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Eddy Goldman, founder of Chess Ninja London, poker pro and musician enters the GRID with seven-deuce suited. Eddy has had a very storied life, from a jail cell in Singapore, to streamed games at the Hippodrome. Eddy talks to us about a hand he played in April 2025 at the Irish Open cash games. With... The post The Grid 084 ft. Eddy Goldman– Seven-Deuce Suited appeared first on The Poker Grid.
1000 Hours Podcast takes a look back at the pioneer era of pro wrestling. With information pulled from my latest book, DragonKingKarl's Pioneer Era Pro Wrestling Omnibus: The Bible of the Pioneer Era of Wrestling. On this episode, hour 68 of our series, we continue our look at the post 1870 Detroit International Tournament era. New York is growing as a hub for pro wrestling and promoter and former champion Harry Hill is putting together pro wrestling's first syndicate, trust, or promotion featuring Homer Lane, and the John McMahon family. Also, the future biggest arena in sports takes its first form. YOU CONTROL THIS SERIES! It will only run as long as it is supported. In order to get another hour of 1000 hours we need a new Patreon supporter at any level or a cash donation via the front page of WhenItWasCool.com to either PayPal or CashApp (Please put “1000” in the note). As soon as it is received, I will produce a new hour. Presently, we are funded up to hour 89.
UK Jets fans talking Jets stuff
Interview avec Sebastien Azema pour parler du Cirque Medrano, présent à l'Hippodrome de Strasbourg-Hoerdt du 19 au 23 février.Réalisé en direct sur RBS le 11/02/25 avec Pierre Liermann
UK Guys chatting NY Jets stuff
In today's episode, we talk with Lucia Carrillo—founder and head brewer at Cervecería Itañeñe in Mexico City, a very small brewery that's big on flavor, often using ingredients from Mexican culinary traditions, or even endemic to the country—and her partner Rodrigo Romo, who also brews at Itañeñe and works at Tout Chocolat making craft chocolate bars and bon bons, pastries, and coffee at its cafes in the Mexico City area. Rodrigo and Lucia have worked together on beers and chocolates that use similar ingredients—including flavors and ingredients endemic to Mexican ecology or used in Mexican culinary traditions—as well as beers using chocolate or its ingredients, or chocolates using beer or its ingredients, to blur the lines between these worlds.I first tried one of Itañeñe's beers at the Great Mexican Beer Fiesta at Cervecería Colorado in Denver, several years ago. The one-day fest takes place during the Great American Beer Festival at the same time, and it's my favorite part of GABF week. Cervecería Colorado and Itañeñe had collaborated on a beer brewed with rosita de cacao, a flower unrelated to theobroma cacao, but sharing some cocoa-like flavors.This past fall I had the privilege of being a judge at Copa Cerveza Mexico, and finally got to meet Lucia and Rodrigo. Later in the trip, I walked to Tout's beautiful Hippodrome location and sat at an outdoor cafe table enjoying a flat white and several of their excellent bon bons.I had the chance to talk with Lucia and Rodrigo recently about their pursuit of unique flavors, their chocolate and beer collaborations, and what makes Mexican beer and chocolate unique and exciting. At the outset, I asked how they got involved in these worlds in the first place.Guests:Lucia Carrillo—Food engineer, beer judge, sommelier, sensory panel judge, and Itañeñe brewer with more than 50 beer medals.Rodrigo Romo—Itañeñe brewer, pastry chef, winner of the Sweet Arts competition, chocolatier, and winner of more than 30 beer medals. Check out David's book Pairing Beer & Chocolate: A Guide to Bringing the Flavors of Craft Beer and Craft Chocolate Together.Follow Bean to Barstool on social media!InstagramFacebookPinterestSign up for host David Nilsen's beer newsletter for regular beer musings, and the Bean to Barstool newsletter for pairings, collaborations, and maker profiles.
RNIB Connect Radio's Toby Davey is joined again by Vidar Hjardeng MBE, Inclusion and Diversity Consultant for ITV News across England, Wales, Northern Ireland and the Channel Islands for the next of his regular audio described theatre reviews for 2025. This week it is all about that maybe first live theatre experience as Vidar reviews two audio described pantomime performances with ‘Peter Pan' at the Birmingham Hippodrome and ‘The Little Mermaid' at the Newcastle Theatre Royal. The panto adventure that never grows old! Following a triumphant season last year, and by popular demand, Birmingham's own Alison Hammond returned to Birmingham Hippodrome's panto, leading the cast as The Magical Mermaid! Alison joins Hippodrome panto star and award-winning comic Matt Slack, who returned for an eleventh season as Smee, star of stage and screen Danny Mac as Captain Hook, resident dame Andrew Ryan and Billie-Kay who returnd for a second year as Tink! They were joined by Rhiannon Chesterman as Wendy, and Noah Harrison in the title role of Peter Pan. With amazing special effects, stunning sets and beautiful costumes direct from The London Palladium, Peter Pan takes the whole family on a magical trip to Neverland like never before! For more about access at the Birmingham Hippodrome including details of audio described performances do visit - https://www.birminghamhippodrome.com/plan-your-visit/access/ More about The Little Mermaid The Little Mermaid is a family show with bangs and flashes, a couple of scary moments, a bit of panto innuendo (never intended to offend) – and some very old jokes! With Pinocchio smashing Box Office records, Newcastle Theatre Royal premiered another new pantomime spectacular with a magical adventure under the sea – The Little Mermaid. Cast included Newcastle's pantomime superstar Danny Adams, Theatre Royal favourites Clive Webb, Chris Hayward and Joe McElderry, returning panto regulars Mick Potts, Wayne Smith, Kylie Ann Ford, and Christina Berriman Dawson and newcomers Christian Maynard and Maggie Lynne, as they dived to the depths of the ocean in an exhilarating and enchanting theatrical extravaganza. Danny plays Danny Crabstix, best friend to Ariel, the bravest mermaid in King Triton's kingdom, who must fight-off the evil Sea Witch after she steals her voice in return for the ability to live amongst the humans, way above the ocean. For more about access and audio described performances at Newcastle Theatre Royal do visit - https://www.theatreroyal.co.uk/plan-your-visit/access-information/ (Image shows RNIB logo. 'RNIB' written in black capital letters over a white background and underlined with a bold pink line, with the words 'See differently' underneath)
Chariot racing was a dangerous and violent sport at the best of times, but on 13th January, 532, a hooligan-led protest at the Hippodrome of Constantinople - known as ‘the Nika rebellion' - ultimately lead to over 30,000 deaths and the destruction of half the City. Upon hearing his wife urge him that ‘royalty is a good burial shroud', the Emperor Justinian reportedly decided to slaughter his own people to maintain his position of power. Yet, despite this, he was ultimately deemed to have earned his epithet: ‘The Great'. In this episode, Arion, Rebecca and Olly unearth the tradition of ‘curse tablets'; explain why Empress Theodora switched allegiances from the ‘greens' to the ‘blues'; and reveal how a eunuch wielding gold coins helped to stabilise the Byzantine empire… Further Reading: • ‘Overview of the Nika Revolt' (ThoughtCo, 2019): https://www.thoughtco.com/the-nika-revolt-1788557 • Deadly Moments in History - The Nika Riots (Invicta, 2018): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dm9mscL2qHU • ‘12 Historic Little Known Rebellions with Tragic and Bloody Ends' (History Collection, 2017): https://historycollection.com/12-historic-little-known-rebellions-tragic-bloody-ends/9/ ‘Why am I hearing a rerun?' Each Thursday and Friday we repeat stories from our archive of 800+ episodes, so we can maintain the quality of our independent podcast and bring you fresh, free content every Monday-Wednesday… … But
