Nobody touches before they pay.
Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
The streets had been quiet as we'd passed, oddly subdued. The few people we saw had quickly ducked out of our way, though we were in our tunicae and sandals.
Kostas' place, I was happy to see, was lively. Drunken soldiers weren't spilling out of the place, but there was enough of a crowd that we had to push our way past a few people. I led Helena to the back, where crusty old Kostas scowled from behind his bar.
"Kostas," I said, leaning against the bar. "I promised this Rhodian lady some pitaroudia. Are you going to disappoint her?"
"Rhodian?" He said, suddenly a lot less grouchy looking.
"From Lindos," Helena said.
We chatted for a bit, swapping the latest bit of island news that we had while Kostas poured us a couple of flagons of dark wine. The food would be ready in a few minutes, he told us.
"She's paying," I said, when I spotted Kostas' young son.
The kid was coming back with an empty drink tray. I hooked him by the arm, leading him away. I put a silver coin in his hand, promising him another if he'd fetch something for me.
Helena looked at me curiously, but I kept my mouth shut against her silent question.
"Centenarius!" I heard a voice call. "Leontius!"
I turned, already feeling a grin stretching my features. At a nearby table, five men were waving towards me. They wore happy smiles, their cheeks rosy with wine.
"Sergius! You old bastard! What the hell are you doing here?"
Sergius, a crusty old stratiotai with more scars on him than most had years, made a show of cupping one ear.
"Can't hear you so good, sir! Come here and whisper it to me."
The men at his table laughed. I did too, shaking my head.
"Friends of yours?" Helena asked.
"Men from my old cohort," I said. "Come on, I'll introduce you."
Helena's body tightened. I saw that same expression flash across her features. Resignation? Consternation? I wasn't sure. Even here, away from the dark street, I wasn't sure exactly what I'd seen. It was gone too fast.
"Sure," she said, stepping forward and forcing me to move after her.
The men rose to meet me, and I greeted each with a rough embrace and a few rougher words. Sergius, Gratian, Suda, Maurice and Niketas; as good a squad of stratiotai that had ever served in Justinian's legions.
"Boys, this is Helena," I said as we sat in the chairs pulled over for us. "My shield mate. She guards the Empress with me."
Sergius blinked. Maurice choked on his wine while Suda and Niketas glanced at each other in disbelief. Helena, however, seemed to loosen. Her gaze flicked to me, and I saw the faint crinkle of something disappear from the corners of her eyes.
Gratian, horse's ass that he was, guffawed.
"Come on, Centenarius," he said. He was seated on Helena's other side, and took the opportunity to drape one arm around her shoulders. "You can't expect us to believe that sweet little thing fights beside you?"
Whatever else I could say about Gratian, and there was a lot, I couldn't fault his eye.
Helena was in her tunica, cut in the same simple, utilitarian shape as my own. It was loose, ending just above her knees and doing nothing to accentuate the feminine curves of her body. However, unlike the wrinkled, slightly stained pale gray of my tunica, hers had been dyed a deep green.
It was near to the cypress of her eyes. It made them appear brighter, and more vivid than I'd ever seen them. The green brought out the copper of her hair, deepening it and adding layers to those tumbling waves.
She was beautiful; the field of grass after rain.
"You think I'm sweet?" Helena said, lips curling into a small smile.
"Sweet enough to eat," he said. His eyes roved up and down her body. "How much?"
Helena stayed relaxed. That small smile never left her lips.
"I'm good, too." Gratian insisted. "You'll see. My phallus's so good that you should be the one paying me!"
He snickered through his leering grin. I shook my head when Sergius opened his mouth to interfere. Although I needn't have. Because, an instant later, Helena's fist crunched into Gratian's throat.
He gagged, falling backwards, his chair crashing to the ground. The tavern fell silent, all eyes on Helena as she slowly stood. Helena's eyes swept the room. There was a heartbeat of silence, and then two. Her lip suddenly quirked.
"Nobody touches before they pay."
The room exploded with laughter, covering the sound of Gratian's moaning. Helena sat back down, while I moved to help the man pick himself off the floor.
"I'll kill her," he choked. "I'll fucking kill that bitch."
"Shut up," I said, loud enough for the others to hear. "She'd gut you like a fish. And I'd cut off whatever bits my shield mate left of you."
I pulled him up, and made a show of checking him over. I hissed into his ear. "You stupid bastard. Helena's the Empress' personal guard. Do you want your head to the decorate palace walls?"
Gratian's face blanched. He started to stammer something but I pushed him away. "I told you to shut the fuck up. Go get us some more wine."
"Whatever Kostas hasn't pissed in for me," Helena called.
Sergius grin was wide. "Good punch, that. It’s the only way to get him to shut his hole."
"Aye," Niketas said, draining his cup. He burped. "Finally, some fucking peace."
"Centenarius," Maurice said, leaning forward. "No offense to your lady, but a shield mate? Are you sure about this?"
"This lady," Helena said. "Can speak for herself. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you mean."
Maurice complied. "You're a woman. You're real pretty, I'll give you that, but you don't know what this means."
"I don't need a phallus to piss standing up. Why would I need one to hold up a shield?"
Maurice smirked. "Cute. But it’s more than that, it’s,”
"Wait, you can piss standing up?" Gratian interrupted, returning with two clay pitchers of wine. "Seriously?"
The others groaned.
"That wasn't the point, Grat," Suda said. "Although, now I am a bit curious,”
"It’s easy," Helena said, throwing him a wink. "And I guarantee that I can piss better than Grat fucks."
Laughter rolled around the table. Even Gratian snickered, though heat crawled up his face. He started pouring the wine, filling Helena's cup and then mine.
"So, what the hell are you talking about, then?"
"If she can really be Leo's shield mate," Maurice said. "If she can fight."
"She knows what it means, Maur," I said. "She's good, too. Fast. And she's got some sense, unlike you thick-headed bastards."
"Good enough for me," Sergius said. "What do you say boys, we gonna keep her around?"
"Let’s drink!" Niketas said, grabbing his cup.
