Shadow of Ararat

THE HOUSE OF DE’ORELIO, THE QUIRINAL HILL, ROMA MATER

H

A bell tinkled in the darkness, a clear silver note. Anastasia’s violet eyes flickered open. A sliver of moonlight fell through the gauze curtains of the broad win dow across the room, only barely illuminating the furniture and the thick rugs that covered the floors. The lady sighed silently and raised herself up. Silk sheets slipped away from her body, exposing smooth bare skin to the cool night air.

“Yes?” she said into the darkness. Her voice was thick with fatigue, and she ran a hand through the unruly pile of curls on her head. At the sound of her voice, a shape stirred by the door and there was a clicking sound as the bar was drawn back.

“Mistress?” The door opened slightly, letting a ray of lantern light cut the darkness in the room. “The lord Prince requests a moment of your time.” The tentative voice was Betia’s, her new handmaiden. The little blond girl was still tremendously nervous around her mistress. The servants were sure that the “mysterious” disappearance of Krista had been the result of disobeying the mistress of the house.

Anastasia blinked twice and drew the sheets back up over her chest with one arm. The light from the lantern had fallen across her breasts and half of her face. “Lord Aure-lian, or Lord Maxian?”

“The Caesar Maxian, my lady. He is waiting downstairs.”

Anastasia sighed-some nights seemed to have no end. “Oh, bother. Well, send the young man up.”

“Here?” Betia squeaked, her voice filled with astonishment. “The bedroom?”

“Yes, dear,” Anastasia said dryly, “we mustn’t keep the Prince waiting.”

Betia scampered away, her little feet making a pitter-patter on the tiles of the hallway. Anastasia fluffed her hair with her hands and then rearranged the pillows on the bed to make a backrest. Sighing again, for she was very tired, she pushed the quilts off the bed, leaving only a single, almost sheer, sheet to cover herself.

“Tros,” she said to the slave standing in the shadows behind the door. “Be a dear and light half of the lanterns.”

The slave, a hulking Islander with long black hair, moved from lantern to lantern, lighting them with a smoldering punk. Anastasia lay back among the pillows, adjusting them slightly to better present herself. Footsteps fell in the hall- I way, the sound of heavy boots and a man’s tread.

“Hsst!” Anastasia motioned for the slave to leave. With an inscrutable look upon his face, the Islander slipped out the doors leading onto the balcony, drawing his gladius while he did so. The Duchess moistened her lips and raised an eyebrow as the door opened.

“Lady de’Orelio,” Maxian said, turning to close the door firmly behind him. “I apologize for the lateness of the hour…” He turned around and stopped, his next sentence forgotten. To cover the flush of red that brushed over his face, he bowed deeply. “Pardon me, my lady, I did not know that you had retired already.”

“Oh,” Anastasia said, her voice low, “think nothing of it. I have often thought of entertaining you late at night.” Maxian’s nostrils flared at the laughter hiding in her voice, but he kept his face expressionless. The room was lit by low warm lights placed about the periphery, beeswax candles by the hue of the light. The Duchess looked magnificent in the dim light and the shimmer of the flimsy cover that lay over her body. He looked away and picked up a chair by the window, moving it to the foot of the bed.

“Given the hour, and your inconvenience, I will be blunt. I have something of yours, something that you’ve mislaid. I apologize for not returning it promptly, but I was occupied with other matters.”

The Duchess sat up straighter, cocking her head to one side. Maxian swallowed as the sheet slipped very low, only being caught by one fine white hand at the last moment. She drew up one leg, pointing the toe. “I must profess ignorance, my Lord Caesar, I did not realize that I was missing anything. What, pray tell, is it?”

Maxian settled back in the low chair, crossing his right leg over his left leg. He met her eyes steadily, feeling a subtle change in the tension between the two of them. In the warm light, her pale-violet eyes seemed quite large. He bit his tongue.

“One of your servants, lady, was found lost on a property of mine. My own guardsmen took her into their custody but neglected to inform me of this for a time.”

“Krista?” An edge of anger crept into the Duchess’s voice, and she sat up fully, drawing her legs underneath her. The sheet pulled tight under her hand, clinging to the curve of her stomach like a skin of oil. “Did you punish her? If you have not done so, I surely will if you return her.”

Maxian smiled a little, seeing the spark in Anastasia’s eye. Ah, so she went off without permission… A reckless slave, and I do not think she understands what we are about!

“Truth to tell, Duchess,” he said, standing up and smoothing his tunic down, “I was rather pleased to see her when she was brought to my attention. I had neglected to bring any servants with me from the palace and she has done wonders for my household.” He walked to the side of the bed and sat down, catching the edge of the sheet with his hip. The Duchess’s eyes widened a bit.

“I am pleased that she… satisfies you, my lord.” The sheet crept out of Anastasia’s hand, inch by inch. Maxian swung his right leg up onto the bed and the movement made the last bit of fabric slip out of the Duchess’s hand. She hissed softly at the touch of cold air.

“I cannot say,” Maxian said, leaning closer to Anastasia, “that I have ever had anything but complete satisfaction in my dealings with the House de’Orelio. Indeed, the thought moves me to a proposition.”

“Really?” Duchess the purred, turning her face toward him. Her right hand fell to rest on his. thigh. “What do you desire of the House de’Orelio tonight?”

“I would like to keep this servant, my lady. A well-run household is worth a great deal to me. What will you take for her, coin or trade?” Maxian gathered the edge of the fallen sheet in his hand, feeling the silk slide over her skin as he covered her stomach and breast again. She was very warm under his palm.

“Oh, trade will do, my lord. But at such an hour, you will have to offer a great deal to make it worth my while.”

His mouth covered hers and she fell back, her fingernails digging into his shoulder.