Hey listeners: This week, everyone gets a taste of what paid supporters get more regularly—a special Booklab: First Pages episode. Each month (and sometimes more often), we'll choose two “first pages” to review. A first page, for our purposes, is the first 350 words of your book—fiction, non-fiction or memoir. We will read the page aloud on the podcast and discuss with a single thought in mind: Would we keep reading?First pages are incredibly important in every genre. If you can't grab a reader on that first page, you might lose your chance of grabbing them at all. On the podcast, we'll read the page aloud and then each cast our “vote”—would we keep going? Then—and this is the most important bit— we'll discuss why or why not. Were we dying to know what would happen next, or turned off by an info dump? Ready to learn what you have to teach us or ready to see what's on YouTube? Totally on board with a character or uncertain why we were there in the first place?In this episode, we discuss our first non-fiction first page submission, and then tackle a novel with an intriguing title and a great first line: Holding a pair of tweezers in one hand and a can of Scotchgard in the other, Stella Singh sprays the top of a golden brioche bun until it shimmers like a Las Vegas showgirl.The opportunity to have your first page reviewed is available to our Sticker and Sparkly Star Sticker supporters only. (That's anyone with a monthly or annual subscription via Substack). Always, there's one central question: Would we turn the page? We tell you why or why not, and help these generous, brave writers to make their first pages irresistible—and their examples will help you make your first page sing.This episode is for everyone! But Booklabs (like the one we released earlier this week, discussing a novel with another great first line: Every expensive hotel has its own scent and a memoir of parenting an adult child with addiction) are usually for paid supporters only. So if you haven't—yet—decided to support the podcast we know you love, now's the perfect time. In January, we'll be launching a fresh new Blueprint for a Book with five Author Accelerator certified book coaches who will be answering your questions in live sessions and in our chat for 10 weeks (+ your hosts will be joining in on that, too), write-along sessions, a workbook to guide you, free digital downloads of my Blueprint book, and the chance to win a full Blueprint review from Jennie or KJ at the end—plus, KJ doing her own Blueprint right along with the rest of the crew. The Winter 2025 Blueprint challenge will be for paid supporters only. Paid supporters also get Booklab episodes, the ability to submit first pages for consideration for a future episode of Booklabs and weekly AMA's with your hosts (starting up again in January). In honor of all that, we're offering a December sale on membership. The offer will end 12/31/24—so give 2025 you a gift and sign up now!Want to submit a first page? Paid subscribers click HERE for details. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit amwriting.substack.com/subscribe
Theater critic J. Wynn Rousuck joins Tom to share another weekly review of a local theatrical production. This week's review includes some of her favorite theater actors which are puppets. 'Life of Pi' tells the story of a young man's journey with zoo animals in the ocean after a shipwreck. The production runs through December 14 at the Hippodrome Theatre . Photo Credit: Matthew Murphy & Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMadeEmail us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
Debbie talks to Peter Emerson, director of He Rules the World, a concert retelling of the Nativity Scene at the Waco Hippodrome December 11-14th. He also discusses his Waco journey. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Theater critic J. Wynn Rousuck joins Midday to share another weekly review of a local theatrical production. This week, we discuss Into the Woods, at the Vagabond Players through Sunday, Nov. 17. Then we briefly take a look at another Broadway musical in town, MJ, at the Hippodrome through Sunday.Email us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
Hippodrome Jets Season 2 Week 10 Preview 2024 vs AZ with Jon & Al Jon & Al watch the NYJets every week down the Hippodrome in Leicester Square with other die hard UK Jets fans and our US Jets Brothers who are over on vacation/ work
This week, we welcome to the show the GPI Number 1 poker player Jesse Lonis. We are also joined by executive tournament director of the WPT Matt Savage. For strategy, we've got the newly crowned Eureka Cyprus champion Leo Worthington Lees. Kerry-Jane Craigie stops by to discuss the Women's Winter Festival at the Hippodrome. Plus, resident meme-lord Barry is here with all the latest news!
MAGICIAN: 2/8: Charlie Chaplin vs. America: When Art, Sex, and Politics Collided by Scott Eyman (Author) https://www.amazon.com/-/es/Scott-Eyman/dp/1982176350 Bestselling Hollywood biographer and film historian Scott Eyman tells the story of Charlie Chaplin's fall from grace. In the aftermath of World War II, Chaplin was criticized for being politically liberal and internationalist in outlook. He had never become a US citizen, something that would be held against him as xenophobia set in when the postwar Red Scare took hold. Politics aside, Chaplin had another problem: his sexual interest in young women. He had been married three times and had had numerous affairs. In the 1940s, he was the subject of a paternity suit, which he lost, despite blood tests that proved he was not the father. His sexuality became a convenient way for those who opposed his politics to condemn him. Refused permission to return to the US after a trip abroad, he settled in Switzerland and made his last two films in London. 1905 HIPPODROME
Midday Theater Critic J. Wynn Rousuck reviews & Juliet, on stage at the Hippodrome through Saturday, September 28. Romeo and Juliet is one of Shakespeare's great tragedies, but & Juliet adapts the story with humor and pop music.Email us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
Dissension in the capitolBased on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.“My guards were out in the city last night,” the Empress said. “They can confirm some of the captain’s reports. There is real wealth, real organization behind some of these dissenters.”“Traitors,” Belisarius growled. The dark-haired general’s cheeks were red with anger. “Augustus, let me bring my legions into the city. I can have the worst of the factions hanged by sunset.”The Emperor, Justinian, massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to let stratiotai loose in my own capital, Bel. The people aren’t our enemy.”“They’re burning the city down around us!”“Captain,” Theodora said before her husband could speak. She addressed the nervous-looking commander of the city guard. “We’ve had riots before. Why haven’t you been able to keep the peace these past few days?”The guardsman bowed low. “Your pardon, Augusta. I have few men under my command, and the Blues and Greens are well entrenched in most parts of the city. In the past, they’ve done a lot of the work in keeping their own neighborhoods orderly. Now, however,” He trailed off into a grimace."Now, they’re the bastards doing all the damage,” Antonina said from where she sat beside her husband.Belisarius’ wife had swept her blonde hair back from her face, sifting through a stack of reports on the table in front of her. Antonina accompanied the general nearly every time he went out on campaign. She was well used to helping him untangle the mess of paperwork that taking any sort of decision inevitably produced.“You cannot control the city, then?” The Empress said.“Forgive me, Augusta, but I cannot. Not on my own. I’ve lost dozens already in the attempt.”“Then let me bring in the legions,” Belisarius said, his fist slamming against the table. “We’re letting the mob run us over!”“Enough!” The Emperor snapped. “I am not slaughtering hundreds because a few nobles are stirring up discontent! We are an Empire of laws, and I will not taint our efforts with the senseless spilling of blood.”The two men glared at each other. They were men of power, both used to getting their own way. But of course, only one was Emperor.Belisarius looked away. “Of course, Augustus.”The Empress let out a breath. She dismissed the captain with a few words of thanks, before going to her husband. She leaned into him from behind his chair, wrapping her arms around his chest.Justinian slumped back. “The Blues and the Greens; why did my damned predecessors have to cede so much to them?”Theodora kissed him on the cheek. “We always knew that curtailing them would be difficult, love. Don’t lose sight of what we are trying to accomplish.”The Emperor breathed deeply of his wife’s scent, leaning into her touch. He let out a long sigh and straightened.“Okay. They want me to pardon the escaped prisoners, right? Will satisfy them?”“Seems like the minimum,” Antonina said, fanning her summer-reddened face. “They’ve already escaped, so what’s the harm?”“The harm,” Belisarius said. “Is that they were condemned to die.”