Valeria’s Cross (13 page)

I
t was a perfect June day, enveloped by blue skies and wispy clouds. A silver tray of strawberries was set before Valeria as sweet fragrances from the season’s many flowers wafted through the palace windows. Today was her wedding day, but despite the lovely setting, Valeria felt numb. She could scarcely see the beautiful sights or smell the lovely aromas. Even the sweetest berries were tasteless, and Valeria could not concentrate on Eugenia, as she reviewed the day’s schedule with her. Despite her brave talk about having accepted her fate, it seemed her life would end today as she stepped into the deep abyss of marriage to a man she despised, a man who seemed determined to torture her. How could all the prayer and submission in the world cause her to love such a man?

As she dressed for the ceremony, with dozens of servants fussing with her face and fixing her hair, she imagined how different this day could have been had she married Mauritius.

Suddenly, she had an inspiration. Why, this was exactly how she would cope with her impending marriage! She would close her eyes and imagine that Galerius was Mauritius. She
could escape from her body in her mind, and go to Mauritius in her dreams. Galerius’ touch would belong to Mauritius!

By the time Prisca was escorted into Valeria’s chambers to help her daughter dress for the wedding, Valeria was not so glum. In fact, her mood bordered on cheerful.

As it was the Roman custom for a mother to help to dress her daughter for her wedding, it was now Prisca’s job to add the finishing touches. “The most important part of your wedding dress is this belt,” Prisca explained, fastening an orange sash around Valeria’s petite waistline. “I am tying this belt into the knot of Hercules, the guardian of the wedded life.”

Valeria was horrified. “Mother, this is a pagan custom, and we are Christians. Please, do not speak these words.” She grabbed the belt before her mother could complete the knot and flung it from her. Whispers came from the servants who were huddled across the room.

Prisca calmly ordered a servant to retrieve the belt. “I am obedient to my husband,” she explained. “He instructed me to have you wear this belt, and so you shall.”

“But where is your obedience to God, Mother? Did you not teach me that obedience is more important than sacrifice?”

As her mother once again placed the belt around Valeria’s waist, she said, “You must not untie this knot. Only your husband can do so.”

Valeria did not want to embarrass Prisca in front of the servants a second time, so she stood silently and allowed her mother to complete her task, though tears pricked Valeria’s eyes.

“She cries because she is happy,” Prisca assured the servants before ordering them from the room, motioning Eugenia to stay.

Prisca kissed her daughter and recited the explanation of the ritual of marriage to her. “Marriage transfers a woman from
her father’s authority to her husband’s. This control extends even to life and death. Everything that is yours becomes the property of your husband once you speak your vows. Your body is no longer your own. It is your husband’s to do with as he pleases, and you must submit your body to him. Your husband will offer you a goblet of wine when you go to the marriage bed. If you will drink wine or mead, it will calm your fears and relax you, and you will feel less pain.”

“Pain? No one has warned me that my body would ache as my heart does.” Prisca and Eugenia did not respond, and Valeria tried to calm her terrified, racing heart.

The final task was placing Valeria’s veil upon her head and securing it with jeweled hairpins and a diamond-studded crown of gold. Valeria remained still while her mother stood on a stepstool and, with Eugenia’s assistance, adjusted her daughter’s lace veil. Prisca then tucked a sprig of evergreen behind Valeria’s ear. “A symbol of a long marriage,” she explained.

With Valeria’s preparations finished at last, Eugenia opened the door and invited the servants to come back into the room to see the bride.

Valeria stood on the platform before an ornate mirror, resplendent in the white silk and lace gown embroidered with tiny threads of gold. Her arms covered in lace, she slid them into a sleeveless white robe, also embroidered in gold, which trailed for more than a hundred feet. Outlined in gold and silver galloons and bordered with ermine, the robe was embroidered with lilies of the valley and studded with diamonds and pearls.

