by Speer, Flora
“Don’t you ever go out?” Lenora asked, incredulous. “Don’t you want to see what is happening beyond the walls of this house? Wouldn’t you like to travel and learn something of the world?”
“The best of everything in the world is here in Constantinople,” Eirena responded. “I cannot imagine why anyone would want to leave it. We have our villa on the Bosporus, and I go there each summer. That is far enough from the Holy City.”
“But your menfolk must travel, to trade. Erik has told me of all the merchandise that comes here from all over the world, and I have seen a little of the bazaar.”
“The merchandise is brought to us. There is no reason for any of us to leave Greece, and those who do – soldiers on campaign, for instance, or the governors of foreign provinces – always long to return home. This city is the center of the world.” Eirena folded her hands complacently.
“You must feel very secure here,” Maura observed. “This house looks safe, and the city walls are so strong.”
“No one could ever imagine conquering us.” Eirena laughed. “We are invulnerable to any attack.”
“The Rus besieged you once,” Lenora reminded her.
“Their attempt failed.” Eirena’s placid confidence remained unshaken.
Lenora secretly resolved to speak to Erik. She was sure she could cajole him into taking her about the city, if only she could see him alone.
But she had no chance to do this before Basil returned home. There was a flurry of activity one afternoon, and one of the servants came to tell her and Maura to wear their best clothes to meet the master of the house at dinner.
They dressed in the best they had, Maura in a cream silk gown embroidered with red and gold roses. It was ridiculously short at ankle and wrists, but it set off her flaming red hair, which she had tied back with a ribbon, disdaining the ornate Byzantine hairstyles. Adequate sleep and plenty of food had done wonders for Maura. She was still timid, fearful that Snorri would somehow find her, but she looked better than Lenora had ever seen her.
Lenora had a gown of iridescent silk that shimmered now green, now gold as the light caught it. Two wide embroidered bands of gold ran down the front of the dress on either side, and a matching belt cinched her waist. Her chestnut hair was still streaked with gold from her long days in the sun, her skin glowing rosy-tan. She painted her face with new-found skill, then bound her hair into a loose knot, letting the errant curls straggle free about her face. Lenora saw her image in the silver hand mirror Eirena had given her guests and knew she looked beautiful. Eirena’s unkind comments about her tanned complexion meant nothing.
It was not usual for a merchant in Byzantine Constantinople to become wealthy. The government placed too many restrictions on trade and levied too many harsh taxes to pay for the luxurious Imperial Court and the military aspirations – and occasional military follies – of the Byzantine Emperors. Basil Panopoulos was an exception to the usual.
Basil had been clever enough to see the possibilities of doing business with the Rus, those wild, fur-clad men from the far north who, eight years earlier, had attacked Constantinople and then had begun trading with her. Basil did not hold the northerners in the same haughty disdain as did some of his fellow merchants. With the rescued Erik as willing interpreter, Basil had been among the first to deal with the Rus. Soon he was very rich.
It was not wise to flaunt one’s wealth. The spies of the government bureaucracy were everywhere, and not only exorbitant fines but public flogging and unpleasant forms of capital punishment were meted out to those who disobeyed regulations. Basil was careful. His two houses, though beautifully decorated, were not extravagant. His way of life was circumspect, his attendance at church services regular, his payment of taxes prompt but not too prompt, his donations to Orthodox monasteries and churches exactly what would be expected, almost to the last gold solidus.
His sister Eirena guessed at Basil’s fortune, but her guess fell far short of the reality. Eirena well knew her brother was rich and that she would never want for any material thing. If she wished, she could make a good marriage, with a handsome dowry, but Basil would not press her to do so. He liked having Eirena in his house, running it efficiently and providing just the degree of sisterly companionship that was all he needed at the end of a busy day. Basil had never married and was not interested in the various recreations and vices that his native city offered. His nature cautious to a fault, Basil was content with the quiet, private way of life the Orthodox Church recommended to its adherents. His work was his principal interest. Or it was, until the day he returned home from a trip to Thessalonica to learn his old friend Erik had returned from the north lands, bringing with him two strange women.