“Bel is right, my love,” the Empress said. “You spoke of upholding our laws; what message does it send to those watching us for weakness if we capitulate on this now?”I shifted in my place against one of the walls. Helena and I were the only other ones in the room now, our post only a protective lunge from the Empress’ seat.They had been at this for an hour and more, a series of officials, titled aristocrats and soldiers streaming in and out of the Emperor’s office. They’d been summoned to give their official opinions, testimonies, and reports; the mass of information intended to aid the Emperor in handling the developing crisis.Or not handling it, as seemed to be the case.I turned away, looking towards the open window. Outside, the sun was high in the sky. I could see the sloping roofs of the Hagia Sofia and the Patriarch’s residence. The city stretched beyond, baking in the afternoon heat.The scorching summer temperature, not at all helped by the pall of smoke that hung over the capital’s streets.The planned chariot races were due to begin soon, when there was a loud knock at the door. One of the Excubitors on duty poked his head in.“Senator Hypatius is here, Augustus,” the man said.“What?” The Emperor responded. “This is a closed meeting. Send him away.”The guard hesitated. “Of course, sire. He says that he’s come from the city, however. And that he holds a list of the people’s demands.Justinian and his wife exchanged a glance. "Very well. Send him in.”“You Imperial Majesties,” the senator said, sweeping his robes out in a deep bow. “Thank you for seeing me.”“Out with it, Hypatius,” Belisarius growled. “We don’t have time for your pretty words.”“Of course, general,” the senator said. He approached after a nod from the Emperor, pulling a roll of parchment from somewhere on his person. “I’ll speak plainly. Representatives from the Blues and Greens approached me earlier today. We sat down together to speak of their grievances. This is the result of that meeting.”He set the parchment down. The Emperor, Belisarius, and Antonina set upon it like wolves; ripping it open and devouring its content. The Empress, however, watched the senator.“You’re uninterested in the people’s demands, Augusta?” Hypatius asked.“I have a good idea as to what they are already, senator,” she said. “I’m more interested in what role you play in all this.”The man smoothed his robes. “That of simple messenger, Augusta.”“But why you?” She said. “And who were these ‘representatives’ you met with.”Hypatius shrugged. “I’m not sure. But I’ve worked hard to cultivate a reputation as a fair man who is much agreeable to reason. So, perhaps it is for that.”“Indeed,” the Empress said. “It must be your, reputation.”The senator bristled, but the Emperor chose that moment to speak. “This is absurd! The dismissal of my prefect, John, and of my quaestor? The full pardon of the prisoners and the repeal of my new laws?”“Not every single one of your new laws, Augustus,” Hypatius said, smoothly. “I believe those changes most desired are spelled out.”“No,” the Emperor said. “Not all. Mainly those towards women and the change in the aristocracy’s share of tax.”“The people are aggrieved, your Majesty,” Hypatius said. “You’ve stripped the Blues and Greens of power and have changed many of the basic tenants of our laws. Add to this, the ruinous cost of our campaigns in the east; surely you must understand some of the people’s plight?”“I’m not agreeing to any of this,” the Emperor growled.“Augustus, please. There is wisdom in giving a little to gain a lot.”Theodora snorted. “Explain to me the wisdom of completely folding over?”They continued in this vein for the rest of the time they had, arguing back and forth until we left for the Hippodrome. Hypatius accompanied us through the halls of the Imperial Palace, one of several that had been invited to watch that afternoon’s races in the presence of the Emperor.The stadium was full when we arrived, the crowd a roiling mass of anger. They roared when Justinian stepped into view, drunk on wine and the victories they’d already had against the city.The Emperor called for quiet, biding them to let him answer their resentments. It was several long minutes before the mob was still enough for his voice to be heard. He began his speech, and on the sands, the first of the charioteers emerged.Theodora had not yet taken her seat, remaining back by Helena and me while her husband spoke. There were a dozen or so Excubitors in the box as well, there to make sure no harm came to the Imperial family and their guests.Hypatius approached while Justinian was halfway through his prepared words.“The Emperor is wise to give into these demands.”The Empress didn’t let any of her anger show. She’d argued hard against any sort of concession. “There are some things that he will not bend on. No matter how much of your wisdom that you share.”The senator’s eyes moved about, making sure that none but we were within earshot. Disdain flooded his tone.“You mean the repeal of your laws?” He smirked. “I fear that it is only a matter of time, Empress.”“Victory is an ugly color on you, Hypatius. But it is a bit premature, is it not?”“Premature?” The senator swept his arm out. “Look at this. The people cry for change! Will you really try to keep forcing your unwanted beliefs onto so many who want nothing of them?”“Unwanted?” The Empress said. “The elevation of women is good for the Empire as a whole, senator. Are we too, not God’s creatures.”“Of course, though none other possess such delusions of grandeur.”The Empress snorted. “Only those born to privilege see equality as a loss.”“A privilege,” Hypatius said, “that was granted to us by God. And how wise a decision it was. Did a woman’s choice not already cost us the paradise of Eden?”“Ah, of course,” Theodora said. “That old tale. What a stupid girl she was, to listen to the serpent and hide her naked perfection. As if clothing herself against a man’s crawling eyes could ever bring some sort of comfort.”“A wholly false interpretation.” The senator sneered. “But I suppose that we should trust a whore’s mind to see lust as the root of all things.”I tensed, my anger flaring. I made to step forward, but the Empress flicked her open palm towards me.“I was a whore, senator,” she said. “And so, you may trust me when I say that it wasn’t women that came to me with minds full of lust.”“As you well know,” Hypatius said, face reddening. “Eve’s sin was disobedience; her refusal to submit herself to man and God. A sin which you seek to drive us back into.”“Was it not God who made me Empress?” Theodora said. “It is by His divine authority I rule.”“Your authority,” he spat, “comes from trapping a powerful enough man between your legs. You would determine the course of our Empire through the ungodly use of your sex!”“Does my husband’s love and respect for me somehow cloud his mind?”“Love,” he said. “Or is it your flesh that you use to steer him towards your ends?”“My husband is no slave to his desires, Hypatius. Great men do not possess the flaws of the majority.”Hypatius’ eyes flashed, but the Empress wasn’t finished.“And surely, senator, a man like you can come up with something other than the same fearful lamentations? God has granted gifts to all his creations. Is it not the most pathetic sort of weakness; that the man who lords over his family with the strength of his arm, suddenly cries sin when his own base lust is used against him?”“Our laws are clear,” Hypatius said through gritted teeth. “Do not expect us to sit quietly by as you trample over nature and tradition.”“Ah, so it is 'us’ now?” Theodora said. “How easy you speak of disobedience when it is the sin of another. Your Emperor, the one who you have sworn to obey as your master, has commanded that you cease this insurrection.”The Empress’ expression was hard, looking down towards the senator from an eagle’s height. “Do you too, as Eve once did, refuse to submit yourself?”Hypatius didn’t respond, glaring at the Empress with barely-held fury. But she wasn’t finished speaking, leaning forward.“You cannot see past your own failings. You’re weak, and your insecurities disgust me. Men like you make us out to be frail, simple creatures that are good for nothing more than venting your lust and bearing your children. Your fragile egos cannot bear the thought that a woman might, in truth, be a stronger, more intelligent, more capable being than you will ever be.”The Empress moved towards him; the deadly grace of the raptor’s dive. Her words, filled with the eagle’s unshakable pride, pinned him like talons.“But I will liberate us. I will show all of you what a woman can really be.”She reached out to run a finger along Hypatius’ jaw. He flinched back at the sudden contact, looking away from the Empress’ languid smile.“And be sure,” she purred, her silken chest so near to his. “That I will use every weapon in my arsenal.”