Nobilissima (39 page)

“No, I went directly to Ursus.”

“Even knowing who it was, you didn’t come to me first?”

He stiffened. “I did my duty,” he repeated.

“You have put Ursus in the difficult position of having to ask me to let go of a member of my personal staff. Not just a member of staff, but a friend, who has been with me since I was a baby.”

“The Bishop also has to do his duty,” said Alanus.

“You may leave now,” I said.

He didn’t move, and his eyes were fixed on my face. “Are you angry with me, Nobilissima?”

“This goes far beyond anger. Now please leave.”

I turned and walked away from him, aware that he still hadn’t moved. Sitting down next to Aurelia, I motioned to a guard to escort him from the room. The soldier took the priest by the arm and marched him to the door.

Aurelia’s face was leached of all color. “My God, what are you going to do?”

“I’m not letting Sylvia go.”

“But how can you argue with the Bishop? He’ll almost certainly go to Honorius if you do. And under the circumstances, Constantius may take a stand too. He has to, in his new position.”

“There’s no way I’ll let Sylvia go. She’s been like a sister to me. Oh, I’m so angry with her for ignoring all my warnings, but I have to find a way to help her.” I stood and walked around the room, staring at the tiles on the floor.

“Bring Sylvia here,” I ordered the guard, who saluted and shouted an order to another guard further along the hallway.

It was a while before Sylvia arrived, out of breath and her cheeks pink from exertion. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought you were still in the audience chamber. I was down in the kitchens.”

“Sit down.”

Sylvia sat heavily on the couch next to Aurelia. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember our conversation about religion? And the dangers of pursuing your pagan beliefs except in the utmost secrecy? “

Sylvia nodded, her eyes already filled with tears.

“You were seen leaving the pagan temple. Sylvia, how could you do this to me? This has gone all the way to the Bishop and he is expecting me to turn you out of the palace.”

Sylvia started to sob, and Aurelia patted her hand.

“I’ve done all I can to protect you,” I said, pacing the floor in front of her. “I allowed you to keep your household god statue in your chest. But I never imagined that you would be stupid enough to attend a service at a temple again. Really, Sylvia, you’ve betrayed my trust and put me in an impossible position.”

I tapped one foot on the floor. I was truly furious with Sylvia for her behavior but I was also scared. I didn’t know how to protect her. She had broken the law. Just days ago, I had talked about execution as the punishment for heretic priests. Here, my own beloved Sylvia was openly flouting the law of the land and the Church.

“It’s my fault,” I continued. “I should have taken away your statue and forbidden you to think of your pagan gods ever again.”

“I’m so sorry, Placidia, really I am. I only went that one last time to tell the others I wasn’t coming back any more. I can change. I promise.”

“It’s too late,” I snapped.

I sat down next to the others on the couch, the silence broken only by Sylvia’s sniffing.

I thought for a long time, and then stood up. “I have an idea. It might work, but whatever happens, Sylvia, this is the last chance. You will not leave the palace without asking my permission first and you will go to services at the chapel with the other staff every morning without fail. Do you understand?”

Sylvia nodded.

“Good, now you two must leave me in peace to write to the Bishop. And pray to God that we succeed because I don’t know how I’ll manage without Sylvia here during my pregnancy.”

“You’re expecting?” Sylvia exclaimed. “Oh my, that is such good news.” She rushed to give me a hug, then pulled back. “I’m so sorry for the problems I’ve caused you. I’ll do anything in the world to undo them and to stay with you.”

“I know. But there’s yet more news. Constantius has been made Consul and there will be a banquet tonight in his honor. You can spend the afternoon deciding what I should wear this evening.”

This time, Sylvia was speechless and allowed Aurelia to take her by the arm and lead her from the room. I called for ink and parchment and sat at my desk to begin my proposal to Ursus.

Three days later, the Bishop arrived at the palace. I met him alone in my office, first offering him refreshments to revive him on yet another cold and damp day.

“I received your letter,” he said, sipping his wine and contemplating a plate of fragrant rosemary and olive bread, still steaming from the oven. I said nothing. I wanted to see where he was leaning first.

“Your proposal could be considered a bribe, of sorts.”

“I prefer to think of it as a negotiation,” I replied. “And the outcome would be good for both of us, and for Ravenna too.”

He nodded, picking up a cube of bread and popping it into his mouth.“The Pope might not be happy, however,” he said, with his mouth full.

I knew that the Pope could be an obstacle. I had a great deal of influence with him but on this matter, our friendly relationship may not be of help.

“A lot depends on how far Alanus will go to plead his case,” I said. “And that is where you come in, Ursus. You can keep him in Ravenna, or you can send him to somewhere like Mediolanum. Whatever happens, I want him out of the palace immediately. And we don’t want him back in Rome where he can whine to the Pope and make trouble.”

Ursus nodded. “True. My inclination is to keep him here. He’s an ambitious young man and will not take well to being shipped off to a backwater like Mediolanum. If I keep him close and ensure that he’s given stewardship of one of the churches, I think we can keep him happy enough.”

He paused to eat some more of the bread.

“So, to your proposal. You know that I must act on all reports of heresy within the diocese of Ravenna, and that includes the palace. I can’t ignore this complaint just because the woman involved is one of your household staff.”

“She’s not just one of the staff, Ursus. I can’t let her go and I won’t even consider it.”

“Then we have a problem.”

“Let’s put the problem on one side for a moment and talk about my proposal to build a church in the city. I’ve been thinking about it and have some ideas on the design. I even know what I would like to call it. I will fund all of it, from clearing the site to the final decoration. It can be a joint project, with your name on it, if you like.”