Sergius banged the table, hoisting his own cup into the air. "To Helena!"
"Helena!" We roared, slamming our empty cups down a few moments later.
Helena joined in, her smile wide and her cheeks flushed a happy red. Our pitaroudia arrived, and we fell to bickering over the platter of fried balls. They were delicious; tomato, onion and bits of a leafy herb mixed into a patty of ground chickpea.
These were rough men that lived rough lives. They were soldiers; killers that earned their coin in the grinding crush of the shield wall. They respected a foul mouth, a hard fist and loyalty to one's brothers.
They were stratiotai.
And when Helena clacked her cup with a still sheepish looking Gratian; I saw them start to think of her as one too.
"Leo never told me that he was a Centenarius," Helena eventually said.
I snorted. "That's because I'm not. These idiots just call me that."
"The crest on the helmet don't make the Centenarius," Suda drawled. "Ain't that right, Serg?"
"You're damned right about that, lad," the older man replied. "Some wise words there."
I rolled my eyes, the rest of the boys snickering into their cups. Sergius liked to share whatever kernels of wisdom popped into his head. We'd all heard this particular one a hundred times already.
"We call him that because of Callinicum," Sergius continued, answering Helena's question.
"Ah," she said. "You were all there?"
Sergius nodded, "and my bones would be decorating some Persian's trophy shelf if it wasn't for the Centenarius here. All of ours would."
The mood sobered, each of us remembering. I looked down to my hands; seeing the flecks of old, old blood beneath my fingernails. The ones I could never seem to clean.
"Was it bad?" Helena asked.
"Aye," Sergius answered. "The old Centenarius was a right stupid prick. He got himself killed in the first charge of the Sassanid horsemen. Leontius here took over after that. Things were real shaky for a bit, but he kept us from scattering and being cut to pieces. And when the general decided he'd had enough of watching us die, Leo got us retreating."
Nobody spoke for a while, memories holding us. Some of us put wine to our lips. I just stared out at nothing with unfocused eyes. The mood remained dark until Gratian, bless his fool soul, blurted out;
"Fuck, but Centenarius Demetrius was a prick."
That brought out a few chuckles. Niketas let out another burp, and Maurice swatted the back of his head. Most of us felt lighter after that. It didn't do any good to dwell on the past. The things we'd done, the friends we'd lost, It wasn't good to remember. Stratiotai had to live for the moment.
Maybe that was why I'd always been such a terrible soldier.
Midnight guard duty.
It was approaching midnight when Sergius hauled himself to his feet. He blinked bleary eyes, motioning to the others.
"Right boys, we've got patrol in the morning. Let's get moving."
The men swallowed their last mouthfuls of wine, said their goodbyes and stumbled away with various levels of coordination.
Sergius watched them go with a shake of his head. He riffled through a pouch at his side for a moment before turning back to me.
"I've got something for you here, Centenarius. It got to the barracks a week or so ago."
He held a folded envelope out towards me. It had my name on it, written out in my mother's blocky hand. I snatched it from him, quickly stuffing it away and out of sight. I didn't want to think about it, didn't want to ruin this night.
"It was good to see you, Leo," Sergius said. He pulled me to my feet, and pounded my back in a rough embrace. "Don't forget about us rankers while you're dining with nobles."
"Take care of yourself, Serg," I said, returning his embrace. "And, thank you."
"We're on garrison duty," the old soldier grinned. "What's going to happen in the capital?"
Sergius surprised Helena by pulling her into a hug next. "Keep your shield tight to his. Our Centenarius always seems to be around when shit is the deepest."
"I'll keep him the sword from his back," Helena said. "Though, it might loosen him up a bit."
The older man laughed. "It was good to meet you, lass. And remember, you've got a brother in old Sergius." With a last little wave, he ambled out and into the deepening night.
"You were right," Helena said, settling back. She popped the last of the pitaroudia in her mouth. "This is a great place."
"Even with Grat here?" I asked with a smile.
"Even still," she said, her lips curling upward. She put her elbow on the table, leaning her heads against her palm. "I'm happy that you introduced me to your friends. I didn't think it would be this, nice."
"It was," I said. I shifted in my seat, wanting to move my chair closer to her. But the movement jostled the letter in my pocket. Suddenly, my mother's words weighed more than a boulder. I shifted again, an awkward jerk of my body that accomplished nothing.
Helena's smile softened. She took pity on me, scooting over until her leg pressed against mine. I let out a breath, leaning back in my chair. We sat in silence for a while. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth, and the quiet murmur of the few remaining patrons.
"This was always my favorite part," I said, after a while. I opened my eyes to find Helena watching me, waiting for me to continue.
"A place like this," I said. "With the others; once the campaigns done. It's,”
I trailed off, trying to order my thoughts. How could I explain this to someone who'd never been to war? How did I tell her of the constant tension; of the anxious expectation that came with knowing that somewhere, beyond the light of your campfire, someone wanted you dead.
Kill or be killed; there was none of that here. I could drink with my friends, without wondering which of them I would lose. Or what I would have to do.
It was just; "different," I finished.
Helena didn't laugh. She didn't smile or tease. She just watched me with eyes that took in so much of me. I caught a glimpse of it; the edge that wondrous vastness behind her cypress gaze. She leaned into me, resting her head against my shoulder and letting out a long breath.
"Different," she said. "I like that."
My eyes suddenly prickled. I blinked furiously, trying to clear the wetness seeping into them. I turned, leaning my chin against her hair; breathing in the scent of her. I shifted my arm to pull her closer, my mother's letter forgotten.
"Leo," she said. "What would you do if you weren't a soldier?"
"I, I don't know," I said. "I've always been a soldier."
"But could you do it for ten more years?"
"What else would I do? My father was stratiotai, and his father and his father. I don't know anything else."
Helena shifted against my shoulder, her hair tickling my neck.
"What was your plan once you retired?"
I bobbed my shoulders in a small shrug, careful not to disturb her. "Go back to Rhodos. My mother is a seamstress. I'd help her run the shop."