“You look like an emperor’s bride,” Eugenia told her, planting kisses on both her cheeks as the servants oohed
and aahed. But Valeria could not share their joy, for she had imagined this day so many times in her dreams and this time, there would be no happy ending.

“A prayer, everyone, before we leave,” Prisca insisted. “May God bless this union, and may it bring great peace and honor to the Roman Empire.”

Prisca and Eugenia, along with Valeria’s many bridesmaids and ladies of the court and their servants, then made their way down the marble stairs toward their guests.

As Valeria started down the aisle toward Galerius, she felt no emotion. Escorted by her parents and carrying a bouquet of orange blossoms and herbs into the great hall of the palace that was bedecked with thousands of blooms, she walked on a fine carpet scattered with rose petals. When she came face-to-face with the man who was about to become her husband, she forced a smile. Roman law required that consent to the marriage be shown publicly, so Valeria accepted Galerius’ outstretched hand and stood by his side before the pagan priest. She then chanted her vows by rote, while praying that her new husband’s intentions were not as sinister as she imagined.

After the words of consent, the bride and groom sat on stools, facing the altar. The priest handed the groom a loaf of barley bread, which Galerius broke and ate. He broke a second loaf over the head of his bride.

“This act signifies the groom’s breaking of the virginal condition of the bride,” the priest announced, “and his subsequent power and control over her.”

The priest then offered up the wedding cake to Jupiter. Once the high priest had made the offering to the Roman god, he served the sweet cake to the bride and groom, and they fed it to one another. When it was eaten, the priest presented Galerius and Valeria to the wedding guests as man and wife. A great cheer arose in the crowd, as the couple exchanged a simple kiss, and then everyone applauded.

Though repulsed by the pagan ceremony, Valeria forced a smile. When Galerius kissed her a second time, she closed her
eyes and pretended she was kissing Mauritius. This time, the kiss made her tingle, and she smiled to herself, knowing she could endure anything with this secret game of hers. Perhaps she would survive her wedding night after all.

As her mother had warned, the wedding feast continued for hours. Wine flowed like a river, and food was served on hundreds of silver and gold trays until the wedding guests ate themselves into a frenzy of indigestion. Entertainment in the form of song, dance, and dramatics was presented at every station. Valeria danced with her father and Galerius until she was exhausted.

The party continued into the wee hours of the morning. When Galerius appeared to notice that his bride was fading and commented accordingly, he quickly bid everyone goodnight on their behalf, already taking charge of his wife.

Normally, after the bridal dinner party, the bride was escorted to her husband’s home. This ceremony was essential to the completion of the marriage, so it could not be omitted. However, since Galerius’ home was far away in Thessalonica, the people joined in a procession to a bedchamber in the palace that had been prepared for the wedding night. Prisca held her daughter in a tight embrace, and the groom took his bride with a pretended show of force from her mother’s arms. The entire procession then paraded to the bedchamber, where the guests showered the newlyweds with almonds for good luck.

Before entering the bridal chamber, Valeria recited the consent chant one more time. Then, amidst the cheers of the wedding guests, Galerius lifted his bride into his arms and carried her over the threshold. The doors were then closed to the general public, while the family and special guests were invited to come inside to watch as the bride lit a fire with a special torch that had been carried in front of the procession. The torch was then blown out and tossed among the guests,
who scrambled for it, believing it was a token of health and happiness.

At last the guests bid the couple goodnight, though her parents and Eugenia remained behind. Eugenia helped Valeria slip out of her robe, and then removed her crown and veil. Standing in her wedding gown, Valeria felt naked, until Eugenia and Prisca led her into a chamber and dressed her in her evening clothes for sleeping. The soft silks felt comforting against her bare skin. They placed a robe around her shoulders, and she slid her feet into soft-soled sandals. With Prisca and Eugenia on either side, Valeria returned to the bedroom.

Eugenia whispered a quick prayer into Valeria’s ear and kissed her before she took her leave. In a tearful farewell, Valeria then kissed her parents goodnight. When the emperor and empress had gone, Galerius closed and locked the heavy door behind them. The newlyweds were alone, and Valeria was his prisoner.