“Vile woman,” he hissed. His face blazed. “You don’t know what’s coming, you stupid whore. I’ll,”The mob’s rising roar swallowed his next words. I turned in time to see the crowd flooding onto the sands of the Hippodrome.”Nika! Nika! “They crashed against the palace walls; swords and axes and pitchforks flashing in the summer sun. The Emperor shouted, but the mob didn’t hear. They pounded against the walls, flames rising from where men held torches to the stadium’s wooden stands.The Hippodrome was burning, smoke rising with the thunder of the crowd’s battle cry.”Nika! Nika! Nika! Nika! “We were under siege. And when I looked back towards the Empress, Hypatius was gone.Act 3An Empress besieged."Have you ever been under siege, my Leontius?”I turned at the sound of the Empress’ voice, stiffening into a salute. “Augusta! ”She rolled her eyes. “And a good morning to you too. Has three days of confinement truly done nothing to ease your sense of property?”“That’s like asking whether the sight of the sun makes the fish want to fly,” Helena called from where she stood by the door.“Oh?” Theodora said. “And what does this fish have in common with our Leontius?”Helena grinned. “Neither of them can actually comprehend the question.”The Empress laughed, and I leveled my best glare toward my shield mate. This, of course, had the unfortunate result of drawing laughter from her as well.“We’re under siege,” I reminded both women.The Empress came to stand beside me at the window. She lay a warm palm against my forearm and gazed out.Beneath us, Constantinople burned.The sky was choked with a haze of smoke and ash. The mid-morning sun appeared dark, hanging there like a disk of smudged bronze. The fog was noxious, cloying; it blocked the sun’s light though it did nothing to shield us from the summer heat. Rather, it seemed to trap it like some great oven; magnifying it so that the already thick air turned positively suffocating.“So much destruction,” she said. Her palm flexed on my forearm. “The labor of decades and centuries gone, just like that.”“Augusta." Then, after a moment’s hesitation, I added. "I caught a few glimpses through the smoke. It looks like there’s a lot less damage further out.”She squeezed my arm, smiling without feeling. “I suppose that makes sense. It’s not their own homes they wish to burn, after all.”I followed the Empress’ gaze as she took in the shattered villas, pavilions, and monuments that now surrounded the Imperial Palace. Many of the ruins still smoldered, adding the stench of their own unique blend of char to the air.The Praetorium, the military headquarters of the Empire, had been gutted. A centuries-old courthouse had been torn down; its statues shattered. And in the distance, where great Hagia Sofia had once stood, there was nothing more than an empty patch of sky.Theodora stared at that empty place for several long moments, eventually pulling the heavy golden cross out from between her breasts to press it against her lips.Last was the Hippodrome. We could see the edge of it from the Empress’ window. And though its venerable stones were scarred by fire and rage, it still rose high above the city. It was at once a reassuring reminder of the Empire’s might and the cradle from which its destruction might have been birthed.“You never answered my question,” the Empress said.“Augusta?”Theodora smiled. “Have you ever been besieged?”“Your pardon, Augusta,” I said, flushing. “No, I was never garrisoned along the border. I’ve only ever been on the attacking side.”“Hmm,” she said. “And what do you think our chances are here?”“They’re good, Augusta. In a lot of ways, it’s harder to sit around outside the walls than within. It takes a lot of will, discipline, and organization to properly besiege a fortress.”“Things that you don’t believe our citizens have?”I shrugged. “They’re focused now, Augusta. But that becomes more difficult as days become weeks.”“Hmm,” she said. “Perhaps.”We could see them from up here; the mob. They swirled through the streets below, stained with soot and fueled by wine and victory. They were not so much an organized force as a writhing mass of blue and green with iron in their hands and cries of war on their lips.Nika! Nika! Nika!I could hear them now, the crowd pulsing with their chant of conquest and fury. They were swirling about the Hippodrome’s entrance, keeping clear, as of yet, of the palace’s walls. They seemed to be going into the arena, funneling into the still-smoking interior.“It’s hard to believe,” the Empress said. “That so few of my husband’s guards can keep out so many.”“Three hundred Excubitors is not so small a number, Augusta, when put behind strong walls.”“Neither are those extra few hundred that Belisarius called in, I suppose.” She squeezed my arm one more time before letting go. “I shall defer to your judgment then, my Leontius. Now, trapped nobles and dignitaries will soon begin to pester my husband. Before I go to help him, however, I wish to see what the
Dissension in the capitolBased on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.“My guards were out in the city last night,” the Empress said. “They can confirm some of the captain’s reports. There is real wealth, real organization behind some of these dissenters.”“Traitors,” Belisarius growled. The dark-haired general’s cheeks were red with anger. “Augustus, let me bring my legions into the city. I can have the worst of the factions hanged by sunset.”The Emperor, Justinian, massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to let stratiotai loose in my own capital, Bel. The people aren’t our enemy.”“They’re burning the city down around us!”“Captain,” Theodora said before her husband could speak. She addressed the nervous-looking commander of the city guard. “We’ve had riots before. Why haven’t you been able to keep the peace these past few days?”The guardsman bowed low. “Your pardon, Augusta. I have few men under my command, and the Blues and Greens are well entrenched in most parts of the city. In the past, they’ve done a lot of the work in keeping their own neighborhoods orderly. Now, however,” He trailed off into a grimace."Now, they’re the bastards doing all the damage,” Antonina said from where she sat beside her husband.Belisarius’ wife had swept her blonde hair back from her face, sifting through a stack of reports on the table in front of her. Antonina accompanied the general nearly every time he went out on campaign. She was well used to helping him untangle the mess of paperwork that taking any sort of decision inevitably produced.“You cannot control the city, then?” The Empress said.“Forgive me, Augusta, but I cannot. Not on my own. I’ve lost dozens already in the attempt.”“Then let me bring in the legions,” Belisarius said, his fist slamming against the table. “We’re letting the mob run us over!”“Enough!” The Emperor snapped. “I am not slaughtering hundreds because a few nobles are stirring up discontent! We are an Empire of laws, and I will not taint our efforts with the senseless spilling of blood.”The two men glared at each other. They were men of power, both used to getting their own way. But of course, only one was Emperor.Belisarius looked away. “Of course, Augustus.”The Empress let out a breath. She dismissed the captain with a few words of thanks, before going to her husband. She leaned into him from behind his chair, wrapping her arms around his chest.Justinian slumped back. “The Blues and the Greens; why did my damned predecessors have to cede so much to them?”Theodora kissed him on the cheek. “We always knew that curtailing them would be difficult, love. Don’t lose sight of what we are trying to accomplish.”The Emperor breathed deeply of his wife’s scent, leaning into her touch. He let out a long sigh and straightened.“Okay. They want me to pardon the escaped prisoners, right? Will satisfy them?”“Seems like the minimum,” Antonina said, fanning her summer-reddened face. “They’ve already escaped, so what’s the harm?”“The harm,” Belisarius said. “Is that they were condemned to die.”“Bel is right, my love,” the Empress said. “You spoke of upholding our laws; what message does it send to those watching us for weakness if we capitulate on this now?”I shifted in my place against one of the walls. Helena and I were the only other ones in the room now, our post only a protective lunge from the Empress’ seat.They had been at this for an hour and more, a series of officials, titled aristocrats and soldiers streaming in and out of the Emperor’s office. They’d been summoned to give their official opinions, testimonies, and reports; the mass of information intended to aid the Emperor in handling the developing crisis.Or not handling it, as seemed to be the case.I turned away, looking towards the open window. Outside, the sun was high in the sky. I could see the sloping roofs of the Hagia Sofia and the Patriarch’s residence. The city stretched beyond, baking in the afternoon heat.The scorching summer temperature, not at all helped by the pall of smoke that hung over the capital’s streets.The planned chariot races were due to begin soon, when there was a loud knock at the door. One of the Excubitors on duty poked his head in.