"Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Olivia 1 - A Flame in Byzantium" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

"I have that sort of face," said Olivia.
"Perhaps more than that," murmured the slave-woman. "I have been in your household for more than
eight years and I have not noticed a change in you. There are those, not close to you, who have hinted
that you must practice the magical arts of the old days, when sorcery was used by the witch Messalina."
She said this last with her eyes averted.
"Messalina was hardly a witch: she had the misfortune to be married to that pervert Claudius, and
thatтАФ" She heard the sound of her voice and broke off. "I cannot believe that Messalina used any arts
but her own womanliness to lure her husband."
"They say that her husband wasn't all she lured," the slave said, her face more animated. "She was an
infamous adulteress."
"And whose idea was that, do you think?" Olivia asked, and then, before Fisera could answer, she
went on. "Well, that was hundreds of years ago, wasn't it? And I have guests who require entertainment
this evening. You brought me the pallia, I see. Perhaps I ought to choose one so you may pack the
other."
"It depends on what paenula you have selected." Fisera held up the rose-and-gold pallium. "This
brings out color."
"So it does," agreed Olivia. "And still, do I want color? Do I want to shout or whisper?" She fingered
the two pallia. "Which is best?"
"You have the gold pectoral, and you can wear it with this. It would make a very impressiveтАФ"
"You're probably right," said Olivia, reaching for the other pallium. "But tonight, ah, tonight I believe
that I will harken back to the old times. This and the paenula of pale silk, you know the one. I'll wear
them over the samite dalmatica, the one with the silver threads. And there's one other thing. Instead of a
tablion, get me that pectoral in silver, the disk with the raised wings."
"If you like," said Fisera, clearly disapproving.
"There's just tonight, Fisera, and then you will be free to do or say whatever you wish to me, and you
will have money enough to leave here and to establish yourself wherever you wish. You have been a
good and faithful servant to me. For that, your freedom is a small enough token."
The sincerity in Olivia's voice clearly startled Fisera, and she hesitated before saying anything more.
"Why the pectoral?"
"Because it reminds me of a very old friend, who gave it to me many, many years ago." Olivia's smile
did not quite succeed, but she went on. "He told me a few home truths that I must remember while I live
in Constantinople. What a hideous thought."
"If you go, none of us will be able to live. We will be taken by soldiers or monks and we will be more
slaves then than ever we have been for you." This outburst was more alarming to Fisera than to Olivia,
who had been expecting something of the sort since the day before yesterday.
"I have already sent copies of your writs of manumission to the monks for their records, and I will see
that every one of you has their own writ to keep." When she had been young, almost half her household
slaves could read. In the intervening centuries fewer and fewer slaves had acquired the skill until now less
than a dozen of her staff were literate. "As long as you and the monks have the documents, there is safety
for you. But you must keep the writ with you, so that you can prove that you are truly freed. You will
have money and you will have supplies. Unless you choose badly, you will have no reason to regret being
freed."
"Rudis says that we are being freed so that the invaders will spend time gathering us up so that you
can escape and that you have no intention of letting us remain free once the threat of Totila is over."
Fisera had started to cry in the sudden and violent way that made Olivia think of a summer thunderstorm.
"Why would I free you if I intended that? Why would I bother? I would need only to tell you where
you must go and you would have to comply with my wishes. If Rudis is correct, then I have done this
most stupidly." She put one hand on her hip. "If you want a military escort, I suppose I could convince
the General to provide you one. And speaking of the General," she said in a more hasty tone, "I suppose
I ought to prepare to greet him. Get me the dalmatica and the paenula and the pallium and that silver