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

pectoral, and then help me do something with my hair. And for the love ofтАж the Saints, don't fret. You
will be safe when you leave."
Fisera sniffed deeply as she began to follow Olivia's orders. Her fears had been assuaged but they
had not vanished.
Some little time later, Olivia emerged from her room to seek out her guests. She was magnificent to
see, though most would have been hard-pressed to say why, for she was dressed almost as mutedly as a
religious. Somehow, in the colors and chaste silver ornaments, she contrived a richness that was far more
impressive than the gaudy colors worn by the retinue of General Belisarius, who was arrayed in bright red
and orange with bright medallions on his bracchae and his high leather boots.
"We are more grateful to you, great lady, than we can express," said the General as he made a
reverence to his hostess. "Your reception of us has been princely."
"Hardly," she said with candor, recalling the splendor of the courts of Nero and Otho and
Vespasianus, half a millennium ago. "You are most welcome here, General, as are your men." She looked
around the room, her eyes lingering briefly on Drosos whose hair was still wet from the baths and who
wore turquoise silk and a pallium of silver and lavender.
Belisarius indicated his fourteen companions. "There are a number of us, as you see, more than we
had thought there would be at first, and you are more than generous to provide for us on such short
notice. From what we have seen of Roma inside the walls, you are more fortunate than most."
"And more circumspect," said Olivia. "Only a fool would think that Totila would wait for us to
prepare for him before he attacked." She was very much a part of her reception room, which was a pale,
faded blue with false fluted columns painted silver. Yet instead of vanishing into the walls, she seemed to
make all the room an extension of herself. The men watched her with admiration and other emotions.
"They are paying the price for their foolishness now," said Belisarius. "And what little we can do, I
fear, comes too late. If we had come a few months earlier, or if the supplies had been adequate, or if the
Bishop of Roma had not left the city when he did, we might have a better chance of defense, but the way
things stand, there is nothing left to do but to insure that the least damage possible is done while Totila
holds the city."
"You believe he will succeed, then?" asked Olivia, her calm not as complete as she would have liked.
"Unfortunately, yes; for a time. And then we will roust him, for we are the stronger forces and we are
not barbarians." Belisarius looked over his men. "Occasionally one of the men will forget this and then
there is much cause forтАФ"
 Stamos, a powerful man with scars seaming his face and hands, looked suddenly flustered. "They
were under orders not to harm anyone," he protested, although no one had accused him of anything.
"They were also without adequate care and advice, and for that if no other reason, there is much for
you and the rest of those officers who have had similar incidents to answer for. You have your men
submit to proper punishment, and see that it is carried out where those who were the most harmed may
witness it for themselves so that they will not regard us as little better than those we are here to fight."
Belisarius turned to Olivia and the harshness of his attitude faded at once. "I do not mean to distress you,
great lady. These matters are for more private times, and you must forgive us for being so uncaring."
Olivia, who had heard much worse than this over the long decades of her life, waved her hand to
show that she was not distressed by what she had heard. "You must attend to your work, General, as
must all of us in such times as these." She clapped her hands sharply and two slaves appeared in the
doorway. "Is the dining room ready?"
"Yes, mistress," said the older of the two. "And there are cup bearers waiting with wine."
"Cup bearers!" cried out one of the Byzantines. "How Roman!"
"This is Roma," Olivia reminded them all. "And I am a Roman."
As they went into the dining room, none of the men thought it strange that Olivia did not have a couch
of her own, and that she did not eat with them. In Constantinople, most women did not dine with men
except on very special occasions; even then, they often dined apart from their fathers, brothers and
husbands, watching them from terraces and balconies instead of sitting or reclining beside them.