“Senator Hypatius is here, Augustus,” the man said.“What?” The Emperor responded. “This is a closed meeting. Send him away.”The guard hesitated. “Of course, sire. He says that he’s come from the city, however. And that he holds a list of the people’s demands.Justinian and his wife exchanged a glance. "Very well. Send him in.”“You Imperial Majesties,” the senator said, sweeping his robes out in a deep bow. “Thank you for seeing me.”“Out with it, Hypatius,” Belisarius growled. “We don’t have time for your pretty words.”“Of course, general,” the senator said. He approached after a nod from the Emperor, pulling a roll of parchment from somewhere on his person. “I’ll speak plainly. Representatives from the Blues and Greens approached me earlier today. We sat down together to speak of their grievances. This is the result of that meeting.”He set the parchment down. The Emperor, Belisarius, and Antonina set upon it like wolves; ripping it open and devouring its content. The Empress, however, watched the senator.“You’re uninterested in the people’s demands, Augusta?” Hypatius asked.“I have a good idea as to what they are already, senator,” she said. “I’m more interested in what role you play in all this.”The man smoothed his robes. “That of simple messenger, Augusta.”“But why you?” She said. “And who were these ‘representatives’ you met with.”Hypatius shrugged. “I’m not sure. But I’ve worked hard to cultivate a reputation as a fair man who is much agreeable to reason. So, perhaps it is for that.”“Indeed,” the Empress said. “It must be your, reputation.”The senator bristled, but the Emperor chose that moment to speak. “This is absurd! The dismissal of my prefect, John, and of my quaestor? The full pardon of the prisoners and the repeal of my new laws?”“Not every single one of your new laws, Augustus,” Hypatius said, smoothly. “I believe those changes most desired are spelled out.”“No,” the Emperor said. “Not all. Mainly those towards women and the change in the aristocracy’s share of tax.”“The people are aggrieved, your Majesty,” Hypatius said. “You’ve stripped the Blues and Greens of power and have changed many of the basic tenants of our laws. Add to this, the ruinous cost of our campaigns in the east; surely you must understand some of the people’s plight?”“I’m not agreeing to any of this,” the Emperor growled.“Augustus, please. There is wisdom in giving a little to gain a lot.”Theodora snorted. “Explain to me the wisdom of completely folding over?”They continued in this vein for the rest of the time they had, arguing back and forth until we left for the Hippodrome. Hypatius accompanied us through the halls of the Imperial Palace, one of several that had been invited to watch that afternoon’s races in the presence of the Emperor.The stadium was full when we arrived, the crowd a roiling mass of anger. They roared when Justinian stepped into view, drunk on wine and the victories they’d already had against the city.The Emperor called for quiet, biding them to let him answer their resentments. It was several long minutes before the mob was still enough for his voice to be heard. He began his speech, and on the sands, the first of the charioteers emerged.Theodora had not yet taken her seat, remaining back by Helena and me while her husband spoke. There were a dozen or so Excubitors in the box as well, there to make sure no harm came to the Imperial family and their guests.Hypatius approached while Justinian was halfway through his prepared words.“The Emperor is wise to give into these demands.”The Empress didn’t let any of her anger show. She’d argued hard against any sort of concession. “There are some things that he will not bend on. No matter how much of your wisdom that you share.”The senator’s eyes moved about, making sure that none but we were within earshot. Disdain flooded his tone.“You mean the repeal of your laws?” He smirked. “I fear that it is only a matter of time, Empress.”“Victory is an ugly color on you, Hypatius. But it is a bit premature, is it not?”“Premature?” The senator swept his arm out. “Look at this. The people cry for change! Will you really try to keep forcing your unwanted beliefs onto so many who want nothing of them?”“Unwanted?” The Empress said. “The elevation of women is good for the Empire as a whole, senator. Are we too, not God’s creatures.”“Of course, though none other possess such delusions of grandeur.”The Empress snorted. “Only those born to privilege see equality as a loss.”“A privilege,” Hypatius said, “that was granted to us by God. And how wise a decision it was. Did a woman’s choice not already cost us the paradise of Eden?”“Ah, of course,” Theodora said. “That old tale. What a stupid girl she was, to listen to the serpent and hide her naked perfection. As if clothing herself against a man’s crawling eyes could ever bring some sort of comfort.”“A wholly false interpretation.” The senator sneered. “But I suppose that we should trust a whore’s mind to see lust as the root of all things.”I tensed, my anger flaring. I made to step forward, but the Empress flicked her open palm towards me.“I was a whore, senator,” she said. “And so, you may trust me when I say that it wasn’t women that came to me with minds full of lust.”“As you well know,” Hypatius said, face reddening. “Eve’s sin was disobedience; her refusal to submit herself to man and God. A sin which you seek to drive us back into.”“Was it not God who made me Empress?” Theodora said. “It is by His divine authority I rule.”“Your authority,” he spat, “comes from trapping a powerful enough man between your legs. You would determine the course of our Empire through the ungodly use of your sex!”“Does my husband’s love and respect for me somehow cloud his mind?”“Love,” he said. “Or is it your flesh that you use to steer him towards your ends?”“My husband is no slave to his desires, Hypatius. Great men do not possess the flaws of the majority.”Hypatius’ eyes flashed, but the Empress wasn’t finished.“And surely, senator, a man like you can come up with something other than the same fearful lamentations? God has granted gifts to all his creations. Is it not the most pathetic sort of weakness; that the man who lords over his family with the strength of his arm, suddenly cries sin when his own base lust is used against him?”“Our laws are clear,” Hypatius said through gritted teeth. “Do not expect us to sit quietly by as you trample over nature and tradition.”“Ah, so it is 'us’ now?” Theodora said. “How easy you speak of disobedience when it is the sin of another. Your Emperor, the one who you have sworn to obey as your master, has commanded that you cease this insurrection.”The Empress’ expression was hard, looking down towards the senator from an eagle’s height. “Do you too, as Eve once did, refuse to submit yourself?”Hypatius didn’t respond, glaring at the Empress with barely-held fury. But she wasn’t finished speaking, leaning forward.“You cannot see past your own failings. You’re weak, and your insecurities disgust me. Men like you make us out to be frail, simple creatures that are good for nothing more than venting your lust and bearing your children. Your fragile egos cannot bear the thought that a woman might, in truth, be a stronger, more intelligent, more capable being than you will ever be.”The Empress moved towards him; the deadly grace of the raptor’s dive. Her words, filled with the eagle’s unshakable pride, pinned him like talons.“But I will liberate us. I will show all of you what a woman can really be.”She reached out to run a finger along Hypatius’ jaw. He flinched back at the sudden contact, looking away from the Empress’ languid smile.“And be sure,” she purred, her silken chest so near to his. “That I will use every weapon in my arsenal.”“Vile woman,” he hissed. His face blazed. “You don’t know what’s coming, you stupid whore. I’ll,”The mob’s rising roar swallowed his next words. I turned in time to see the crowd flooding onto the sands of the Hippodrome.”Nika! Nika! “They crashed against the palace walls; swords and axes and pitchforks flashing in the summer sun. The Emperor shouted, but the mob didn’t hear. They pounded against the walls, flames rising from where men held torches to the stadium’s wooden stands.The Hippodrome was burning, smoke rising with the thunder of the crowd’s battle cry.”Nika! Nika! Nika! Nika! “We were under siege. And when I looked back towards the Empress, Hypatius was gone.Act 3An Empress besieged."Have you ever been under siege, my Leontius?”I turned at the sound of the Empress’ voice, stiffening into a salute. “Augusta! ”She rolled her eyes. “And a good morning to you too. Has three days of confinement truly done nothing to ease your sense of property?”