Galerius turned from the door and eyed his bride with such hunger that she gasped. Without a word, he untied the ribbon on her robe and removed it. Valeria covered the bodice of her diophanous bedclothes with her hands. How she wanted to cry for help, but the servants stationed outside the door would hear and spread the gossip throughout the palace, maybe even the city, so she bit her tongue in an effort to remain silent.

“And now you are mine … at last,” Galerius gloated. When he lifted her into his arms and carried her to their marriage bed, she steeled herself, determined to be strong as he used one hand to pull back the heavy draperies surrounding the bed. Valeria noted that the maids had turned down the bed and scattered it with rose petals in preparation for the newlyweds’ arrival. Galerius wasted no time. He lifted the covers and nearly shoved her under them.

Next, he propped her head up with plush embroidered pillows, and then lifted the crystal carafe and poured the fine wine into two heavy gold chalices that sat on the bedside table. He offered one to her, which she took and sipped. When she winced and made a face, he laughed. The wine was bitter, but she remembered how her mother had explained it would help her endure the unpleasantness and pain of the evening, so she gulped it down. When she finished, Galerius placed their cups on the table by his side of the bed. Then he stood, staring down at her while she tried not to recoil in fear.

After an uncomfortable silence, Valeria finally asked, “Is something wrong? My mother told me that you would remove my bedclothes, but you do not touch me, sire. Are you waiting for me to undress?”

He laughed. “I am a gentleman, and I never touch a lady without her consent.”

“Then I suppose you will never touch me,” she answered flippantly, wishing immediately that she could take back her foolish words. When she saw the look of anger on his face, she winced and closed her eyes, wondering if he would strike her.

He did not. Instead he replied, “Very well. Then we shall go to sleep.”

His response was so unexpected that Valeria simply nodded, wide-eyed. She watched as he went to his side of the bed and lay down beside her.

Once he was settled under the covers, Valeria removed the extra pillows from under her head and tossed them on the floor, and then slid down under the covers, keeping a safe distance between them. She waited in the silence of the room, but when nothing happened, she finally spoke. “You may touch me, sire.”

“I shall not,” he declared, his back to her now as he faced the wall. “I am a prideful man, and I will not touch you until the day you beg for me to do so.”

Valeria was shocked at this unexpected turn of events. Neither her mother nor Eugenia had prepared her for such a scenario.
Am I truly to beg him? No! Never will I stoop so low.

Her mind flooded with a myriad of conflicting thoughts. What would everyone think of her if the marriage were not consummated? The thought horrified her, but she had no choice but to wait.

The wine now flowed through her bloodstream, and she felt a bit tipsy. After a few minutes, she dared to try again. She touched his arm with her fingertips. Was it the wine or did she want him? The strong desire she felt caused her to ache for his touch … a strange erotic sensation indeed! When he did not respond to her advances, she asked, “Sire, do you want to touch me?”

“One day you will burn with passion for me,” he said. “On that day you will beg for me, and our marriage will be complete. I will not touch you until then.”

Never! I shall not beg him
.

She turned away, reminding herself how much she despised him. Throughout the night she dozed fitfully, awakening with Galerius at her side, but never once did he approach her.
Perhaps I should be thankful,
Valeria tried to convince herself. But as much as she hated to admit it, a part of her longed for her husband’s touch—and that was the biggest surprise of all on her wedding night, the beginning of the honeymoon she had so feared and dreaded.

V
aleria slept until noon, though she had no idea what time it was when first she awoke. Slowly opening her eyes, she tried to focus, but the surroundings were unfamiliar. Then she remembered. Out of the corner of her eye, she peeked at the other side of the bed. Galerius was gone.

The heavy damask draperies were still closed around the bed and the room, and Valeria wondered how long her new husband had been absent from her side. Rising from her bed, she walked to the window and flung the draperies aside. The sun shone gloriously, almost directly overhead, and she had a clear view of the courtyard.

