed window of the Octagon atop the Daphne. Another light shone from a window at the far end of the hall.
Was Antonina waiting there? Or someone else?
He crossed the terrace. At first he thought the covered passageway leading into the hall had been left unguarded. A soldier stepped out into his path.
He drew his sword. Then realized it was only the statue of a former emperor, emerging from the shadows as his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom.
The interior of the hall felt colder than the gardens outside. The curtains separating the reception area from the dining space were open, allowing him to look down the entire length of the building. He might have been in a high, narrow subterranean chamber. A gargantuan mithraeum. He could barely make out the shadowy shape of the imperial table in the center. Other tables sat near the walls, each surrounded by couches where diners could recline in the ancient Roman manner seldom followed these days.
The only illumination came from several candles on a table in the far corner of the hall. Felix walked warily toward the trembling lights, keeping to the middle of the room. As he drew near he saw that Antonina had kept their appointment.
She reclined on a red upholstered couch which perched on gilded gryphon’s feet. Her own feet pulled up under the lavender billows of her silk robes were bare, judging from the dainty black slippers sitting on the mosaic floor beside a taloned paw. A gold circlet encrusted with pearls held her unruly blonde hair lightly in check. Strands of larger pearls encircled her neck and fell across her bodice. The delicate pearl cascades of her earrings swung lazily as she turned her face toward him.
“Felix! You have come after all. You are a courageous man.”
“Should I be afraid to meet you?” His voice had a hollow ring in the dark, empty space.
“Of course not. But I can tell from the way you approach that Narses told you who I am. That nasty little eunuch has spoiled my surprise. Put your sword away. Do you always approach ladies with your weapon drawn?”
Felix had forgotten he was holding his sword. He slipped it back into its scabbard. “A common soldier shouldn’t be meeting a lady of the court alone like this,” he muttered, glancing around. He couldn’t see any guards or servants but surely they were observing from somewhere nearby, from a doorway concealed in shadows or from behind one of the hall’s silver columns. Antonina said nothing nor did her expression reveal anything. “Then again a common soldier cannot very well disobey a lady’s command,” Felix added.
“You call yourself a common soldier? I thought you were great friends with Narses.”
“Does one such as Narses have true friends?”
Antonina laughed. “Well said, Felix. Sit down now.”
A bare arm emerged from the loose silken garments as she reached out to pat the couch that had been pulled up, head to head with her own.
Felix followed orders. As he moved toward the couch the air turned warm. For an irrational moment he imagined the heat was radiating from the silk clad woman, then he spotted a tripod brazier filled with embers.
He was not sure how to arrange himself on a couch. More often than not he ate while seated on a stool. Propped up awkwardly on one elbow he felt like a fool and exceedingly uncomfortable. The sheathed sword dug into his side.
At Antonina’s behest he willingly filled his goblet from one of the two golden carafes on the table, emptied it, and filled it again. His gaze wandered to an enormous bowl filled with delicacies. He took another gulp of wine.
“Do you know, Felix, the first time I saw you I knew we must meet in a more intimate setting. How has this magnificent bear got into the gardens, I said to myself. I was afraid if I were not careful he might devour me. Yet I was not entirely displeased by the prospect.”
She giggled.
For a long time neither spoke. Felix did not know what to say and Antonina did not offer assistance. She seemed content to stare at him, disconcertingly. Her eyes, which Felix remembered as being blue, glittered like pools of fire in the candle light. They looked enormous. He drank mechanically. The wine helped a little. It made everything feel like a dream. The flickering light accentuated the crows feet around Antonina’s eyes. She was older than Felix, in addition to being far above his station.
“My father was a charioteer,” Antonina finally said, as if reading his thought. “My mother was an actress. How thrilled they would have been to see their daughter dining at the palace with a member of the imperial guards.”
“But you are a lady now and a friend of the empress.” What could that mean for him, Felix found himself wondering. The lover of a confidante of the empress could hardly remain a lowly excubitor, could he? And the husband of such a woman would certainly be a general.
“Theodora and I share humble backgrounds,” Antonina said. “Her father worked at the Hippodrome the same as mine did. He was a bear keeper.”
Felix lowered the goblet from his face. “And the empress was an actress, like your mother.” His words came out slurred. “The two of you must have a lot to talk about. When most court ladies were lying about being pampered, the two of you were working your way up.” Felix stared numbly into his goblet. He frowned. Had he actually said that?
Antonina laughed again. “I admire a man who says what’s on his mind. How tired I am of all the fops at court, lisping around in circles, in mortal fear they might utter a few words that actually mean something and thus might offend someone who must not be offended. You are not from the court, are you?”
“My forbears were German. I am a citizen of Rome.” He said thickly. “This is excellent wine, but very strong.”
Antonina shifted on her couch. He felt her fingers touch his shoulder, then her warm breath fell against his neck as she whispered in his ear. “Don’t worry, Felix. This wine is special. It will not prevent you from doing whatever I desire. Quite the contrary.”
What did she desire? This time, he had not spoken the thought aloud. Had he? As a young soldier he had lain with women in many places-on the thin mat of an Egyptian brothel, the mossy bank of a stream, the sand drifting against the weathered altar of a ruined temple. But to lie with a lady of the court, a personal friend of the empress, in the Hall of the Nineteen Couches….
“What is the matter?” Antonina asked softly. “”Why does your hand shake? Let me pour you some more of this fine wine.”
***
After what seemed like several nights had passed and the sun still hadn’t risen, John gave up on sleep. He pushed aside his cover and swung his feet over the edge of the thin mattress, making the bed frame squeak. A walk in the gardens would refresh him. He could sleep some other night.
The servants had laid out his clothes the previous evening. They would have dressed him in the mornings if he were to allow it. He pulled the dalmatic over his linen tunica. The over-garment was wool with dark blue trim at the sleeves and hem, slit at the sides for ease in walking. He despised the stiff, heavy, embroidered costumes required for formal events at the imperial court. He felt imprisoned in them, paralyzed, weighed down.
He fastened his belt, ensured his short blade was in its scabbard, and then put on his well worn calf-length boots. He reached for his long, woolen cloak, then decided a brisk pace would keep him warm enough.