“That’s like asking whether the sight of the sun makes the fish want to fly,” Helena called from where she stood by the door.“Oh?” Theodora said. “And what does this fish have in common with our Leontius?”Helena grinned. “Neither of them can actually comprehend the question.”The Empress laughed, and I leveled my best glare toward my shield mate. This, of course, had the unfortunate result of drawing laughter from her as well.“We’re under siege,” I reminded both women.The Empress came to stand beside me at the window. She lay a warm palm against my forearm and gazed out.Beneath us, Constantinople burned.The sky was choked with a haze of smoke and ash. The mid-morning sun appeared dark, hanging there like a disk of smudged bronze. The fog was noxious, cloying; it blocked the sun’s light though it did nothing to shield us from the summer heat. Rather, it seemed to trap it like some great oven; magnifying it so that the already thick air turned positively suffocating.“So much destruction,” she said. Her palm flexed on my forearm. “The labor of decades and centuries gone, just like that.”“Augusta." Then, after a moment’s hesitation, I added. "I caught a few glimpses through the smoke. It looks like there’s a lot less damage further out.”She squeezed my arm, smiling without feeling. “I suppose that makes sense. It’s not their own homes they wish to burn, after all.”I followed the Empress’ gaze as she took in the shattered villas, pavilions, and monuments that now surrounded the Imperial Palace. Many of the ruins still smoldered, adding the stench of their own unique blend of char to the air.The Praetorium, the military headquarters of the Empire, had been gutted. A centuries-old courthouse had been torn down; its statues shattered. And in the distance, where great Hagia Sofia had once stood, there was nothing more than an empty patch of sky.Theodora stared at that empty place for several long moments, eventually pulling the heavy golden cross out from between her breasts to press it against her lips.Last was the Hippodrome. We could see the edge of it from the Empress’ window. And though its venerable stones were scarred by fire and rage, it still rose high above the city. It was at once a reassuring reminder of the Empire’s might and the cradle from which its destruction might have been birthed.“You never answered my question,” the Empress said.“Augusta?”Theodora smiled. “Have you ever been besieged?”“Your pardon, Augusta,” I said, flushing. “No, I was never garrisoned along the border. I’ve only ever been on the attacking side.”“Hmm,” she said. “And what do you think our chances are here?”“They’re good, Augusta. In a lot of ways, it’s harder to sit around outside the walls than within. It takes a lot of will, discipline, and organization to properly besiege a fortress.”“Things that you don’t believe our citizens have?”I shrugged. “They’re focused now, Augusta. But that becomes more difficult as days become weeks.”“Hmm,” she said. “Perhaps.”We could see them from up here; the mob. They swirled through the streets below, stained with soot and fueled by wine and victory. They were not so much an organized force as a writhing mass of blue and green with iron in their hands and cries of war on their lips.Nika! Nika! Nika!I could hear them now, the crowd pulsing with their chant of conquest and fury. They were swirling about the Hippodrome’s entrance, keeping clear, as of yet, of the palace’s walls. They seemed to be going into the arena, funneling into the still-smoking interior.“It’s hard to believe,” the Empress said. “That so few of my husband’s guards can keep out so many.”“Three hundred Excubitors is not so small a number, Augusta, when put behind strong walls.”“Neither are those extra few hundred that Belisarius called in, I suppose.” She squeezed my arm one more time before letting go. “I shall defer to your judgment then, my Leontius. Now, trapped nobles and dignitaries will soon begin to pester my husband. Before I go to help him, however, I wish to see what the
Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.The Empress knows.This place. Just when I thought that I was getting a handle on it; something would happen to knock me free of the base I’d anchored myself too.Antonina, wife of the Empire’s greatest general, had taken me with her mouth. She’d spit on her marriage vows; risking her future, happiness and respectability. And for what? A whim? A silly streak of competitiveness with her best friend?She was perverse. She should be ashamed, not strutting away with bared breasts and lips curled into a languid smile.I let out a breath. I shifted within the empty corridor; Antonina’s door still at my back. If she was wicked; who was I then, who felt no shame at my own part in the act we’d just committed? My mother’s voice, loud in the back of my head, certainly believed I should.Where was her little lion, she asked me, who’d once so diligently walked the path she’d laid out for him?I didn’t know. I looked down at my hands; the very same ones that had pushed a woman’s head down until she’d choked on my phallus. I thought they looked clean. Well, not clean, but cleaner. The old blood beneath my fingernails, the stuff that I could never seem to ever scrub off, was starting to flake away.They’d been getting cleaner since the day I’d first knelt before the Empress.The sound of footsteps made me raise my head. I felt my stomach clench. I stiffened to attention, flicking my eyes about the space to make sure that everything was in order. It wouldn’t do, for Belisarius to arrive to find me with my manhood out; my flesh still gleaming with his wife’s saliva.To my great relief; it wasn’t the general that appeared down the hallway, but the Empress and Helena. Theodora glided towards me, graceful as the dancer she’d never ceased to be. She smiled, the corners of her dark eyes wrinkling in the way they did.“Vigilant as always, my Leontius?”“Empress,” I answered, keeping my back straight.Without conscious thought, my eyes slid past the Empress’ shoulder. Helena was there. My eyes found hers, and I realized that I might not like what found there. It felt like there was a fist around my heart. Did she know? Did she know what I’d just done? I wondered, searching her smile.She did. And for a moment, I thought I might shatter.Helena knew, and the shifting green of her cypress eyes begged my forgiveness. She’d known what Antonina had wanted. She had failed to put herself between us. I saw relief in the folds of her face; a careful uncertainty in the shape of her smile.Something broke within me.She knew, and she was still here. She was glad to see me. I felt my throat squeeze itself shut. Of course, there was nothing to forgive, nothing worth dwelling on. My shield mate was here, and that was what mattered.“You’ve cared well for my dear Antonina, I trust?” The Empress said, pulling my attention back. Her smile had changed. There was an extra curve to it; a hint of knowing in her eyes that made me flush. Of course, I’d never have been able to hide this from her.“Yes, Empress.” The words came out hoarse. I cleared my throat. “She is safe within her chambers.”“Indeed,” Theodora answered. “Well, my Leontius, you had better let me in. ‘Nina tends to lose track of time when fabric is involved.”I nodded, reaching back to open the door. The Empress brushed past me, trailing her fingers along my outstretched arm. Helena moved to follow, but Theodora looked back as she stepped past the doorway.“Stay here, Helena. I won’t be long.”Helena hesitated a moment. Something seemed to flash between them, and she nodded, stepping back and letting me shut the door. She placed herself on the door’s other side, stiffening to attention, a mirror of the way I stood. She was beside me.I let out a breath, feeling the knot within me loosen.“You stink worse than before.”I choked on my exhalation. Helena’s laughed, the sound deepening as I started to splutter. I’d sucked a bunch of spit back into my throat. I hacked and coughed, my eyes watering. Beside me, Helena’s laugh deepened into that thrumming, full-bellied sound that made my stomach tingle.She was bent over, leaning her behind against the stone wall for support. She laughed, and even through a veil of my tears, I could see the way her eyes danced.“Not funny,” I croaked.She howled, tears starting to stream from her own eyes. “Stop,” she gasped between fits of laughter. “Stop.” I glared at her, and she wasn’t able to speak again for another minute.