Basil was in his middle thirties. He was short, with brown eyes and curly brown hair carefully combed to cover a growing bald spot. He looked remarkably like his sister, but there was in him a restless energy that Eirena lacked.
Lenora noticed this at once. Basil prowled about the room, never lighting anywhere for long. When he did sit he crossed his legs and constantly swung his lower leg back and forth. His hands moved expressively when he talked.
He wore a brilliant orange-red tunic and a wide jeweled belt. He had several gold rings. He wore the heavy perfume favored by Greek men, but just enough of it to leave a pleasant fragrance behind him when he moved.
He was a congenial host, talking constantly on many subjects, asking questions of his guests, helping them to the various dishes of a splendid feast, of fish stew, two kinds of roast fowl with eggplant and artichokes, and fine white bread and the best wine from Chios, followed by sweetmeats and raisins. But there was something wrong, some underlying tension that grew during the evening between Basil and Erik, which Lenora could not ignore.
The women left the dining room shortly after the meal was finished, Eirena announcing in a tone permitting no opposition that they would now retire for the night.
Once in the bedchamber she shared with Maura, Lenora waited, standing by the window and listening to the distant sounds of the city.
“Aren’t you going to bed?” Maura asked.
“No, I’m going to see Erik.”
“We aren’t allowed out of this room at night. You know that. There is always a guard at the door.”
“Perhaps not tonight. With so much excitement over Basil’s homecoming, they may forget about us. It’s worth a try. I know where Erik’s room is now. I’ve learned my way around this house.”
Lenora waited a little longer, then slipped out the door. Her guess had been correct. No one was in the corridor. She hurried to Erik’s room, only to find it empty. She dared not linger, for there would be a servant coming soon to prepare his bed for sleep. She would have to come back later. She was about to leave when the door opened and Maura appeared.
“You frightened me,” Lenora whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to warn you. Eirena is still awake. I heard her talking to someone in the corridor. I think the guard will be at our door soon. Oh, and the men are still in the dining room. Eirena said so.”
“Let’s join them.”
“Do we dare? Eirena will be furious.”
“She doesn’t need to know. I have to see Erik without that woman around to interfere.”
“All right. I can keep watch, and if someone should find you with Erik, it won’t look so bad if I’m there too.”
“That’s a good idea, Maura, though I’m tired of always following Eirena’s rules for us. Come on, then.”
Silently they made their way along the corridor and down the wooden stairs, which creaked at every step. Lenora was sure they would be discovered, but they reached the dining room without meeting anyone, either the servants or the imperious mistress of the house.
They paused outside the half-closed wooden door, stopped by Basil’s angry voice, and now Lenora understood the tension she had recognized in him earlier.
“You came naked the first time and I took you in because m
y sister requested it. I fed and clothed you and gave you gold when you went home. Now you return, with two extra mouths to feed, and again you bring nothing. I do not call this friendship.”
Erik’s answering voice was full of humor, refusing to accept the offered insult. “Basil, you forget, I brought to you my connections with the Rus traders. Because of my friendship with the rulers of Kiev, you have made one fortune and will soon make another. That is payment enough for your former kindness to me. This time I come as a friend, as an equal. I want to stay in your city, as your partner.”
“That is impossible. There have been changes with the new Emperor, stricter regulations on foreign trade. Life is difficult these days for a poor merchant.”
“You are not poor, Basil.”
“In any case, you would not be permitted to stay in the city permanently. The last time you were injured and sick, and I had to pay entirely too much gold in bribes to keep you here. This time, three months is the limit. The Emperor himself would not change the new laws for you.”
“I see. Well, then, the women and I must go when our three months are over.”
