After an hour they were prevailed upon by the captain of their guard to enter the cart. The procession was almost at a halt. Now more people could see them, and the cheers became louder. They were an outrageously handsome couple: the blond, blue-eyed Alexander dressed in the silver and blue colors of his House with the great sapphire seal of Mesembria upon his chest; Adora in creamy white velvet and gold, her violet eyes shining, wearing a small gold circlet on her dark head, her long hair loose.
At last they reached the gates of the new palace where they were greeted by Basil, representatives of Mesembria’s noble families, and officers of the city’s guilds. The royal couple descended from the cart and the chamberlain gravely handed them golden keys to the gates.
“The Palace of the Laughing Dolphin, my lord despot. From the loyal and loving people of your city. We wish you and our lady queen long life, good health, many strong sons and fair daughters. May the heirs of Alexander and Theadora rule over us for a thousand years!” he shouted, and the people roared their approval.
Alexander inclined his head to the representatives. “Our thanks to you all,” he said. “Let word go out through the city that we are pleased and will be ever grateful for the generosity of those we rule.
“We will show our gratitude by restoring the city to its former glory. No one in Mesembria will go hungry or homeless ever again. Taxes will be suspended for one year. Schools will be opened to all the children— even the maidens! This city will again flourish. On this you have our royal word!”
The gates to the palace swung open behind him, and Adora called in a ringing voice, “Come! Come and share a cup of wine with my lord and me. Celebrate with us a new golden age for the city of Mesembria!”
Again she felt his approval wash over her. Hand in hand, they led their guests through the palace grounds to the garden terrace. Tables had been set up and servants waited with food and drink. Toast after toast was drunk throughout the afternoon until the last guest finally departed.
Unable to believe they were really alone, the two stood gazing happily at one another.
“Will you be happy here?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she answered softly. “I am happy wherever we are together.”
“I want to make love to you,” he said evenly and then, looking helplessly about, complained, “but I do not even know where our bedchamber is!”
She began to laugh, and he joined her, the deep peals of his mirth booming over her bell-like amusement. “Anna!” she gasped out. “Anna!” and when her servant appeared Adora managed to say, “Our bedchamber? Where is it?”
The servant woman’s black eyes flashed delighted comprehension. “Come,” she said. “I was just coming to get you both. I have your bath ready, my princess, and Zeno waits to attend you, sire.”
They followed her into the palace through a corridor painted with frescos of the ancient Greek games. The ceiling beams were carved and gilded, the marble floors covered with thick blue and red rugs from Persia. At the end of the corridor was a double door marked with the Mesembrian coat of arms. Crowned Neptune, triton in hand, rose from the waves against a scallopshell background. Anna did not slacken her pace, and the soldiers standing guard on either side of the doors flung them wide.
Anna gestured. “My lord’s apartment is to the right. I am sure he will wish to bathe the salt and wind of the sea voyage from his skin. My lady’s apartment is here, and an oil bath awaits her.”
Biting her lip to keep from laughing Adora looked helplessly to her husband. He shrugged and, catching her hand, kissed it. “Until later, beauty,” he murmured. She nodded and followed Anna.
Theadora’s rooms included a sunny day room with a large marble fireplace, the side pillars of which were carvings of naked young goddesses. The leaping flames cast red and gold shadows over them, giving them a seductive appearance. The walls of the day room were hung with the most beautiful silk tapestries Adora had ever seen. There were twelve, each one depicting an event in the life of Venus. The marble floors were covered by thick rugs. The windows were hung with silken draperies and the furnishings were a mixture of Byzantine and Eastern styles. The colors of this day room were predominantly azure blue and gold.
Adora’s bedroom was done in shades of coral-pink and a pale cream color with the barest touch of gold. The matching dressing table from the ship was there, as Alexander had promised. But to her delight the big bed was also shaped like a huge scalloped shell. Its feet were made of gold dolphins who rested on their curved tails balancing the shell on their noses. The bed was topped by a golden coronet and hung with sheer silk gauze draperies of coral pink. This fairy-tale room looked out onto the sea. She felt a flush creep up her neck as she imagined Alexander and herself making love in that marvelous bed in this wonderful room.
“Your bath is through here, my princess.” She jumped at Anna’s voice.
They entered a blue-tiled room with a sunken bathing pool where several young maidservants waited. Within the hour she was bathed, her skin and hair free of salt. After donning a loose caftan of pale apricot-colored silk, she entered her day room again and found a supper table set up by the windows. The sky had begun to darken and the moon was rising, reflected in the calm sea.
Awaiting her, in a white silk caftan, was Alexander. The servants had magically disappeared. “Do you mind playing the maid-servant, my love?”
“No, I want to be alone with you. It has been hours since we were able to be together without a crowd.”
She poured him a goblet of golden Cyprus wine and then, giggling, filled his plate with raw oysters, breast of capon, and black olives. “Our cook lacks subtlety. Even the dessert is made of eggs!”