The sudden rap at her door startled her.

“Who is it?”

“Eugenia.”

With some hesitation, Valeria unlatched the door. After her disastrous and more than slightly perplexing wedding night, she dreaded facing her friend.

“Good afternoon,” Eugenia greeted her as she entered, but her smile faded quickly. “Your hair is still up?”

Valeria felt the heat of shame crawl up her neck to her cheeks, as her hand flew to touch her hair. “With the telltale signs, I suppose there is no need for you to pry now. As you can see, I had no wedding night.”

“If I did not know you better, I would guess you are disappointed.”

“Not disappointed,” Valeria countered, “but maybe a bit rejected.”

Eugenia’s eyes grew wide. “Then it was not you who refused?”

Humiliated, Valeria shook her head.

“It must have been an enormous relief for you.”

“True. But now I am concerned that my lack of a wedding night will disturb and concern my parents, especially Father. If anyone finds out, it would bring such shame on my family!”

“They will not hear it from me,” Eugenia assured her, and then chuckled. “But I do recall that your father was expecting you to make a grandson for him on the night of your wedding.”

“I am glad you are amused. I certainly am not. If I am forced to be this man’s wife, then I may as well be married in the full sense of the word so I can at least produce a child.”

Eugenia’s smile faded as she began to pull the pins from Valeria’s hair. “It is not unusual for a bride and groom to be so weary after the wedding festivities that they agree to wait until the following evening to consummate their marriage,” she explained.

“Then why did you and Mother not tell me of this possibility?”

Eugenia began to brush her charge’s long hair. “We preferred not to offer you any false hope.”

“Ouch!” Valeria cried, as her head jerked to one side.

“Sorry. I missed a hairpin.” Eugenia did not miss a beat. “Your wedding was beautiful. At breakfast I heard people saying that you were the most beautiful bride in all the Roman Empire. The ladies were also gossiping about General Galerius and how devastatingly handsome he is.”

Valeria harrumphed. “That must have pleased him. Have you seen him this morning?”

“He is with your father, who has called an impromptu meeting of the dignitaries who were here for the wedding.”

“Good. Then I can have my lunch alone on the terrace without being disturbed. Would you care to join me?”

Eugenia’s hand stopped for a moment. “But everyone is waiting for you to come downstairs for lunch.”

Valeria felt the warm blush of embarrassment returning. “How can I face them after … what I have just told you?”

“Silly girl, no one will know.”

“But Galerius will know. And he will make me feel so small.”

“No one can make you feel small. You are in control of your own feelings.” Switching gears, the faithful Eugenia laid down the brush and looked Valeria in the eyes. “Now, what would you like to wear?”

Valeria shrugged. What did it matter? Oh, how she dreaded facing Galerius! Would he mock her? At the thought, a feeling of indignation and resentment began to replace her dread. How dare Galerius treat her with such contempt! She knew just what to do to make him sorry he had rejected her.

Determined to appear more beautiful and tempting than ever, she declared, “Please bring me the green toga and the emeralds my parents gave me as a wedding gift.”

Eugenia smiled and went to do her mistress’s bidding.

Once Valeria had bathed in fragrant oils and dressed, even her skin glistened.

“You look magnificent,” Eugenia announced.

When she and Eugenia went downstairs for the luncheon, all in attendance ceased their conversation and gazed at the lovely bride. In moments the great hall was abuzz, and Valeria blushed again—this time with pleasure, as she knew her beauty was the subject of their comments. She also imagined that they were speculating about her wedding night. If they only knew!

Then she spotted Galerius. Her heart leapt when she realized he was smiling at her, and she immediately scolded herself for her reaction, reminding herself that she loathed the man. When he came to greet her, she wondered if he was mocking her.

“I trust you slept well,” he said as he bussed her check with an obligatory kiss.