"And marry a 'good' woman?" She said, her tone edged with mocking.
I didn't answer, though I tightened my grip on Helena. For a heartbeat, her body was stiff. Then, she let out another long breath, relaxing against me.
"What about something like this?" She asked, gesturing around us. "A tavern."
"Running a Winehouse?"
She pushed off of me, suddenly more animated. "Why not? You could open a soldier's tavern on Rhodos; make a place for old stratiotai."
"A peaceful place," I murmured.
"Exactly!" She grinned. "It’s a good idea, right?"
"I'd have to learn how to make pitaroudia," I said, feeling a smile tug at my lips.
"I'm sure Kostas will give you his recipe."
I laughed. "I'm a solider, Helena, not a cook. I think I even burned water once."
"You are a soldier," she said. Her eyes held mine. "But you can be something else."
I looked away, swallowing.
"You'll think about it?"
"Sure," I forced some lightness into my tone. "But only if you promise that you'd go out and catch fish for me every day."
Helena stiffened, her face suddenly bright red. Not the reaction I'd been expecting. Her eyes flicked over my face, searching. "You don't think I'd be better as the cook? Or serving drinks?"
"No," I said, not having to force my smile. "You belong on the sea, right?"
Her eyes were so wide. I felt my heart start to beat faster. That vastness, it was there, rising to the edge of her; on the verge of breaking through.
"Leo," she murmured. "I,”
She was interrupted by the thump of a pouch onto our table. I looked over to find Kostas' son standing by our table. The kid looked exhausted, but triumphant.
"You found what I asked for, then?" I said.
He nodded, holding out a grubby hand.
"Good man," I grinned, flipping him a silver coin. He disappeared without another word. I quickly disengaged myself from Helena to put the lumpy, medium sized pouch away.
"It’s a surprise," I told her. "For later."
She arched an eyebrow, but didn't press me. She downed her last mouthful of wine, letting out a happy sigh. "We have to come back here."
I nodded, bringing my own wine to my lips.
"It’s nice to see that you can relax without my cunny in your mouth."
I choked, spraying out a mouthful of wine. Helena laughed, that deep, joy-filled sound. She pounded my back as I coughed myself hoarse. My face blazed, and I felt the eyes of everyone turn towards me.
"Leo," she said. "You're defenseless."
I coughed, glaring at her through watery eyes.
"Come on," she said. "Let's get back to the palace."
We walked out into the night, breathing in the city's quiet. Although, it did not last long. We were but a handful of blocks from the Winehouse, when, out of the dark, we saw the fire.
And heard the baying of the mob.
A past shared with the Empress.
The baying of the mob. The glow of fire.
After a few moments of debate, Helena and I decided to move towards it. There were no screams of pain, no real sounds of violence coming from the streets ahead. We would see what there was, we decided, before returning to the Empress.
We came into a square; one with a small, torch-lit church planted solidly at the northern end. A few squads of armored stratiotai, perhaps forty men, stood before the single door. They were imperial legionaries, though I did not recognize any of the grim-faced men. They all looked outward, swords drawn.
Surrounding them, was the mob.
The seething body of humanity was all around them. They totally filled the square; men, women, children. The old and the young and the in-between. Their roar was the pounding of the tides; the blue and green flags they held, the rolling of the waves.
Helena and I pushed our way to the rear of the crowd. They were hurling rocks and taunts and empty flagons of wine towards the imperial soldiers. The mob ebbed and flowed, forwards and backwards, as the guards stuttered forward and edged back. We were wedged between stone and pressed bodies, close to where a wild-eyed man screamed from a top a heavy crate.
I gripped Helena's arm, leaning close to shout.
"Is that where the escaped prisoners are?"
She nodded. "Saint Akakios church. Should we help the guards?"
I shook my head vehemently. There was no way that I was getting involved in this. If the Centenarius here had any sense, he'd be pulling his men back.
And, sure enough, the soldiers started to fall back. The crowd roared; a fresh wave of stones and broken pottery raining down on the retreating men.
"See!" The man beside us shrieked. "They're weak, the Emperor is weak! No more taxes! No more oppression! Power to the Greens! Nika! Nika! "
The man pumped a sword into the air, something that he shouldn't be allowed, or afford to have.
His rallying cries were lost in the crowd's jubilance. Their voice was the tide surging through rock. It was a disjointed, chaotic maelstrom of sound that crashed into and swirled around itself. I heard calls to free the prisoners, to end the costly wars and remember the charioteers that died. Men screamed the perversion of change, while cries of Nika rose like plumes of spray from the boiling sea.
The church doors opened. Two men emerged, welcomed by the crowd's roar of joyful defiance. These were the two escape prisoners; a Blue and a Green. Though, right now, that didn't matter. I saw more unexplainable swords thrust into the air. The two colors blended together, united beneath a call of conquest.
"Nika! Nika! "
Helena and I exchange glances, my fear and unease mirrored within her. We retreated from the square a few moments later. We hurried away from the crowd, looping around and back towards the palace. We tried to avoid any other knots of people we found, breathing out a sigh of relief when the walls of the palace finally came into view.
"Things are really getting bad," I said.
We'd slowed our pace now that the walls had come into view. They were well lit, with wary-eyed Excubitors patrolling the parapets.
Helena nodded; her expression serious. "We need to speak to the Empress. The weapons they had,”
She trailed off, unsure, as I was, of the significance of what we'd seen.
"Aye," I said. "Let's get behind these walls."
The gates, two massive doors of heavy, iron-banded wood, were sealed shut.
I hammered my fist against it, stepping back into the pools of light provided by two, over-hanging lanterns.
"Who's there?" A voice called from above. It was an Excubitor, poking his head over the parapets.
"It’s us," Helena called back. "Open up."
The man took in our faces, eyes shifting to peer into the surrounding darkness.
"It’s you," he said. "You two alone? Why are you out so late?"
"None of your business," Helena said. "Let us in. We have to see the Empress."
"Yeah," he said. "Alright. I'll just come down and do that, then." He gave us a smile that set the hairs of my neck prickling.