He laughed, then sobered and reminded her “Mesembria does need an heir, Adora. I am the last of my line. There is no one left after me, no one who might rule if I died. The fire that killed my brothers and their families also took many of my uncles and cousins, all my father’s relatives. They were all there that night celebrating my eldest brother’s birthday. Until we have a son, I am the last of the Heracles.”
Standing beside him she drew his head against the scented softness of her breasts. “We will have a son, my lord. This I promise you!”
Looking up he let his aquamarine eyes lock onto her amethyst ones and saw mirrored there far greater promises: the promise of many happy years, of a large family to replace the one he had lost, of a thousand nights of delight followed by ten times a thousand. Standing up, he held her lightly by the shoulders and looked into her upturned face.
“The food will wait, my love,” said Alexander. And sweeping his wife into his arms, he carried her off to the great shell bed.
Chapter Fifteen
Theadora had fallen in love with Mesembria quite easily. But it did, as Alexander had said, need rebuilding. It was nineteen hundred years old. Its rulers studied an accurate scale model of the city and decided that, before the public buildings could be renovated, housing for the poor must be improved. There were at least three sections of wooden tenements that were always subject to fire, and a bad conflagration could do serious damage to the entire city.
Alexander arranged to have the owners of these buildings brought before him. Adora at his side, he quietly explained what he was going to do. The existing wooden buildings would be torn down and new brick buildings would be erected. The owners had a choice. They could sell to him if they wished, but he would set the price. Or they could bear half the expense of the new buildings. Those men who kept their buildings and worked with Alexander would be exempt from taxes for five years.
Only three old men chose to sell. Their buildings were quickly bought, not by Alexander, but by their fellows.
Only one section at a time would be done, and the residents of the section being worked on would be housed in a tent city.
Afterwards, the public buildings would be redone. And the parks would be done as well.
While this was going on, Alexander’s plans for turning Mesembria into
a great commercial center would also be progressing. Already he was planning a trip to Trebizond to negotiate an agreement. Trebizond, one end of an overland route from the rich Far East, was a desirable location.
There was an already established trade route from the North: from Scandinavia across the Baltic into the Gulf of Finland, then overland to Lake Ladoga, Novgorod, and down to Smolensk, where it met with another route from across the Baltic into the Gulf of Riga, and then overland. Carefully hugging the shoreline, the trading fleets stopped at Tyras and Mesembria to take on water before going on to Constantinople.
This year, when the trading fleets put into Mesembria, their owners found themselves invited to dine with the new ruler. As Alexander was no polished Byzantine courtier who played at word games he always came right to the point. “Tell me,” he asked quietly, “what you’ll get for your cargos in Constantinople?”
One merchant, cannier than the rest, named a figure that the prince knew was double the actual figure. Alexander laughed. “Half your price, my greedy friend, and then add twenty-five percent to it. That is my offer to you. Take it either in gold or in trade goods, or in some of each. I can offer you the same fine quality merchandise that Constantinople does, and at less cost to you.”
For a moment the merchants were silent. Then one asked, “Why do you offer to buy our cargos at a price you know we would be foolish to refuse? Not only can we return home with fine merchandise to sell, but for the first time in years we will have gold in our pockets as well.”
“I wish to rebuild my city, friends,” replied Alexander. “For too long Constantinople has taken from us, yet we have received nothing in return. With your cooperation I shall make a great commercial center of Mesembria. Soon I go to Trebizond, the state from which my mother came. I shall speak with my uncle, its emperor. Already his emissaries have assured me of the emperor’s interest in my plan. When you come again next year the riches of the Far East—the silks, the jewels, the spices—will be here for you, for Trebizond will do business with me first. The Commenii family have little love for the Paleaologi family.”
“Let us see the quality of your goods, my lord,” said the merchants’ spokesman, and Alexander knew he had won this first round. Clapping his hands, he sent a servant to fetch Basil. “My chamberlain will take you,” he said. “I realize that my presence might intimidate you. Talk freely among yourselves. When you have seen my goods we will speak again.”
The merchants trooped out and Alexander sat back in his chair reflectively sipping wine from a Venetian crystal goblet set with silver and turquoise. The merchants would be foolish to refuse Alexander’s offer.
And when they saw his trade goods they would be more than anxious to come to Mesembria rather than go to Constantinople. Mesembria was a shorter trip, but the real savings in time was the fact that their entire cargos would be bought by Alexander. There would be no more haggling with Constantinople’s merchants for bits and pieces of cargos. There would be no port taxes, landing fees, or trading permits. There would also be no officials seeking bribes. And Mesembria offered sailors amusements just as varied as Constantinople’s.
Upon returning the merchants could not hide their enthusiasm. The bargain was quickly struck. The prince would personally inspect their cargos and then payment would be made. Alexander was jubilant. His dreams were beginning to come true.
Adora had been working hard to give substance to her dream of education for all the city’s youth. Schools were opened offering both classical and practical education. The new queen decreed that all the children of her city must learn to read and to write. From the age of six to the age of twelve they were expected to attend school six months of the year. People of any age, however, were welcome to attend.