Ursus smiled. “You know it’s a goal of mine to build more churches in the city. I’d like to see your ideas. Your choice of location is excellent. You know the Longidiana family? The shipping people? They’ve offered to fund a new church but they want it out in Classis near the port because that’s where their residence is. I’ll let them do it but I’m far more interested in building within the city limits.”

I went to my desk and gathered up some rough sketches, and laid them out for him to see. “I want to work with Gaius Lucullus,” I said. “He’s the most skilled architect in the city.”

Together we went over my ideas and finally Ursus leaned back in his chair. “You know my weak spot,” he said with a look of amusement on his face. “It appears that your proposal has met with my approval. You build the church. I will smooth things over with the Pope regarding your maid, and Alanus will be relocated.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as I bid the Bishop goodbye. For now, Sylvia was safe and Alanus would be out of the way. Almost as importantly, I could embark on my new endeavor, to build the church of Santa Croce. The work would be a welcome distraction from the discomforts of my pregnancy.

As I’d hoped, the months passed quickly. Between my work on the church design, and my responsibilities at court, I remained busy until a few days before my baby was due.

On the day of the birth, I lay in comfort in a large bed, with several women assisting me. It was very different from the first time, when little Theodosius had come into the world in a drafty tent in the midst of a snowstorm. The memory of my son burned like a physical pain in my chest and I had to take deep breaths to recover.

When a nurse placed my screaming daughter in my arms, I looked at the little red face with a mixture of love and terror. To lose another child would be unbearable. Constantius, however, had no such fears. Once he was allowed into the room, he took the baby from me and nestled her against his chest, beaming with pride and happiness. He kissed me tenderly on the cheek and then patted me on the shoulder and told me how well I had done. I felt like one of his soldiers being congratulated on unseating a charging cavalryman. Even so, I smiled to see his joy in his baby daughter.

We called her Honoria, hoping that would please the Emperor, and I engaged an army of women to take care of her. I commanded them to predict and fulfill my daughter’s every need, praying that a surfeit of attention would protect her from accident or illness.

Honoria, as she grew, was headstrong and temperamental. She was a beautiful child, with dark curls and large gray-green eyes. Her skin was so white it almost looked transparent. She loved to play at dressing up and would spend hours in my room, pulling pallas and robes from the chests to wrap herself up and parade around, demanding attention and applause.

My second child, one year later, was a boy. There were celebrations in the palace and the townspeople hung banners from every balcony and tower in Ravenna. He was named Valentinian after my grandfather and the Pope himself came to perform his baptism.

As he grew into a toddler, he was often sullen and petulant, though sometimes charming. He would flash a smile that disarmed an angry nurse or bow graciously to a visiting dignitary, winning the smiles and compliments that he loved. He was at his best when he spent time with his uncle Honorius. He followed him everywhere, calling him Uncle Horius and maintaining a steady stream of sweet baby chatter. Uncle Horius taught him how to feed the chickens and the waterfowl that nested on the beautiful lakes in the grounds of the palace. He showed him how to fish, although that was simple enough in the well-stocked fishponds, and how to play dice and win coins at games. The two of them were inseparable.

Valentinian’s other favorite playmate was Sylvia’s little girl, Claudia, who made a surprise appearance into the world just eight months after Sylvia married one of the chamberlains. She was a sweet-tempered and fair-haired cherub of a child who treated Valentinian like a younger brother. She was protective and careful, fussing over him if he scratched a knee or had a splinter. Valentinian preferred her company to that of his sister, who resented him from the day he was born. When they had to be in the same room, they fought. Honoria called him names and he kicked or pinched her in return.

I knew that my children were difficult. I doted on Valentinian in particular and struggled to find ways to communicate with Honoria. As time went on, Constantius seemed disappointed in them both and avoided their company. He dedicated his days to working and preferred to spend the evenings with his military friends. He and I still worked well together and had settled into a comfortable, though unexciting, routine. He showed polite interest in my church-building activities, but never volunteered to go with me to visit the construction site, which I loved to do. Our conversations centered on Honorius, who was becoming increasingly difficult to deal with. He was distracted and lackadaisical, never concentrating for long on one subject. Often, I thought I’d scream in frustration as we waited for him while he gossiped with the courtiers or walked his chickens in the gardens. He was appallingly rude to visiting dignitaries and sometimes changed a law we’d passed only a few days previously.

Late one evening when I received a summons to Honorius’s apartments. I was worried. Honorius never conducted business in the evenings and the two of us spent little time together unless it was at an official dinner. While I waited for a servant to bring my sandals, Constantius arrived. He had been dining with Marcus and some of his generals.

“Honorius says he wants to see us both immediately,” he said. “I can’t imagine what he wants that can be urgent enough to interrupt dinner.”

We walked together to Honorius’s apartments and I took Constantius by the hand as we entered, grateful for the comforting squeeze he gave me as the guards saluted and closed the doors behind us.

Honorius was alone in the room and had dismissed all of his servants. My stomach clenched with anxiety; my brother hated to be alone. He sprawled on a couch, and a dozen hens pecked at food he had put down on the floor. He had a goblet of wine in one hand and I wondered if he was drunk.

“Good evening sister and Constantius, “ he said as soon as we were seated. “I’m sorry to spoil your dinner but I must tell you something important.”

He paused while a hen flew up on to his leg and perched there. “Isn’t she lovely?” he asked but didn’t wait for a reply.

“As you know,” he continued, “I have huge responsibilities as Emperor. The Empire is in constant need of attention and we need new laws and new policies every day. While I devote all the time I possibly can to my duties, I find that they are too onerous for one man to bear.”