"Don't go anywhere. I'll be down in just a minute."
He vanished without another word, though we could hear the rattle of his armor as he stomped down a flight of unseen stairs. I settled in for the wait, wondering at my sudden sense of unease.
"How long does this usually take?" I asked.
"Not long," Helena said.
I waited for more, but she didn't continue. Her attention was on the parapets. She was chewing her lip, eyes distant.
"I think," she eventually said, "that I've seen him before. I'm pretty sure that he's one of Doukas' friends."
"Who?"
"Senator Hypatius' son," she said, lip quirking. "Remember, that rich and powerful man's only son? The one you humiliated?"
I scowled at her.
Her eyes sparkled in the lantern light, though her mirth quickly faded. "We need to be careful."
"You think that he's going to get a few of his friends?"
"I think that it's an opportunity," she said.
I nodded, holding my arm out as if a shield was strapped to it. "Alright. By my side then, shield mate."
She flashed me a quick grin, sliding into place beside me. She hesitated a moment, before planting a quick kiss on my cheek. I smiled, an expression of pleased idiocy that I still wore when the gates swung open a few moments later.
Helena's instincts, unfortunately, proved to be accurate.
"Well," a familiar, aristocratic voice said. "There seem to be beggars at our door."
Doukas was there with four of other Excubitors, including the man we'd first spoken too. Hypatius' son was as pretty as I remembered, with smooth sink and pouty lips. The bruises I'd given him were fading quickly. He and the others were in their armor, wooden clubs held in their hands.
"A dirty farmer and a jumped-up little slut," he sneered. "Here, alone in the dark."
I rolled my eyes. Did this idiot think he was clever? The fools hadn't even tried to surround us. "How's the face, Doukas?"
Rage flashed across his features. He led his rich friends in a handful of steps forward, their clubs held out menacingly. Helena and I stayed put, though I gripped her arm.
"If anything happens," I hissed. "Follow my lead."
She jerked her head up and down, and I was pleased by the ready coldness I saw in her eyes. She really was turning into a real soldier, not one of these strutting cocks.
"We're the Empress' guard, Excubitor," Helena said, her voice frigid. "Let us through."
The anger disappeared from Doukas' face, replaced by the smile of a child ripping the wings off an insect.
"Ah, Cooper, don't be like that."
Helena sucked in a breath. She stiffened, spear straight. Doukas' grin widened.
"I admit, I didn't recognize you at first," he said. "Neither did a lot of my friends here. But once we got to talking, we managed to jog each other's memories. Here," he unhooked a pouch from his belt and tossed it towards us. It hit the cobbles with the metallic jingle of coins. "For old time's sake."
Helena had started to tremble. Her eyes were wide, flicking between the four men.
"Three and a half follis," Doukas said. He nodded to the coin purse. "That’s what you cost, right? It’s all there. Why don't you scoop that up and come into the alley with me?"
"And I'll take a roll after that," the man who'd spoken to us from the wall grinned.
"What the fuck is this?" I growled. This type of talk didn't usually bother me. But I could feel Helena trembling like a leaf, and my anger rose. "Pick up your fucking money."
"Paid is paid, farmer," Doukas said. "It’s not fair that you're the only one who gets a turn." He took another step forward, slapping the club into his hand.
"That's how she's getting you to train her, isn't it? I can't say that I blame you. Copper's tight little cunt is magic."
A third man snorted. "Come now, Doukas. You exaggerate. The whore was just another hole."
"Shut the fuck up," I said. "All of you."
Doukas laughed. "She didn't tell you, eh peasant? Our Copper here has been on her back since she was old enough to take it. We've all had a dip in her."
Helena bowed her head.
"God, that slut loved to work a phallus. Do you remember, Copper, how I made you scream?"
I looked over to Helena, my blood roaring in my ears. She was still shaking. She peered at me through the falling curtain of her hair. One look into her haunted, shattered eyes told me all I needed to know.
It was true.
Emotions surged up through me, but I shoved them all aside. I was statiotai, and now wasn't the time to get lost in my head. I tightened my grip on her arm.
"Ready, shield mate?"
"Come on," Doukas said. "Let's toss the beggar out and have our fun."
"Helena!" I roared, startling everyone. "Shield up!"
She snapped her gaze back up, in time to see the others charging towards us. I grinned, feeling the eager thunder of my heart.
"Are you ready?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered.
"Then, run!" I yanked her backwards, forcing her into a spin and pulling her after me as I bolted from the gate. I dragged her away, accelerating quickly. I don't care who you are, two soldiers in tunicas cannot beat four armed and armored men.
Even if it was these four shit-eaters.
The Excubitors roared, giving chase. Helena, I was pleased to see, found her footing after a few stumbling steps.
We stretched our legs, pulling far from the palace walls and into the night.
We lost ourselves in the city's darkness; streets and buildings blurring past us as we ran. My heartbeat slowed after a few minutes, the sound of pursuit fading behind us. Though we did not ease our pace.
Away from danger now, I felt my thoughts begin to swirl. Pieces clicked together in my mind, this final truth doing so much to explain the mystery surrounding my shield mate's past.
She was a woman dressed as a soldier; the Empress' guard with no real combat training. Her old friendship with Theodora and Antonina, her complete lack of bashfulness and even her bawdy sense of humor; all of it could be explained.
Helena had been an actress.
She must have known the Empress and Antonina from those days. Both of those women, I knew, had grown up desperately poor on Constantinople's streets. The Blues had taken them in when they were old enough, putting both women to work in their brothels and stage productions.
Helena's father had been a fisherman, her mother, dead in the weeks following her birth. She would have been poor as well, only a few bad days at sea from starvation. And for a young woman in the Empire, there were few ways to ward off hunger.
She'd started to sell her sex.
Copper, I thought, a stage name. A brothel name. I imagined the shine of her hair by candlelight, admitting that the name fit her.
The pounding of our feet on the cobbles was a familiar beat. I realized that we'd fallen back into our rhythm. The one that was most natural; that our bodies returned too when the mind was somewhere far away.