Maura suddenly brushed past Lenora, pushed open the door, and ran into the dining room. She stopped before Basil, her creamy silk skirts swirling about her, her red hair gleaming in the candlelight like a fiery beacon. She looked like some angry northern goddess.
“No,” she cried. “We cannot leave. It’s safe here behind the walls. If we leave Miklagard, Snorri will find us again. I can’t bear that.” Maura burst into tears.
Lenora had never seen anyone cry so beautifully. Maura did not wrinkle up her face as she cried, nor did her nose turn red. Her skin retained its normal creamy tone. Maura’s soft gray eyes simply filled with glistening tears that ran down her cheeks in great round drops. Her long, dark lashes fluttered as she blinked. She sniffed delicately.
Basil rose from his chair with an angry exclamation. “Were you eavesdropping?” he accused.
“No, no, we came to find Erik.” Maura gestured toward Lenora, who had followed her into the room. “I only heard a little, but it was more than enough. Basil, you can’t be cruel and send us away, just when we have found safety. I know you are a kind man. Please help us.” Once more Maura was overcome with tears as she looked at Basil with a piteous expression.
Lenora saw Basil’s face change as he regarded the slender, flame-haired creature before him. Basil’s stern anger disappeared when he tried to comfort Maura.
“Something will be done,” he assured her. He put one arm around Maura’s slim waist, and she bent toward him like a willow tree in a spring breeze. “Don’t worry, Maura, I’ll think of something. Please don’t cry.”
Maura’s head was now on Basil’s shoulder and he was patting her back as she wept. Since Maura was a full head taller than Basil it was an awkward position. Lenora noticed that Basil, unaware of any awkwardness, had taken on a protective attitude. Struggling to subdue a giggle, Lenora glanced at Erik and saw answering laughter in his eyes.
“Sit down, poulaki mou, my poor little bird. Sit here.” Basil led the still-weeping Maura to his own chair and settled her in it, tucking an extra cushion behind her back. He rapped out an order. “Erik, pour her a glass of wine.”
Erik, his face a study in careful self-control, obeyed. Basil held the glass to Maura’s lips, watching attentively as she drank.
“Everything will be all right,” Basil soothed. “Who is this Snorri? Why do you fear him? Tell me all about it.” He drew a second chair close to Maura and prepared to listen.
As Maura talked, Basil’s eyes remained fixed on her face, oblivious to everything else. Erik grinned at Lenora.
“Walk with me in the courtyard,” he suggested. “We aren’t needed here.”
Arm in arm, they circled the marble fountain. Its gentle splashing muffled the voices from the dining room, but Lenora could see Basil still sitting close to Maura and listening to her as though spellbound.
She forgot Basil and Maura as she felt Erik’s arms around her, and she lifted her face for a long, satisfying kiss.
“I’ve scarcely seen you since we came here,” she accused.
“I have been busy.”
“With Eirena?”
He laughed and kissed her again. “Not with Eirena. With Harald, making plans. It is always good to have an extra plan for an emergency.” Sensing the query that rose to her lips, he stopped it with a third kiss. “Ask me no questions inside these walls, my sweet Lenora. Trust me.”
“I do. Oh, Erik, if we must leave as Basil said, I don’t want to go away without seeing this city. I want to see the hippodrome and Santa Sophia and the golden statues, and all the other wonderful things you told me about, but Eirena won’t let us go out. She says virtuous women remain indoors unless they are going to church.”
“Does she? Yes, Eirena would say that.” He seemed amused.
“It’s like being in prison,” Lenora went on. “And worst of all, I never see you unless Eirena is there. I think she’s afraid of what we’ll do if we are ever alone together.”
“No doubt. Aren’t you afraid?” he teased.
“Not of you.”
“Then come to my room. Now.”
“Yes. But what about Maura?” Lenora glanced through the arch into the dining room, where Maura still sat talking to her host.
“She’s safe enough with Basil. She’ll keep him talking half the night. Come on. This way.”
