The next two hours disappeared in a whirlwind, as they ate and drank their fill of some of the finest cuisine they had ever enjoyed. When Constan had finished seeing all three couples to their rooms he went back down stairs and asked Olivia, “Where might a single gentleman with coin, find his way into a good time tonight?”
Olivia, looked Constan up and down, with her brown eyes and smirked knowingly, “Madame Meretrix’s has what you seek. As luck would have it, her establishment is just across the street.”
Constan smiled at Olivia pulled a silver hexagram from his purse and flipped it to Olivia, “Much obliged lass.” Olivia caught the coin and it too disappeared into her bosom.
Constan turned and walked out of the Inn of the Wooden Sword. Stepping out into the darkness he immediately spied the brightly lit establishment across the street. For a moment he thought of Amata and a pang of guilt washed over him. He pushed the thought away with the justification, A man has needs. Especially after so much fighting and dying.
He took a deep breath and savored the cool night air for a moment, and then started walking across the street. In a few short moments he arrived at the stairs leading up into Madam Meretrix’s, the path forward was blocked by two hulking brutes.
The one on the left, a mountain of a man that was equal parts muscle and fat asked in slow heavily accented Greek, “What’s your business here?”
Constan smiled up at the brute and said, “Olivia sent me.”
The brute’s face broke into a smile, he was missing several teeth. The man stood to the side and opened the door for Constan. The entire time the other man simply stood there and looked on in silence. Constan nodded to the silent man as he walked past and stepped into the building.
Like the exterior, Madame Meretrix’s interior was brightly lit. The first room was awash in a gaudy clash of colors. The overall atmosphere of the establishment tried to convey the same level of refined elegance that could be seen at the Wooden Sword, but the attempt came off in a much more garish fashion.
Upon his entry an older woman, wearing far too much makeup, walked across the room to greet him. She smiled at him and said, “Welcome to my humble establishment. Whatever your appetite we stand ready to serve you this evening. What’s your pleasure?”
Constan returned the older woman’s smile and said, “I’ve been on campaign for a long time, and have built up quite an appetite. I’m seeking a comely woman, but not too comely, if ye know what I mean. Someone closer to me age. I want to be bedding a fine lass that is obtainable by me, but also has all her teeth. Someone with a smaller stature if ye have one. This is most important and would help me to feel more like a man again.”
The old woman paused to think for several moments and then smiled, “I think I know someone that would fulfill your desires quite well. Do you have the coin to pay for it?”
Constan patted the purse tied to his belt. The sounds of many coins rubbing together and clinking could be heard each time his hand touched the leather, “Aye, I’ve plenty of coin and up until now have had nowhere to spend it.”
“Excellent. I’m Madame Meretrix, and my business is your pleasure. Follow me.”
Meretrix turned around and slowly walked over to the nearby staircase leading to the upper levels of the establishment. Constan followed her, his impatience grew as Meretrix’s slow pace wore on his patience. I wish this sodden old hag would hurry it along. I want to get me rocks off already.
When they reached the third floor Meretrix turned to the right and began walking down a long hallway. The passageway was lit by several candles in brass candle holders on alternating sides of the hallway every third set of doors. Constan sighed audibly as the woman continued to walk at a slow pace. She turned around and said, “Your patience will be rewarded.”
When she reached the second to the last door in the very long hallway, she stopped, turned around, smiled up at Constan, stood to the side of the doorway, and pushed the door open for him, “Your pleasure lies within.” Meretrix said.
Constan smiled back at her and stepped into the dimly lit room. Meretrix pulled the door gently shut behind him. The room had translucent silks hanging from the ceiling of various colors. This had the effect of concealing the walls of the room, and the single figure within. The person, by the outline a shapely female, was sitting up on an enormous bed that dominated the room. She gestured with her the index finger of her right hand for him to come forward. From Constan’s perspective the lamp that lit the room stood somewhere behind her. This accentuated her outline, but concealed her features in shadow.