We ran at the pace that had become our training routine, one beside the other.
My earlier emotions started to leak back into my head. But the comfort of the pace, and the feel of Helena in her place by my side, helped smother my initial surge of revulsion. It shrieked to me in my mother's voice; all spite and judgement and hatred.
I let the air flow in and out of my lungs, Helena's breath, cycling with my own.
Nothing had changed. She was still there, right there, by my side. I felt all those ugly emotions flow out of me. The shape of her still fit there, as smoothly as it had before.
Nothing had changed. And when I looked back into myself, I saw nothing, not even the faintest imprint of that furious disgust.
So, Helena had been a whore? That was nothing compared so what I had done.
I hadn't been paying attention to where we ran, following wherever Helena led. She guided me through the city, past empty squares and street corners full of shouting people. We eventually came to a quiet place, the buildings here older, and shabbier than most.
We kept running, until we came to the sea.
We were far from the palace now, at a small dock along the edge of the Marmaran Sea. It was one of those warm, cloudless summer nights. The moon was bright against the inky darkness of the water.
Helena slowed to a walk, and so did I. I kept beside her, following her onto a short wooden pier. Neither of us spoke, though even in the deepest night, a dock was never silent. The sea lapped against the shore and the wooden pilings. Boats creaked, thumping rhythmically against whatever they'd been fastened.
I breathed deeply; comforted by the scent of salt and old fish. It smelled like Rhodos, like home.
"This is the last place I saw my father," Helena said, coming to the edge of the pier. "He left one morning in his little fishing boat. And he never came back."
She was silent for a few moments, gazing out and away from the city. I stood with her, feeling the sweat on my body start to cool.
"I know what you're thinking, Leo. Just say it."
She'd taken a step back from me, her arms crossed over her chest. She couldn't meet my eyes, curled away from me so that she wouldn't see the blow she was sure I'd give her. She was ready to take it; my scorn, disgust and condemnation.
That expression on her face, so different from the brightness of her smile, broke something in me.
She'd sold her body for money. She'd been a whore, but I was a butcher. A killer. How was it, that of the two of us, it was her that felt vile? Why should she be the one to cringe from my revulsion?
"Say it, Leo," she said. "Come on!"
Her voice had risen, tinged with the desperate need to end this wait. To let whatever was going to happen, happen.
"Will you sit with me?" I said, lowering myself to the dock.
I didn't look at her, staring out with my legs dangling until I eventually felt her sit beside me. I pulled out the pouch that I'd gotten from Kostas' son, teasing it open and handing it her.
"Here," I said. "Have one."
Helena peered inside, staring back up at me in disbelief.
"Honeyed figs?" She said. "Are these honeyed figs?"
I nodded. "They're your favorite, right?"
And then, all at once, her expression of raw vulnerability and confusion vanished. Replaced by rage.
"Honeyed figs?" She screamed. "You got me honeyed, fucking figs?"
She slammed the pouch back into my chest.
"I'm a whore, Leo! A fucking whore! I fucked any man that paid me. You find out, and now, you're giving me honeyed, fucking figs?"
Her face was bright, even in the darkness. Her eyes flashing with a wild mix of a hundred different emotions. I blinked at her, wishing that I knew what to say.
"Helena, I,”
"And I was good at it too," she spat. "Like those fucking pigs said, I was one of the best. I had generals, senators and God damned lords lining up outside my door. And you know why?"
Her fist, her body, all of it was clenched so tight. On the verge of shattering, like all the joy I'd seen break behind her eyes.
"Because I fucked their brains. I'd take everything they could give me and then beg for more. And, when they were done, I'd hold their sweaty bodies and whisper about how I'd never had it so good."
Her face twisted.
"Men always tip better when you stroke their ego as well as their phallus."
I ignored the churning in my gut; the pointless jealousy that reared up in me. I didn't know what to do, what to say. So, I said the first thing that came to me.
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
The question, I saw, was a knife through her armor. She blinked, her anger bleeding out of her. She looked away, back out to sea.
"I don't,” she started. She swallowed. "I don't know. Maybe, if things went further. But I just, I just wanted to see."
My heart was steady in my chest. I looked at her, and despite the letter in my pocket, my mother's voice had never felt so distant. In the tavern, thinking of those moments of peace when the horrors of the future seemed so far away; she'd looked at me. She'd looked at me and had taken in so much of me with those cypress eyes.
Because she'd understood.
"Well," I said. I pulled one of the sticky fruit from the pouch, holding it out to her. "Let's see."
"Leo," she said, her eyes full of tears. "Why?"
Because you're amazing, I thought. Because you're so strong, and bright and filled with so much life. Because you're stomach-churningly beautiful. You understand, and when I'm with you I feel such peace.
Your joy may be broken, but mine lies with you.
You're more than your past Helena, and you're so much more than the world says you can be. And oath or no, whatever the future holds; I will do everything I can to keep you by my side.
I wanted to say that, and so much more. But I didn't know how. I was stratiotai, and so I spoke with the words I knew.
"Because you're my shield mate."
I could see something fracturing beneath her features, like a wave about to burst through a wall of sand. She didn't move, and so I reached out and pulled her hands free. I put the honeyed treat into her palm.
"Leo," her voice cracked. She cradled the little piece of fruit in her lap. "I'm a whore."
"You were a whore," I said. "You became something different."
"I'm dirty. I'm not good, I'm not proper. I'll never be fit for ye,"
Her voice broke again. Her finger's closed tightly on the honeyed fig, her eyes screwing shut.
"Who'd ever stand beside a whore?"
Then, she wept. She curled around herself, shoulders shaking. Tears streamed down her cheeks. I shifted close, gathering her in my arms. She resisted at first, but I didn't let go. I held her head to my chest, until her now sticky fingers reached up to clutch at me.
I didn't speak, didn't murmur sweet words into her ears. I just held her, letting the pain that drained from her soak my chest. Throughout it all, I let my thoughts drift.
It was amazing. I felt so light. I felt hope, real hope for the first time in so many years. This wondrous woman had done so much. She'd been a whore, and I was a soldier. She'd become something different, something new.