Even little girls were expected to go to school. When at first a grumbling arose about the foolishness of educating women, Adora reminded the parents of Mesembria of their proud Greek heritage. The maidens of ancient Greece had been taught along with their brothers. She then offered to dower the ten best female students each year, thereby greatly enhancing the value of an educated wife!
The days moved swiftly in a haze of hard work, for neither Alexander nor Theadora was an idle ruler. The nights were slow passages of sensual delights. The lovers strove to found a new dynasty for Mesembria, but Adora did not conceive.
Two nights before he was to leave for Trebizond, Alexander surprised his wife by designating her his regent in his absence. Adora was furious. “But I want to go with you,” she protested. “I cannot bear to be separated from you! I will not be!”
He laughed and, pulling her down into his lap, kissed her angry mouth. “I cannot bear being separated from you either, beauty. But I must go, and we should not both be gone from our city at the same time.”
Her violet eyes were mutinous. “Why not?”
“What if you are with child? What if you came with me and the ship sank? Mesembria would be without a Heracles for the first time in five centuries.”
“Mesembria,” she answered with logic, “would be the poorer without the Heracles family. I will admit that. But it would survive. And besides, I have just finished my show of blood and so am not with child as you well know!”
“Ah, beauty, but we have tonight and tomorrow before us,” and indeed his hands were wandering provocatively.
“No!” She leapt from his lap. “I am not a brood mare! A wife’s place is by her husband’s side. I would go with you, and I will!”
He sighed. “You are behaving like a child, Adora.”
“And you, my lord husband, with all your talk of dynasties are sounding more like a pompous ass every minute. I am not with child, and the likelihood of my becoming so in these next two days is zero! However, if you will let me go with you we may return from Trebizond with not only a trade agreement but the hope of an heir as well. Or is it that you have some agreeable little creature who eagerly awaits your arrival in Trebizond?”
“Theadora!”
“Alexander!”
Her outrage and determination heightened her beauty, and he nearly succumbed. But a man must still be master in his own house. With a swiftness that quite surprised her, he caught her and, turning her over his knee, pulled up her gown and paddled her bare bottom. She shrieked, more with outrage than with pain.
“If you behave like a child you must be treated like one,” he said sternly, giving her a final swat. He turned her back over.
“I will never forgive you for this,” she sobbed.
“Yes, you will,” he answered with infuriating calm, and his mouth turned up in a mischievous smile as he bent to kiss her. She compressed her lips tightly together. Chuckling, he persisted, nibbling at her mouth while her eyes flashed outrage at him. Then he stopped and said quietly, “Theadora, my sweet Adora! I love you!”
“Damn you, Alexander,” she responded huskily, and her arms encircled his neck. “First you beat me, and then you want to make love to me. I have heard about men like you, and I do not know if I approve!”
He began to laugh. “Where on earth did you ever learn of such things, Adora?”
“The women in Orkhan’s harem may be cloistered, but they are quite knowledgeable, and there is little to do there but talk.”
“It is a husband’s duty to correct and chastise his wife,” he teased her.
“Not just before he wants to make love to her,” she teased him back.
That night he made love to her slowly and with such controlled passion that several times she screamed at him to take her now! She had never known him to be so deliberate. He used her body as he might have used a fine instrument—with great delicacy and with a skill that left her breathless and pleading for more.
His head moved slowly down her body, kissing softly, until he reached her secret place. He tasted her, and she moaned, her head thrashing wildly. He raised his golden head. “Do you remember the first time, beauty? The first time I loved you like this?”
“Y-Yes!”
&nb
sp; He smiled tenderly down at her. “You’ve learned to like it, haven’t you?”
“Yes!”
“You’re like a fine sweet wine,” he said thickly, and then swung over her. She writhed beneath him, her amethyst eyes pleading, and he gently thrust into her.
“Oh, Alexander,” she breathed, eagerly receiving him. For the first time she used an ancient sexual art taught to her in the harem of her first husband. Her vaginal muscles tightened around him, gently at first, then with increasing pressure as the rhythm quickened. He groaned with surprised pleasure, murmuring against her ear, “Christos! You witch! Ah, stop—or there will be no time for you to reach the top of your own mountain!”
She was in control now, and the feeling of power was delicious. “Will you love me only once this night, my lord?” And she squeezed him tightly, almost hurting him. He cried out and, sobbing with relief, released his tortured seed. “Beloved,” she whispered, tenderly cradling his head against her breasts.
They lay quietly for some time, and then she felt him suddenly hard again against her leg. “Now, beauty,” he said, his voice strong again, “I shall have my sweet revenge!” And he was in her moving so rapidly that she could not grip him. Pleasure began to wash over her in wave after wave. Then she began to climb with him to the top of that mountain they both knew so well. Nothing mattered but the sweet, burning intensity between them. She could go no further, but he forced her onward until suddenly she was tumbling through a golden spiral, into a soft, perfect peace.
When she finally regained her senses she found herself in the warm, safe circle of his, arms. Raising her head, she gazed into his beautiful aquamarine eyes. He smiled. “We have loved each other well beauty, haven’t we?”
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