The room was scented with incense and perfumes. The combination of different smells overwhelmed Constan’s senses and began to arose him. As he moved forward, and pushed aside the silks obscuring his vision of the woman, his breath caught in his throat when he saw her for the first time. She smiled at him. Her large teeth caught the lamp light and reflected it.
Constan’s heartrate increased as he recognized those teeth and the rest of the person that went with them, “Amata?”
The woman’s features contorted from a seductive cast to one of horror, “Constan?” She tentatively replied and pulled a silken sheet up to cover her nudity.
“Aye. What are you doing here in Antioch, and why are you working in a.” He lost his voice abruptly as he started to choke on the word brothel.
“I thought you were dead. You never came back.” She replied.
“Merciful saints.” His voice trailed off and the silence in the air hung like a palatable barrier before he took a deep breath and continued, “I did come back for ye after the war. That’s when I made a dreadful mistake.” Constan said.
Tears began to fill Amata’s eyes as she said, “Liar! You never came back for me. I waited for you. As the months became years, I continued waiting, until I lost my parents. Eleven years in total I waited for you to come back and renew your promise to me. I thought you had perished in the war. Trying not to lose hope completely, I decided to come east trying to find word of you. So that I would know for sure.” Her voice faded away as she began sobbing.
Feeling unsteady on his feet, Constan, sat down on the edge of the large bed and faced Amata, “I did come back for ye. My timing was most unfortunate. When I returned, I spied you from a distance. Before I could call out to ye, ye jumped into another man’s arms.”
Amata paused for several moments and collected her thoughts. She then remembered the moment Constan referred to and nodded, “Nias, a good friend, his son had been born that day, and I was happy for him.”
“Aye, I know that now. At the time all I could see was ye in the arms of another man. I ran from that place, straight back into the army. I was such a fool. The army sent me up to the Danube frontier for a time. During the long nights far from the sun kissed lands of the Mare Nostrum, I reviewed the memories in me head of that terrible moment. I realized the mistake I had made, and was so filled with shame.”
Recognition dawned in Amata’s eyes, “My mother had said, a scarred man with an eye patch had asked about me that day. I always thought it was a friend of yours or perhaps a Dekanos come to tell me that you had perished in battle. I never realized it could have been you.”
Constan smiled bitterly, “Aye, ‘twas me.” He paused for a long moment and laughed bitterly, “Who would have thought the good lord would bring us back together like this?”
Amata, paused trying to resist the overwhelming urge to weep. Tears ran down her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around herself. Failing, her entire body began to shake as she sobbed. Constan, whose self-confidence in dealing with the fairer sex was at an all-time high after the sound advice he gave the younger men under him earlier in the evening, was at a complete loss on what to do next.
As Amata continued to sob, instinct took over and he moved toward the sobbing woman. He placed an arm around her and said, “There, there. It will be alright. God has brought us back together at last, we should be happy.”
Amata, modesty forgotten,
turned and wrapped her arms around him. Feeling the shuddering sobbing body of his lost love against him, Constan lost control of his own emotions and began weeping as well. They supported each other for a time, as they let the grief of many years of separation out.
They wept until their bodies were exhausted by the effort. Then they just held each other for a time in silence. Over this period of time, Constan became acutely aware of the body pressed up against his and his desire began to grow. Amata, feeling much of the same needs, looked up at the man that held her tight in his arms. She saw the single eye that looked down upon her, so filled with love.
Seeing that love, Amata smiled up at Constan. She pressed her lips to his, and they kissed. Lightly at first, as the memories of their time together courting in Constantinople came flooding back. As the yearnings of their bodies built the kiss became deeper and more insistent. Their tongues explored each other’s mouth. Constan’s manhood began to grow as he tasted Amata, Lord, she tastes so sweet. Her lips still feel pretty rough though, like a man’s. Why is that?