Could I?
In my head, I saw a room filled with tables. It was there, by a market that looked out onto the sea. A place, built by four hands instead of just two.
Who'd want stand beside her, she'd asked. What a ridiculous thing to say.
I didn't want to be anywhere else.
"Do you, Helena, swear yourself as my shield mate?" I felt her body stiffen. "Do you vow to stand beside me? And do you promise to stand together against the future; your shield locked onto mine?"
She pushed herself off of me. Our gazes met, and I saw a new world behind her eyes.
"Well?" I asked.
She nodded, jerking her head up and down.
I matched her nod. "Then, I swear myself as your shield mate, vowing to stand beside you. I promise to believe in you; to trust that you'll hold that place at my side."
I reached for her, cupping her hands and closing them around the honeyed fig in her lap.
"And tonight," I said, "and however many nights we have. I vow to hold you in my arms while you sleep."
A heartbeat later, her lips were on mine. She kissed me, and I could taste the salt from her eyes.
"You don't care?" She said, when we finally parted. "Do you really not care?"
I smiled. "I'm a soldier, Helena. I've paid for it, like every other man in the legion camps."
She shook her head. "This is different. Leo, I, I won't just be some tart on your arm. I refuse to be."
"I know," I said. "I want more."
"But I'm not right for that, Leo," she said. "People will always know what I am. I'm dir,”
"God, Helena!" I interrupted. "Enough! Christ on his cross, but I'm sick of hearing that."
"It’s what everyone says," she said. "And what they'll say about you too."
"Nobody talks like that about the Empress. Or Antonina."
She snorted, and my heart warmed to see some of her old fire. "They're the wives of the most powerful men in the Empire. We're nobody. People will talk, Leo."
I inhaled deeply of the salty air, letting out a long breath.
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
"What?" She asked.
"Have you?"
"No. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Because I'm a killer, Helena. I don't even think I was seventeen when I became one."
I turned my gaze downward, holding out my war-calloused palms. I could see them there, the stains.
"I was a recruit, marching with my new unit to join the legions at the border with Persia. I was on watch one night, when some bandits, or just desperate villagers, attacked. I remember them being so thin, armed with clubs and pitchforks and knives. It had been a hard winter, I think. It looked like they could barely hold their weapons."
I don't think I'd ever told anyone this story before. The words flowed out of, like water draining from a long festering swamp.
"The first man I killed had a wild beard. And this ragged tunic. I remember that so clearly; the fucking tunic of all things. It was almost an accident, you know. He thrust with a pitchfork, and when he missed, it was like he stumbled into my sword. Another man screamed when he saw it. He was a lot younger, his son, I think. They looked a like. He charged me, and I killed him too."
"Leo," Helena said. "You were attacked."
"I was, and I kept telling myself that. But then, a few years later we went to war with the Sassanids. We marched towards their cities, and I couldn't really use that anymore."
I clenched my fingers, trying to hide the blood I saw dripping from them.
"I've killed so many, Helena. Fathers, sons, husbands; any who came in front of me. So much blood, and no matter how many times I wash my fucking hands, it’s always there."
I looked back towards her.
"You're dirty? With what I've done, I'll never be clean again."
"You were at war," she said. "You had no choice."
"That’s true," I said. "I did it to survive. And so did you."
She blinked, a few more tears spilling from her eyes. I continued to speak, forcing words past the lump in my throat.
"So, no, I don't care about your past. I don't care what you've done, and what those pampered fools in the palace say. Because when I look at you, Helena, all I think about is the miracle that brought a woman like you to the side of a murderer like me."
"You idiot," she said, a watery smile curling her lips. She let herself fall forward, her forehead coming to rest in the crook of my neck. "You don't know what you've done."
I laughed, taking a moment to wipe the wetness from my eyes. "I know that I spent a fortune on honeyed figs that aren't being eaten."
She shifted against me, finally bringing the fruit up to her lips. She let out a long sigh.
"This one's a bit smooshed,”
I laughed again, deeper than I had in a long time. She raised her head, tear-reddened eyes twinkling in the darkness. I planted a kiss on her lips. The salt was gone, now I could taste nothing but honey.
"Come on," I said, pulling her up. "Those fools should be off-duty now, and it's been a long night."
Neither of us really spoke as we made our way back. We were exhausted, wrung out from a flood of emotions. I felt newly discovered feelings swirling around through me, but I lacked the energy to even acknowledge them.
For now, I was content to walk beside her. Our arms brushed at one point, and I felt her fingers slip between my own.
The city was finally quiet, the not yet rioters having laid down their heads. Though, it was a heavy sort of silence. It was the stillness after the crash, the inhalation before the roar.
And as we came into the streets nearest to the palace, we saw the word 'Nika' painted on more than one door.
The Empress' city burns.
The morning bell sounded, calling all of us palace workers to our posts.
I groaned, cracking open eyes that were gummy from lack of sleep. Helena shifted in my arms pushing herself up. She stretched, and I watched the muscles play beneath the naked flesh of her back.
"Time to get up," she said.
I made another tired sound, feeling her absence as an uncomfortable spot of coolness. I pushed myself onto one elbow, trying to claw the sleep from my eyes. We'd returned late, with everything that had happened the night before. I'd be surprised if we'd managed to get more than three hours of sleep.
"It's too early," I said.
"Are you suggesting we should neglect our duty?" She teased.
Helena was seated on the edge of my bed, peering back at me through a curtain of her hair. The light of the morning sun was on her; making her tanned skin glow and transforming her auburn locks into strands of liquid fire. There was a small smile on her lips, though I could see that she was wary.
She knew better than I that, at times, words spoken in the dark, could not abide the light.
We were due another long conversation, but not right now. I was much too tired for that. So, instead, I flopped my arms around her and pulled her back down.
"Leo!" She squawked, squirming against my chest. "Let me go!"
"No."
I pillowed her head in one of my arms, pulling her closer to me and tucking her in just right. I let out a long sigh of contentment, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of her hair.
