Oh my poor love, I thought, turning to cradle his head against my breast, you are tempered too finely to be used for this butchery.
“When we had won the city… the other officers took women,” he whispered then. “I could not do it, not with all that death around.”
I tightened my grip, unreasonably pleased, whatever the reason, that he had been faithful. It was not something I had a right to ask, but it certainly, I thought with secret amusement, explained the intensity of his need.
“You are life…” murmured Constantius.
His lips brushed one nipple. I could feel both of them harden at his touch, and the rekindling of the fire between my thighs.
“I have seen so much killing… let me make life in you…”
His hands moved upon my body with a deliberation and a need more compelling than his first compulsion, and I found myself opening to his touch more deeply than ever before. At the ultimate moment he rose above me and I saw his features by firelight, focused in ecstasy.
“The sun!” he gasped. “The sun shines at midnight!”
At that moment my own completion came upon me, and I could not tell him that it was only the light of the bonfire they had kindled to celebrate the Emperor’s victory.
In the silent hour before dawn, the only time, at this season, that it was truly cool, I rose to relieve myself. When I returned from the privy, I stood for a time, gazing out of the window and enjoying the touch of the chill air on my bare skin. The fire in the forum had burned out, and sleep, that next to death was the greatest of conquerors, had overwhelmed the revellers. Even Hylas, who had roused when I did, had lain down again.
A sound from the bed made me turn. Constantius was clutching at the bedclothes, groaning. As I watched, tears squeezed from beneath his tight-shut eyelids and began to roll down his cheeks. I hurried back and lay down beside him, winding him in my arms. Once, I thought, I had been the one who had the nightmares, but since I left Avalon I did not dream any more.
“It’s all right,” I murmured, knowing it was the tone that would reach him, not the words. “You are all right now—I am here…”
“The sun shines at midnight—” he groaned. “The temple burns! Apollo! Apollo is weeping!”
I soothed him, wondering if this was something he had seen on the campaign. The Emperor’s personal deity was the sun-god—I could not believe he would willingly destroy a sanctuary, but I had heard that in warfare the destruction sometimes got out of hand.
“Hush, my love, and open your eyes—it is morning, do you see? Apollo is driving his chariot above the rim of the world—”
With lips and hands I set out to awaken him, and was rewarded presently when he quickened to my touch once more. This time our loving was slow and sweet. By the time we had finished, Constantius was awake once more, and smiling.
“Ah, my queen, I have brought gifts for you—” Naked, he padded over to the bag that someone had brought while we slept and set just inside the door. “I meant to array you in this for our first night back together, but you are more beautiful clad only in your night-dark hair…’
He rummaged in the bag, and pulled out something wrapped in unbleached linen. As the rough cloth fell away, a blaze of colour smote the eye. Constantius shook out a silk chiton dyed the true, imperial purple, and held it out to me.
“My love, it is too splendid!” I exclaimed, but I took the garment, wondering at the fine weave of the fabric, and slipped it over my head. I shivered as the silk caressed my skin and swayed, feeling the soft folds mould themselves to my body.
“By the gods, purple becomes you!” he exclaimed, his glance kindling.
“But I can never wear it,” I reminded him.
“Not outside,” he agreed, “but in our bedchamber you are my Empress and my Queen!”
And in bed or out, you, my beloved, are my Emperor! I thought, admiring the powerful balance of his naked body, but even here I dared not speak those words aloud.