Feeling Constan’s growing member pressing into her, Amata began to rub the fabric that separated it from her. Constan let out a soft moan as the touch aroused him further. He ended the kiss and began to explore her body with his tongue. He quickly found his way to her breasts. He ran his tongue around her areolas. It was her turn to moan softly.
This exploration of each other continued for several minutes, until they could stand it no more. Amata, undid the belt that held Constan’s trousers up, and yanked them off. As they continued to kiss, she straddled him, grabbed his manhood with her left hand so that it pointed straight up at the ceiling. She then slowly lowered herself onto it.
They both let out a soft moan as he entered her. Constan opened his eyes and said, “I dreamed of this moment for years.”
Amata nodded by way of response, and the two started to move rhythmically. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster. Their movements slowly built until they reached a crescendo. Not able to hold the overwhelming desire to release back anymore, they shuddered in each other’s arms as they let go with loud moans of ecstasy.
They fell asleep that night in each other’s arms. For the first time in a long time Constan dreamed of a positive future with Amata by his side. For a short night the horrors of the invasion, the losses at Yarmuk, and Damascus were forgotten. The pair awoke to a loud banging on the door.
Constan groaned and then yelled, “Go away!”
A voice from the other side of the door responded, but Constan couldn’t make out what was said. Frustrated Constan yelled, “Find ye, own damn room. This one’s mine!”
The noise abated, and Constan looked down at Amata. She smiled back up at him and said, “Good morning tiger.”
Constan’s cheeks turned a deep crimson red at the inference and he stammered out, “Good morning luv.”
They embraced and kissed. For a time, they just held each other. Finally, Constan elected to address the issue that was top most in both of their minds, “Where do we go from here?”
Amata took in a breath to speak. Before she could say anything, they heard a key rattling in the door lock. The door swung open and within moments the room was filled with soldiers. They were attired in a manner similar to what Jerry and his companion had been wearing the day before at the gate. The only difference being that these men, all had a purple eagle embroidered on their left breast, about where the heart was.
One of the soldiers, he wore the uniform tunic of a Kentarches over his chainmail, stepped to the foot of the bed and asked, “Are you Tourmarches Constan commander of the 5th Parthica under Governor Maurice in Damascus?”
Constan replied with a simple, “Aye,” And then thought to add, “I was.”
Amata, in shock, blurted out, “Tourmarches?”
The man ignored her and continued, “I’m Kentarches Sander of the Imperial Tagmata. I’ve been directed to collect you and the rest of your men.”
“Whatever for? There isn’t a 5th Parthica anymore. Just leave us be. I’ve bled for the bloody Empire enough.” Constan replied tersely.
Sander ignored the later part of Constan’s statement and responded to the question, “You are to be brought before Emperor Heraclius, where you will answer charges brought against you by General Vahan.”
“What? Are ye mad? What charges could that bloody coward have possibly brought against me? He threw my boys into the breech at Yarmuk, and then abandoned us. Cost us the best Kentarches in the bloody Empire, that yellow bellied bastard did!” Constan roared back.
Sander took an involuntary step back as Constan’s rage slammed into him. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and said, “The Emperor and the General do not see things that way, Tourmarches.” Sander tossed Constan his clothes and added, “Dress yourself. You can come on your own two feet, or we can carry you. You’re choice.”
Constan leapt out of bed, forgetting his state of undress, and got in Sanders face, “Ye have no right to bring me in on charges from that man. He left us to die at Yarmuk, while he busied himself saving his own arse!”
Sander, snorted in disgust at the sight of the naked madman in front of him said, “As you wish, we’ll carry you.”
Before Constan could respond the world went black.
Chapter 50
Morning, October 10th 636, Antioch, Syria Province, Byzantium
Emperor Heraclius
Constan awoke with a pounding ache in his head. Groaning, he opened his eyes to see Athos’ face etched with concern, “Are you ok sir?” Athos asked.