"Leo,” I could hear the smile bubbling beneath her serious tone. "We're not going to have a lot of time to gear up."
"Don't care."
She laughed softly. She exhaled, letting herself settle against me, her warm body molding itself to mine. I let out a long breath of pleasure.
"I'd never have gotten into your bed if I'd known how lazy you are," she said.
"It's your fault," I mumbled, her hair tickling my face. "Too warm. I'll be better next time."
"Oh? Are you sure that you'll even be able to afford a next time?"
Her tone was teasing. I felt the tension in her body, however; the guardedness that would not leave so quickly.
"Umm," I said, opening my eyes and kissing the side of her head. "I don't know. Maybe, we can just go for a run, then."
With a herculean effort of will, I forced myself to sit up, slipping my arms from around her. I stretched; my face cracking open in a massive yawn. Through watery eyes, I saw Helena lying on her back. Her hair was a cloud of burnished fire around her head; her bared breasts, caressed by the light spilling through my window.
"A run?"
"And then we can go fishing."
She arched an eyebrow, and I grinned.
"I'm hoping that after all that, you'll be tired enough to just curl up beside me without thinking."
She pushed herself onto her elbows, letting the thin blanket slide down her naked stomach. "You don't think that I can keep up?"
"Oh, you definitely can," I said. My grin got wider. "But I'm a terrible fisherman. And I'm impossible to teach."
She laughed, and I leaned down to kiss her lips. I meant to pull away quickly, but Helena had another idea. She threw her arms around my neck, dragging me down to her pillow. Our kiss deepened, and I felt my exhaustion flee as her smooth leg slid against mine.
"I guess we'll have to go out often," she said when we finally did part. "If you're that slow to learn."
I smiled. "Maybe, every day."
"My lion," she breathed, bringing her palm to my bearded cheek. "How did I ever find you?"
"By getting out of bed," I said, looking at her pointedly. "You know that we don't have time to stay here all day."
Helena stuck her tongue out at me. She pushed me aside, slipping out of bed and stepping fully into the sunlight.
"Careful, shield mate." She stretched; her body wrapped in nothing but the morning. "Because my price just doubled."
I laughed, feeling my body respond to the sight of her light-soaked curves. I let my eyes roam the shape of her; from the knowing curl of her lips to the swell of her large breasts. I went down the ripples of her stomach to the verdant tuft of hair peeking out from where her legs flowed into each other.
My heart quickened, as my mouth dried. I remembered the taste of her silken wetness and the steaming softness of her pubic hair against my face.
"You didn't hear what I said again, did you?"
I blinked, "what?"
She laughed, shaking her head.
I tore my eyes from her body with not a small amount of difficulty. "Did you say something?"
"Completely hopeless," she said, scooping up her discarded tunica. "I need to start charging you for looking. Then, at least, you wouldn't be completely useless to me."
"Better put that on, then," I said. "Before I give you everything I have."
She looped the green cloth around the back of her neck instead; thrusting her naked hips out in a pose of casual seduction.
"Keep looking," she said, her cypress eyes alive with a shifting brightness. "I want to buy a fishing skiff."
I laughed, delighted by the sheer wonder of this woman. I felt so light, my chest buzzing with an airy sort of warmth. She enchanted me, this person who dared to be more than the world said she could.
"Toss me my tunica," I said, shifting to the edge of the bed. "I don't want to be late because of you."
"We don't have time for breakfast," she said, ignoring me. She'd slipped into her garment, bending down towards mine. "I still need to bind my chest. You're going to have to help me with,”
Her words were cut off by the letter that tumbled to the floor. I cursed, the pleasant tingling in my chest and limbs gone like the laughter in a widower's heart. I'd forgotten that the damned thing had been in my pocket.
My mother's letter.
Helena picked it up, turning the plain envelope over in her hands. "This is what Sergius gave you?"
"Yeah," I said, coming to my feet. I pulled my tunica over my head. "Just put it on the desk."
Helena didn't move. "Is it important?"
I plucked the letter from her hands, tossing it onto the desk with barely a glance. "No. It's just a letter from my mother."
I made to move towards my armor stand in the corner, but she stepped in front of me. She placed a hand on my chest, meeting my gaze with eyes that took in so much of me.
I looked away. "It's nothing, really. Now, come on." I made to move past her again, but she didn't let me. "Helena, we have to,”
"I would give anything," she interrupted. "Anything, to get a letter from my father. I don't even know if he's alive or dead."
My eyes flicked up to hers, and then away again just as quickly.
"Helena,”
"It's none of my business," she spoke over me, yet again. "But sometimes we don't get the chances we think we will."
"Yeah, I know." I let out a breath. Of course, I knew, how could I not? I was a soldier. I forced my eyes back to hers. "It's just,”
It's just that I wanted to stay happy.
Those eyes that saw so much softened. She looped her arms around my neck, pressing the warmth of her body against mine, holding me tight. My hands rose to grip her waist. I swallowed, trying and failing to speak past the lump in my throat.
"To stand together against the future," she murmured, her breath swirling over my neck. "Your shield locked onto mine."
She pressed her lips against my skin, pulling back, her arms still around me.
"I swore that oath. And don't think that I'm going to let anything keep me from it." She smiled. "Side by side, shield mate."
I snorted, blinking the wetness from my eyes. "We've been reminding each other a lot about those words."
"We're Rhodian, Leo. We're more stubborn than most."
Stubborn?" I said, finding my smile and pulling her back to me. "Or are we just a little slow?"
Her eyes danced. "Maybe it's a bit of both."
Royal Bed Chamber.
We slipped into the Empress' chambers a few moments before our shift was set to begin.
We'd skipped breakfast, helping each other into our armor with the frantic tugging of straps and calls of hurried encouragement. We'd only just taken position on either side of the entrance to the hall when the Empress emerged from her sleeping quarters.
"Augusta!" I said, stiffening into a salute.
Beside me, Helena rolled her eyes. "Good morning, Empress."