Catching her hand, he led her through darkened halls, up a staircase at the back of the house, and thence to his room. The servant Lenora had feared meeting earlier had come and gone, leaving a single candle burning beside the luxurious, silk-covered bed. She heard Erik bolt the door behind them, and then she turned to see his outstretched arms. She went into them without hesitation.
His hard mouth covered her trembling, eager lips, leaving her aware of nothing but his presence. She clung to him, aching with swiftly stirred desire. She opened her mouth to lure him, and when she felt the moist surge of his tongue she answered with her own urgent thrusting. She would devour him if she could, and make his body completely one with hers. Her fingers trailed through his hair, kneaded his strong shoulders, dug into his back. His mouth slid along her throat as his hands tugged at the neckline of her gown. He was defeated by the silk fabric, which lay close at the base of her neck.
He let her go just long enough to lift the gleaming green-gold robe over her head and drop it on the floor. Her sheer linen under tunic followed the same route. She pulled at his tunic, helping him, until he, too, was completely naked. Then she was crushed against him, lost in the sweet sensation of flesh on flesh. His hands stroked slowly along her spine, leaving traces of fire in the wake of his fingertips. Before she could recover her breath his lips met hers in another passionate onslaught that sent her senses spinning.
He lifted her off her feet and carried her to his bed. There he tenderly laid her and, taking the candle, held it above her to gaze upon her body. His eyes traveled from her strong, slightly squared shoulders to the wonder of her full, rounded breasts with their rose-brown tips to her slender waist and gently curving belly. He scrutinized the rich promise of hips and thighs, missing no detail before he moved on to her long, beautifully formed legs and delicate, high-arched feet. And then he lifted his eyes slowly, lingering once more on each curve and hollow, until his attention rested on her lovely face.
She felt not the slightest shame as he looked at her, but moved about so he could see her better, preening for him while he smiled his pleasure. When at last he replaced the candle on the table by the bed, he bent his head and kissed the sensitive tip of each breast in turn, teasing them gently until they both stood erect and firm, and her breath came in soft gasps. He searched on, moving lower with calculated slowness, while his skillful hands turned her flesh to rosy fire.
They were very quiet. Lenora knew that in this house there was always someone listening, some servant nearby. They dared not speak above the
faintest whisper, but this stricture only intensified their passion, forcing them to communicate by touch and taste and the ardent movements of their bodies. The words they dared not utter aloud were spoken with eyes and fingertips, and silent lips and tongues, and finally by the deep, urgent union of both body and spirit that went on and on for a glorious eternity of sweet sensation until it ended in a long, soft sigh.
With infinite tenderness she brushed back his dark hair, smoothing down the white streak, stroking the Greek-style fringe over his forehead. He kissed her, his mouth a promise of yet more passion to come.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered into her ear, so softly she could hardly hear him, “I’ll take you to see a church near here. Eirena can’t object to such an excursion. We will talk then. Now I must take you back to your room.”
“Not yet,” she breathed. “Just a little longer.”
Her hands teased at him until he gave a smothered chuckle at his body’s response. He put his mouth against her ear. “You are a dangerous woman,” he murmured. “How could I let you go now?”
It was nearly dawn when they crept out of Erik’s chamber in their bare feet and tiptoed along the corridor to Lenora’s room at the other side of the house. The servant posted to guard the door sat on the floor, his head resting against the wall, snoring softly. With great care, Lenora opened the door and slipped silently inside. Erik waved and headed back to his own room as she closed the door.
Maura lay in the bed they shared, apparently sound asleep. Lenora stripped off her gown and slid into the unoccupied side. She was startled a few moments later by Maura’s quiet voice.
“Hasn’t it been a wonderful evening? Sleep well, Lenora.”
Chapter 26
The morning brought changes. Lenora was barely dressed when two elderly women appeared at the bedroom door, followed by the arrival of a young servant girl, reeling under a heavy load of brilliant fabrics and glittering trimmings. An irritated Eirena finished off this odd procession.