“Yes, thank you,” she answered, careful to maintain a cool and aloof tone. “And you?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Before she could think better of it, she blurted, “I will see you in our bedchambers tonight?”

Galerius raised an eyebrow. “That depends.”

Horrified by her brash question and incensed by his taunting response, Valeria clamped her lips shut, stiffening as he escorted her to Diocletian’s table and then helped her bow down before her father.

The emperor beamed, obviously in good spirits. “Ah, I see that my little rose is in full bloom this morning.” He affectionately patted her stomach. “And how is my little grandson?”

Valeria’s blush returned, and she cast a questioning glance in her husband’s direction. As Galerius escorted her to the ladies’ table, he whispered, “Remember, my dear wife, it is you who finds me repulsive, so do not mock me with those accusatory eyes.” He squeezed her forearm, but Valeria refused to
react. Galerius settled her on the divan next to her mother and then kissed the top of her head before rejoining the men.

“How are you?” Prisca whispered, taking her daughter’s hand.

“Fine.”

Her mother’s eyes focused on her. From the tone of her next question, it was obvious she did not believe Valeria. “And how was last night?”

Turning her gaze from her mother’s face, she answered, “We slept; that is all.”

Prisca tightened her grip of Valeria’s hand. “That is not so unusual, you know.”

“Eugenia assured me of that, but it would have helped if you had warned me of this possibility.”

“First, may I say how blessed you are to have such a sensitive husband who would allow you to sleep in your exhausted state after the wedding? Many men are such animals that they would have shown little concern for your feelings. This tells me a lot about your husband’s character. Tonight will be different, and you shall become a woman at last.”

Valeria nodded again and forced a smile, though she doubted her mother’s words. But there was no time to dwell on the possibilities, as a select group of the dignitaries and their wives, including the most powerful rulers and senators, were being escorted into another, more intimate hall. Prisca and Valeria were included in that select group, and so they followed their husbands, while the majority of the guests remained in the grand hall to continue the festive celebration.

Once settled into the smaller setting, with men at one table and women at another, Prisca and Valeria turned their attention to the men’s conversation, only to find that Galerius was speaking. How arrogant he appeared! Valeria refused to admit that she was intrigued with his speech and inspired by
his passion. It was obvious to her that he was brilliant where politics were concerned.

As Galerius continued, Valeria watched, forgetting for just a few moments that he was the same man she had married against her wishes and who had then humiliated her by rejecting her in their marriage bed. Instead, mesmerized by his speech and manner, she quickly found his command of power intoxicating. Galerius was not only intelligent, but he possessed something her father did not have … an uncanny ability to inspire everyone around him. Even Valeria had to admit that the two men were a perfect combination.

Unfortunately I am the one who does not fit into this picture
, Valeria realized, suddenly feeling very despondent.
There simply is no place for me here in this world. I belong in heaven with Mauritius. Why has God left me here to endure such sorrow?

“The Roman Empire is far too vast for one ruler to control,” Galerius declared, pulling Valeria back to what had become her reality, “but no emperor prior to Diocletian has had the selfless ambition or the genius of our beloved leader.” Rousing cheers and applause greeted his proclamation, interrupting his speech for a brief moment.

Diocletian rose to his feet, immediately interrupting the crowd’s praise. “The reason I have called this meeting at our luncheon today,” he said, his voice booming across the great hall, “is to make yet another announcement.”

Valeria raised her eyebrows, surprised, even as she saw Galerius flinch. He was obviously caught as off guard as she by her father’s words. Her husband quickly took his seat and deferred to the emperor after a salute to Diocletian.

Valeria’s father continued. “I have decided to form a tetrarchy, the rule of four.”

“Four rulers?” One of the senators spoke with a note of surprise in his voice. “Will this not reduce your power?”

“Ah, but for a man who is also a god, it is not a problem,” Diocletian explained. “I am Jupiter, all-powerful. I am the Alpha and the Omega, no matter how many rulers exist in our kingdom.”