“Turn around,” she managed. “Please. Don’t look at me.”I grumbled, and spent another minute staring at nothing while she composed herself. “Are you done?” I asked, when I finally turned back around.“Yes,” she said, though another fit of laughter bubbled out of her. She cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m sorry.”I nodded, although I felt my own lip quirk into a small smile. “Why did you leave the box? Did we miss the race?”Helena shook her head. “It hasn’t started yet. You were gone a long time, and the Empress started to wonder. I think she wanted to catch you doing something,”She trailed off, and heat rushed back to my face. I looked away from Helena. There it was, I thought, the shame."Leo,” she said. “I’m sorry. I knew what she wanted. I tried, but I,”I shook my head. "Stop. Helena, please. You did what you could, and then, you fell back and did your duty. Just as any soldier should.”“Yes, but,” She bit off her own words. My eyes flicked back to her. She was chewing on her lip, concern still written large across her features. I couldn’t help but smile; feeling the final pieces of what had broken being washed away."It’s ok, Helena. It's not like I was fighting a battle, or anything.”She snorted. “With Antonina, it might as well be. She’s not known for being gentle.”I sighed. “Yeah, well, I hope that her husband is when he eventually rips my balls off. I have this theory that I might soon be the first man crucified in centuries.”She didn’t laugh, like I thought she would. Beneath her coppery curls, her expression remained worried.“Are you ok, Leo?”I looked back down to my hands for a moment; still a little cleaner than before. “I’m alright, Helena”“Was she that good, then?” She could tell I was telling the truth, and the words had emerged with an edge to them.“It's not that,” I said. “Although, yes, she was definitely good.”I met her eyes. Her face had hardened, and her cheeks were flushed. This time, she was the one to look away.“Well, don’t worry. You can go see her whenever you want.”“I don’t want to.” My eyes unfocused, looking into me while I tried to order my thoughts. “I don’t like that kind of, experience. There was nothing behind it. I don’t really know how to explain it.” I hesitated a moment before I continued. “It was like eating just because you’re hungry; taking no joy from the food. Sure, it fills you up, and sometimes that’s exactly what you need. But I don’t know. There can be so much more to something like that. And that’s what I want.”My eyes focused back on Helena. I smiled ruefully. “I don’t even know if I’m making any sense. Are you following this?”She nodded. Her cheeks were still red, but here was something else shifting in the swaying cypress of her eyes. My heart started to beat faster. A warmth rose through me; a much softer heat than from Antonina’s burning, draconic hunger.“It wasn’t that. It's that; I like it here.” I stood up straighter once the words had been said, as if they’d been a weight on my shoulders. “My life isn’t where it’s supposed to be, and I’m becoming something other than who I was. But I think that it's good. At least, some of it is. Being here with you, with the Empress; it's so different than anything I was ever supposed to know. But I think; I think that I’m actually starting to be happy; even though I maybe shouldn’t.”I hesitated, unable to gaze away from her. Her eyes were so soft. There was no hatred there, no disdain. Neither was there any of the cringing disgust that my mother’s voice assured me would be there. I saw none of that; only understanding.“Is that ok?” I asked.A breeze within her shifted the green of her eyes. It showed me something else; the edge of something vast that was growing within the depths of her. I didn’t know what it was, but it took my breath away.“Yes” she said. “I think it's alright.”She smiled, and that warmth spread all the way down to my toes. I opened my mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.We both started, as Antonina’s voice called from within. “Open the door! We’re ready.”I grumbled, and turned to push the door open. Helena turned away as well, hiding what remained of her smile.Antonina swayed out of the room. She’d changed into a short, ivory colored dress that ended right below the knees. It was looser than the other one had been, though her chest still threatened to erupt from her neckline. My eyes briefly touched on that golden chain; resisting the urge to follow the links down to where they disappeared within the shape of her.“Thank you, solider,” Antonina said.Her lips curled at the sight of me. She’d re-arranged her hair, had wiped her face and breasts clean. She’d washed away all evidence of our, encounter; save for the slight redness that still glowed beneath her milky flesh.She caught sight of Helena a heartbeat later, and her expression soured.“Antonina,” Helena said, inclining her head.“I see that you’ve managed to keep from disemboweling yourself with that sword of yours,” she said. “I’m impressed, I admit.”“There’s a long history of women skilled in the use of weapons,” Helena said. “Your talent with the; spear, for example.”The blonde woman’s eyes flashed. “Indeed, it is a worthy weapon. I enjoy the use of it. You would be better with that, I think.”“Perhaps. Though, is it not dangerous? I hear that you are often, ahem, skewered while you spar.”Antonina surprised me by barking out a laugh. “You seem to have found your teeth again, little 'Lena. Come, you can escort me back.”Helena nodded, flashing me a quick look before she followed behind Antonina. I didn’t move, staring after them in shock. I didn’t know what the hell had just happened.“Those two have known each other a long time,” I heard the Empress say. “Their friendship has always been a little, contentious.”I turned to find the Empress standing within the doorway that I still held open. She smiled when my eyes found hers. She lay a hand on my outstretched arm.“Would you escort me back, my Leontius?”“Of course, Empress,” I answered.I let the door close behind her, raising my arm slightly so she could hold onto it as we walked. She raised an eyebrow.“A week ago, you would have frozen at my touch.”“Yes, Empress.”“I like this change in you.”We started walking, trailing a ways behind where Antonina and Helena still exchanged cutting remarks. Something seemed to have come over Helena, some new confidence that didn’t let her simply fade into the background.The Empress’ arm shifted to loop around mine, gripping my bicep. Her skin was warm on my own.“I worry about her sometimes,” Theodora said.“Empress?”“Helena. I believe that she enjoys this life, at least, some aspects of it. Though, it has never been what she’s really wanted. It was hard for her, before.”Her eyes were on the pair a head of us. She didn’t speak again, however, until they had rounded a corner, out of sight. “In a way, of the three of us, Helena was the strongest. Though, her strength could be almost brittle. She’s stubborn. And there were times when that rigidity cost her. Although, perhaps that is changing as well.”“Empress?” I asked again, confused.She laughed softly. “Don’t mind me, Leontius. I like to let my thoughts air from time to time.” We walked in silence for a few more steps before she added. “She likes honeyed figs, you know. And honeyed olives. Anything with honey really, but the figs are her favorite.”I was running out of ways to express my confusion. So, I just remained silent. I was surprised further, when the Empress pulled me into a stop. I glanced down at her, in time to watch her lean into me.She pressed her breasts into my arm. I felt the cool smoothness of her dress, tight as my limb slipped into the space of her chest. My eyes widened; frozen as I hadn’t been in the hours before. Her lips parted, and she used me to pull herself up until her breath tickled my ear. Gooseflesh erupted over my neck.“Don’t you forget, my soldier,” Theodora murmured. “I will have my taste. 