The Empress' lips curled into a smile. She swayed towards us; her body shrouded in purple silk. The fabric of the light dress clung to her, revealing the shadowy contours of her curving shape. Her sun-darkened flesh and walnut hair gleamed; burnished with scented oils.
Her normally bare feet were wrapped in delicate sandals; her steps still no louder than the swish of her near-translucent dress. Gold glinted as she glided through pools of sunlight. It sparkled off of the thin wires that she'd woven into her hair, the chain at her throat, and the bangles she wore wrapped around her arms, waist, and ankles.
Theodora came to us in purple and gold; an eagle of Rome swathed in the colors of Empire.
"A good morning, indeed," she said, her eyes sparkling as she took in the air between Helena and me. "How was your night?"
"It was good, Empress," Helena answered. "Thank you."
"Oh, come now," Theodora said. "You know that I need more than that."
I coughed. Pink bloomed on Helena's cheeks, lighting her smile.
"It was very good, Empress." Her eyes flicked to me for an instant. "The morning too."
"Then, I am pleased," she said.
She took another step nearer, close enough that the scent of her oiled flesh washed over me. "Now, tell me, she said, speaking from low in her throat. "How did he taste?"
Helena met my gaze, and I saw again that vastness beneath the shifting cypress of her eyes. "Like honeyed figs."
The Empress laughed, leaning over to press a kiss onto Helena's cheek.
"And will you be so sweet for me, my Leontius?" She said, stepping towards me.
"Augusta? " I asked, heat rising to my cheeks.
She lay a hand on my forearm, her smile curling at the edges.
"You didn't think that I'd forgotten, did you?" Her voice was low, her hand sliding up my arm. "I too will have my taste, my soldier."
I was frozen stiff; paralyzed by a roiling mix of exhaustion, the Empress' scent, confusion, and not a little bit of panicked concern. My gaze went right to Helena, desperate to see what thoughts might be written on her face.
Helena met my eyes with an open smile. She saw through me, of course, her expression immediately softening. And because I didn't look away from her, I saw the moment that her face flickered with impish delight.
"Empress?" She said, moving to my other side.
She'd left her spear behind, matching Theodora by running a hand along my forearm. It was warm, and I was filled with sudden apprehension.
The Empress arched an eyebrow, waiting.
"Perhaps we might grant him the Patriarch's Indulgence?"
A flicker of very real surprise crossed Theodora's features. She opened her mouth, shut it, and then looked to me and back to Helena.
"Already?" The Empress said.
Helena shrugged, her smile remaining in place. "It wasn't my idea, but yes."
"Interesting," she murmured, her fingers squeezing my forearm.
I coughed once again, awkwardly shifting. I didn't want to interrupt, despite being achingly full of questions.
"The indulgence, my Leontius, is something from our past." The Empress watched me closely, searching the feelings flickering across my face. I don't know what she was looking for, but her expression soon softened into a smile. "You continue to surprise me."
She turned back to Helena, a curl of heat blooming beneath her flesh. "Hmm, yes, that's a good idea. I'll see to it."
Her hand lingered on my arm a moment longer, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Then, the Empress shook herself and stepped away.
"But that will be later. Right now, our city is on the edge of disaster. We have work to do."
She moved towards her divan, while Helena moved past me and back towards her spear.
"What's the indulgence?" I hissed, my blood running quickly through my veins.
Helena grinned; her entire face stained with that same red heat. "You'll see," she mouthed. I glared, but she just winked at me before heading over to her small desk.
"Don't bother," the Empress said. "There are no appointments today. Let in anyone who comes, my Leontius."
I saluted. The Empress lowered her silk-wrapped body onto her divan. Though she lounged within the cushions, she was as regal upon it as any more ornate throne.
"We'll be here until just past lunch," she said. "Then, we'll go meet with my husband. There will be chariot races in the afternoon. Justinian hopes that that will calm things down again, though we still have to work on the speech he will give."
"Empress," Helena said, moving instead to stand behind her. "About that. Last night we saw,”
Theodora held up a hand, cutting her off. "Later, Helena. I've already red about some of what happened. We will discuss this with my husband. For now, however, I expect us to be busy."
And indeed, those words proved to be prophetic. No sooner had Helena settled into her post, did I hear the first knock on her door.
It was a man I didn't know, introducing himself as a lord of a place I didn't recognize either. No sooner had the Empress welcomed him in, did I hear another knock. It was a pair of matronly women this time, coming in to sit around what would grow into a sizeable gathering.
Throughout that long morning, visitors came and went. I saw bishops, merchants, lords, and ambassadors; coming singly or in groups.
The lady Irene even came by, accompanied by a man that I took to be her husband, Lord Arethas. She greeted me with a smile and a faint flush to her cheeks. I was happy to see a new confidence behind her eyes. She stood straighter, walking beside her husband rather than a step behind.
I was also surprised to see that the dress she wore was cut much lower, exposing a generous slice of her chest.
The lord Arethas, for his part, wore a faintly bewildered expression; the poleaxed gaze of one whose life had changed dramatically. It seemed like the lady Irene had taken some of the Empress' advice. And though her husband still appeared conflicted, I saw his eyes soften whenever they turned towards his young wife.
They would be ok in the end, I thought.
Throughout that whole morning, the Empress met with dozens, showing nothing of the fatigue that she must be feeling. And in his own reception chamber, I knew that the Emperor would be doing the same.
For while it was by birth or tradition or proclamation that the Imperial family ruled; it was the people that were the true source of their power. People were what moved the Empire; giving their time, wealth, and bodies to it.
An Emperor only ruled so long as his people tolerated him, and the annals of Rome's history were soaked with the blood of those men who'd forgotten.
Theodora was no such despot.
She spoke with each, listening to their fears and grievances. She offered her own words in return; promising to look out for them and their families. She assured them that while things may have changed, the future was undeniably bright. She thanked each for their loyalty, drawing out pledges of continued support; swearing that her husband would never ask of them more than they could pay.
She reminded each, that the dream of Empire died only when there were none left who believed.
To be continued in part 6, Based on the works of Robyn Bee, for Literotica.