Valeria recoiled at the arrogance of her father’s pronouncement, noticing that her mother did the same, though she hid it well.

“One day he will understand,” Valeria whispered. “You must keep praying, Mother, as will I.”

“And for Galerius as well,” her mother added.

“As of today there will be four rulers over the empire,” Diocletian announced. “Two Augusti will continue to rule as emperors—one in the east, the other in the west, as we have done. Each Augustus will adopt as his son a junior emperor, a Caesar, who will help rule his half of the empire with him and eventually become the emperor’s successor.”

Valeria watched the muscles in Galerius’ face relax. He knew now what was coming, and he glanced her way and caught her eye, smiling triumphantly as if to say, “This is not just my future, but ours.” Valeria returned his smile, surprised as she sensed her anger toward Galerius dissipating, though she was not yet ready to admit it.

“And who might these men be?” another general called out.

“Come, Maximian,” Diocletian ordered.

Maximian, Diocletian’s co-emperor, bowed prostrate before the senior emperor, and then rose and the men embraced. With his arm around Maximian, Diocletian spoke. “It should come as no surprise to you that I am appointing Galerius as my Caesar, my junior emperor, and my adopted son. And when I die or retire, Galerius will succeed me.”

Cheers and applause once again rang out in the great hall, and Valeria clapped vigorously with the rest of them.

Diocletian then deferred to Maximian, who announced, “Constantius shall become my Caesar, my junior emperor, my adopted son, and my successor.”

Applause erupted again.

“Excellent choice,” shouted a senator from the Danube. “Both the Caesars are military men of Danubian origin.”

The dignitaries from the Danube area went wild—whistling, clapping, and stomping the floor. When Diocletian raised his hand to continue, the cheering ceased. “Each of the tetrarchs will have his own capital city, in a territory under his control. The idea will be to create a system by which heirs to the throne are appointed by merit and will rule as Caesars long before the place of Augustus becomes vacant. They will have the responsibility of appointing the next Caesar by merit. This system will assure that the best men for the job ascend to the throne.”

“My lord,” a general questioned, “will the tetrarchy split the empire?”

“Absolutely not,” Diocletian declared. “The empire will be divided into four quadrants, but it will remain one unit, ruled by four men.”

Valeria was surprised to notice that her mother appeared increasingly bored, while she herself found the conversation fascinating. She wished she could join in but, of course, a woman would never be allowed to speak unless she was called upon.

A high-ranking military officer posed a question, “My lord, do you feel this districting will quell the uprisings throughout the empire?”

“It will certainly help,” Diocletian assured him, “but as you know, the empire is still a vast territory.”

Galerius requested permission to speak and stood to his feet when Diocletian nodded. “The problem of the uprisings lies
within the provinces. With so much nepotism in the regions, rebellion is inevitable, but it is imperative that we reduce the power of the provincial governors. What do you propose, Lord?”

Diocletian smiled at his new son-in-law. “Ah, spoken like a Caesar under my rule. What do you recommend, my son?”

Valeria marveled at her father’s wisdom. She was certain he knew how to accomplish this objective, but he was facilitating a chance for Galerius to shine in front of the guests.

Valeria’s husband did not hesitate. “We must weaken the governors’ powers.”

“And how would you suggest that we do this?”

Galerius held up a wine goblet and ordered a soldier to drink half of the wine. Then he replenished the cup with water and passed it back to the soldier. “Drink it again,” he said, “and tell us how it tastes.”

The man did so and then answered, “Ah, very weak. With the water in the wine, it has only half the strength of the undiluted wine.”

Galerius, still smiling, stated, “We diluted the wine by adding water. Using this same theory, we will add more governors, which will ultimately weaken the power of the existing rulers.”

“Where do you propose that we add these governors?” another senator asked.

“In the Roman Empire we have fifty provinces. We will shrink the boundaries and establish one hundred provinces and appoint additional governors for each province.”