“Where am I?” Constan asked.
Athos replied, “Were in a waiting room at the Imperial Palace. We are to appear before the Emperor, so that he can judge us for our failure at Yarmuk, and Damascus.”
Constan looked around the finely appointed room and saw that they were alone, with the exception of two imperial guards, “I was hoping that part was just a bad dream. Pity it’s not. Where are the others?”
Athos replied, “It’s just you and me. Baltazar, and Nasir, are only Dekanoses, so they are not to stand trial. As officers, you more so than me, we are considered responsible for the events that led to the failure of the 5th Parthica at Yarmuk, and again at Damascus.”
Constan’s eyes settled on the two guards standing by the only exit of the small room, “I don’t suppose ye could fetch me some wine?”
The guards ignored the question and continued to stand to either side of the door. The guard on the left side of the door right hand dropped down to the pommel of his Spatha. He stroked it absently mindedly as, Constan looked him up and down. Constan marveled at his appearance. Both guards were outfitted in resplendent plate mail that reflected the sunlight streaming in from windows set high in the wall. If we’d had fifty of these buggers in the palace at Damascus, we could have retaken the entire city. Constan thought to himself.
“Here sir allow me.” Athos handed Constan a gold cup and filled it to the brim with a jug of wine that had been sitting on a nearby table.
Constan sniffed the wine, This is the best smelling wine I’ve ever encountered. He thought to himself.
He took a tentative sip and allowed the liquid to settle onto his taste buds, “This is bloody damn good stuff!” Constan exclaimed.
“I was told by the servant girl that brought it, that it is from the Emperor’s personal stock.” Athos said.
Constan let out a low whistle, From the Emperor ye say? That doesn’t make any bloody sense.”
“While you were unconscious the maid servant said that the Emperor often enjoys giving the soon to be condemned one last luxury to enjoy.” Athos said.
Constan’s mouth slowly fell open and the blood drained from his face. With a shaking hand, Constan raised the cup to his lips and slowly sipped the wine. He allowed each small sip to settle onto his tongue to maximize his enjoyment of the flavor. Several hours past as the two men drank from the jug of wine until it was exhausted. The pounding in his head numbed tha
nks to his wine intake, and Constan drifted off to sleep. He woke with a start as the doors to the chamber were opened.
Standing in the doorway was a pale skinned individual with a clean-shaven head. The man wore red silken robes of a fine cut with gold trim, and several pieces of jewelry. The most prominent of which was a gold amulet that served as his badge of office, and several gaudy looking rings with large gemstones set in them.
The man cleared his throat before announcing in a high-pitched voice, “The Emperor will see you now.”
Both Athos and Constan were startled by the very high octave of the man’s voice, and stared at him for several seconds.
The guard on the right side of the door took a step forward, sneered at the two men and said, “Move your arses! You will not keep the Emperor waiting.”
Athos and Constan jumped to their feet and walked toward the man, which based on his amulet of office, was some sort of imperial chamberlain, or secretary. Constan wasn’t sure which, I can’t believe I’m going to meet the Emperor. All I ever wanted to be was one of the rank and file, and now I’m going to face imperial judgement for my failures as an officer! Constan’s mind shifted to the memories of his fallen soldiers. Many of them had become his friends during his time as a Dekanos in the 5th Parthica. Perhaps I deserve it.
As they walked down the long hallway that lead to the Imperial Audience chamber, the sounds of their footsteps echoed off the cavernous walls. Constan glanced up at the ceiling, which was decorated with mosaics of angels and prayed, Nikas old friend. Could ye put in a good word with the Lord for me? I’m going to need all the sodden help I can get if I’m going to survive the next hour. Constan finished his prayer by making the sign of the cross.
They reached a large set of brass plated double doors at the end of the hallway. The immense doors towered over them and must have been around ten feet tall. The finely crafted brass, was polished to such a high level that they could actually see their reflections in the pale colored metal.
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 73
