Justinian

SIX

Macedonia was the first to recover. Taking the letter from the other’s unresisting hand, she perused its contents then looked up with a smile, in which there lurked a hint of mischief.

‘Well, Theodora, who’d have thought we’d meet up again like this? I’ll be delighted to help you — if I can. Archbishop Timothy speaks highly of you; I’m sure we can find something that will suit. But before discussing your situation, we must catch up with each other’s news over cena;* I’m all agog.’

Extended on a couch in the triclinium or dining-room beside her hostess, Theodora — to cover the embarrassment that had suddenly engulfed her — prattled on inconsequentially about life in Alexandria, scarcely tasting the delicious dishes from the table beside her. At last, aware that a mounting flush was colouring her neck and cheeks, she floundered to a stop.

‘It’s all right, my dear,’ murmured Macedonia, in tones of understanding mingled with amusement. ‘We don’t need to be shy with each other.’ Moving from her couch, she stretched out beside Theodora, and putting her arms around her, kissed her gently on the mouth.

Immediately, Theodora felt herself responding, and returned the kiss with ardour. Unbelievingly, she became aware of the other beginning to undress her; arousal coursing through her veins, she helped Macedonia complete the process then returned the service, till soon both women were lying naked, side by side.

‘Are you ready for this?’ asked Macedonia softly, beginning to stroke the other’s breasts.

For a brief moment, Theodora felt herself stiffen. Never before had she been touched by a woman; thus far, her only experience of sex had consisted of fleeting intercourse with male clients, coldly commercial acts, undertaken not from choice but simply to keep the wolf from the door.

Barring a mild disgust both for herself and for the man who had purchased the temporary use of her body, she had felt nothing on these occasions. But this was different. As delicious sensations from the other’s cunning fingertips began to spread throughout her bosom, all resistance melted and she whispered in a voice husky with excitement, ‘Yes, I’m ready.’

Theodora gasped as Macedonia caressed her nipples, causing them to swell erect, her pleasure mounting in intensity as lips and tongue replaced the work of fingers. She felt Macedonia’s hand slide down her body, explore those other lips now slippery with expectation, fondle the swelling bud until she cried aloud in ecstasy, as the sensations climbed to a pinnacle of exquisite delight. Then suddenly she was convulsing in a violent orgasm, which gradually subsided to a glow of blissful satisfaction, leaving her shaken but at peace.

‘I didn’t know anything could be so beautiful,’ she whispered to Macedonia, gazing adoringly at her lover’s face. ‘Now, I must try to do the same for you. Be warned though — I don’t know if I’ll be any good. All this is new to me, you see.’

‘Provided a willing pupil has a good teacher, what’s there to worry about?’ murmured Macedonia. Smiling, she lay back languorously, and closed her eyes in sensuous anticipation.

To the short list of the only true friends she had ever known — Irene, Timothy, and Severus — Theodora was now able to add another name, Macedonia, one associated with a new dimension in her life — passion. The next few weeks passed in a delectable blur — long, intimate talks sometimes lasting far into the night; delicious meals complemented by the finest of wines; excursions around the splendours of Antioch, its colonnaded streets, magnificent circus, theatres, baths, and great churches;* bouts of tender lovemaking.

In the course of sharing confidences about their past lives, Macedonia revealed to Theodora that she had been briefly married to a successful merchant, before his untimely death from ague. ‘Mathias was a sweet, kind man,’ she recounted, ‘who fell in love with me after seeing me perform with my troupe of dancers. It was hard to refuse his proposal of marriage; he offered me security, genuine affection, a life of luxury beyond the wildest dreams of a mere dancing-girl from a poor background. And I was truly fond of him. Not, of course, in the way I feel about yourself, my love, but as a dear friend, whose death left me with a devastating sense of loss and sadness. He willed me his trading empire which, though I say it myself, I manage pretty well; if there’s one thing my sort of upbringing has taught me, it’s how many nummi make a solidus.’

‘You were lucky; my own seeming passport to a better life came about in circumstances not dissimilar to yours,’ remarked Theodora, adding with a rueful laugh, ‘but instead of a Mathias, I ended up with an absolute bastard.’ And she related the story of her sojourn with Hecebolus.

But nothing lasts forever; as the days grew shorter, warning of the autumn gales to come which would make voyages by sea impossible, Theodora knew that the time had come when the idyll had to end.

‘You don’t have to go,’ entreated Macedonia. ‘We could be partners in business, as in love.’

‘Darling, I have my path to find,’ Theodora responded gently. ‘We’ll meet again, I promise. But first, I have to make a new life for myself.’

And so, with many tears and kisses, they parted, Theodora embarking from Seleucia on a vessel bound for the Golden Horn. Packed with her belongings was a business plan for a wool-spinning enterprise, drawn up by Macedonia; also a sheaf of letters of introduction.* Among the latter was one addressed to a certain ‘Petrus Sabbatius, Comes, Vir Illuster, Consul et Patricius’ (Count, the Illustrious, Consul and Patrician).

* Dinner.

* All to be laid low seven years later, in the catastrophic earthquake of 29 November 528.

* See Notes.