Bertrice Small - Adora

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.

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!”