'Nina has told me too much of it for me to give it up now.”I shivered.She made a small, pleased sound in her throat. She pressed her lips against my cheek, and for a moment, I breathed in the sweetness of her breath.The smile didn’t leave her lips until we reached the Imperial Box.Chariots race for the Empress.The race begins! Our Leontius returns to the Hippodrome in time for the hotly anticipated chariot race.The Grand Hippodrome; a monument of pale stone, adorned with golden statues. It was at the center of Constantinople. At the heart of an Empire whose borders had once stretched to the very end of the world.The Empress and I emerged from the palace and into the Imperial Box. We stopped, her grip loose on my arm. Together, we watched as four charioteers come out onto the sands below us.Byzantine chariots were small, just large enough for a single man to stand within. They were light; an open basket of wood that was designed for speed rather than war. And pulled as it was by four, well-fed young horses, that speed could be terrifying.The charioteers began a slow lap of the track; holding their arms out to the crowd and the summer sun. The mob roared; the sound hitting me like a spear to the guts.There would be near a dozen races today. The Blues, Greens and various other factions of wealthy men and women had sponsored dozens of charioteers and their teams. It would be a day of food, drink and excitement. Though, it was this first race that was the most anticipated.The mob was screaming, pounding on drums and waving strips of blue or green cloth into the air. They made a field and sky; the line where they met, as sharp as any horizon.Their champions had taken to the sands.Maleinos and Velanis; elite charioteers and the veterans of a hundred races. Maleinos, his hair streaked with gray, waved towards where the Blue supporters chanted his name. Velanis, a younger man with an easy smile, did the same for the Greens. Both of their chariots were painted in the colors of their factions. Meleinos even led a team of horses so dark they appeared almost blue in the light of the summer sun.I didn’t recognize the other two men; their chariots painted in colors who’s meaning I did not know. They did not appear intimidated by the Hippodrome’s crowds; experienced racers, then.“Nika!" I heard voices bellow. "Nika!”The word was on the edge of my hearing, nearly lost amidst the rest of the cacophony. But as the charioteers’ lap came to its halfway point, I heard it again. And then, again, growing louder and louder as more of the mob joined their voices to it.“Nika! Nika! Nika!”It was an old word; a call to unify. It meant victory; it meant winning before your rivals. But its meaning was older. It had been used by armies once; a word hammered on by generals in their speeches. The legions had loved that word; had once chanted it to the rhythm of their crashing feet.For nika, was to conquer.The Empress’ grip shifted. She pulled herself up my arm, shouting into my ear. I was to bring her to her seat. We moved down towards the front of the box; senators, bishops and merchant lords scattering from our path. She smiled her thanks, lowering herself down between her husband and Antonina.I returned to my post beside Helena. The charioteers were coming to the end of their slow lap. The crowd’s thunder intensified.“Nika!" They chanted, ripping the air with their flags. "Nika! Nika!”It was like the rhythmic hammer of the surf. Wave after wave; a rolling storm of frenzied excitement. I felt myself caught up in the roar of that human ocean; a rip-tide dragging me inexorably into its depths. There was a current there; down beneath that roiling sea.I could see its might; watched how it pulled and shaped. Waves gathered; crashing and swirling into each other. The ocean ebbed and flowed. It seethed and boiled; raged and calm. It was chaos, unless one saw the tide that ran beneath it all.And like the sea that surrounded my island home; I wondered what would happen here, if that tide ever rose. Would we float away? Or would it drown us all.I shook myself, pulling my thoughts back from where they’d wandered. I forced some steel into my spine. I’d been to the races before; I knew what the crowds of the Grand Hippodrome were. Though, admittedly, before I’d been just another drop in that ocean. Now,I snuck a glance towards Helena. She stood to attention; alert, though comfortable beneath the shade of the sheltering awning. I remembered our conversation; the flicker of that vastness I’d seen at the center of her.Honeyed figs? I thought, feeling a curl of that earlier warmth within me.Below us, the charioteers were lining up to begin the race. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Maleinos of the Blues wrapping the reins of his horses around both forearms, his body taut. Velanis of the Greens did the same, though he was loose enough to keep bobbing his head towards the crowd.Sensing my gaze, Helena tilted her head towards me. She arched an eyebrow. I smiled suddenly, the crowd still roared too loudly to speak, so I mouthed the words.'Seven nummi on the Green.’Helena’s eyes glittered, and I arched my eyebrow in a silent question. Seven nummi was the daily wage of a soldier in the Empire’s legions. Those small bronze coins used to buy what comforts could be found
Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.The Empress knows.This place. Just when I thought that I was getting a handle on it; something would happen to knock me free of the base I’d anchored myself too.Antonina, wife of the Empire’s greatest general, had taken me with her mouth. She’d spit on her marriage vows; risking her future, happiness and respectability. And for what? A whim? A silly streak of competitiveness with her best friend?She was perverse. She should be ashamed, not strutting away with bared breasts and lips curled into a languid smile.I let out a breath. I shifted within the empty corridor; Antonina’s door still at my back. If she was wicked; who was I then, who felt no shame at my own part in the act we’d just committed? My mother’s voice, loud in the back of my head, certainly believed I should.Where was her little lion, she asked me, who’d once so diligently walked the path she’d laid out for him?I didn’t know. I looked down at my hands; the very same ones that had pushed a woman’s head down until she’d choked on my phallus. I thought they looked clean. Well, not clean, but cleaner. The old blood beneath my fingernails, the stuff that I could never seem to ever scrub off, was starting to flake away.They’d been getting cleaner since the day I’d first knelt before the Empress.The sound of footsteps made me raise my head. I felt my stomach clench. I stiffened to attention, flicking my eyes about the space to make sure that everything was in order. It wouldn’t do, for Belisarius to arrive to find me with my manhood out; my flesh still gleaming with his wife’s saliva.To my great relief; it wasn’t the general that appeared down the hallway, but the Empress and Helena. Theodora glided towards me, graceful as the dancer she’d never ceased to be. She smiled, the corners of her dark eyes wrinkling in the way they did.“Vigilant as always, my Leontius?”“Empress,” I answered, keeping my back straight.Without conscious thought, my eyes slid past the Empress’ shoulder. Helena was there. My eyes found hers, and I realized that I might not like what found there. It felt like there was a fist around my heart. Did she know? Did she know what I’d just done? I wondered, searching her smile.She did. And for a moment, I thought I might shatter.Helena knew, and the shifting green of her cypress eyes begged my forgiveness. She’d known what Antonina had wanted. She had failed to put herself between us. I saw relief in the folds of her face; a careful uncertainty in the shape of her smile.Something broke within me.She knew, and she was still here. She was glad to see me. I felt my throat squeeze itself shut. Of course, there was nothing to forgive, nothing worth dwelling on. My shield mate was here, and that was what mattered.“You’ve cared well for my dear Antonina, I trust?” The Empress said, pulling my attention back. Her smile had changed. There was an extra curve to it; a hint of knowing in her eyes that made me flush. Of course, I’d never have been able to hide this from her.“Yes, Empress.” The words came out hoarse. I cleared my throat. “She is safe within her chambers.”“Indeed,” Theodora answered. “Well, my Leontius, you had better let me in. ‘Nina tends to lose track of time when fabric is involved.”I nodded, reaching back to open the door. The Empress brushed past me, trailing her fingers along my outstretched arm. Helena moved to follow, but Theodora looked back as she stepped past the doorway.“Stay here, Helena. I won’t be long.”Helena hesitated a moment. Something seemed to flash between them, and she nodded, stepping back and letting me shut the door. She placed herself on the door’s other side, stiffening to attention, a mirror of the way I stood. She was beside me.I let out a breath, feeling the knot within me loosen.“You stink worse than before.”I choked on my exhalation. Helena’s laughed, the sound deepening as I started to splutter. I’d sucked a bunch of spit back into my throat. I hacked and coughed, my eyes watering. Beside me, Helena’s laugh deepened into that thrumming, full-bellied sound that made my stomach tingle.She was bent over, leaning her behind against the stone wall for support. She laughed, and even through a veil of my tears, I could see the way her eyes danced.“Not funny,” I croaked.She howled, tears starting to stream from her own eyes. “Stop,” she gasped between fits of laughter. “Stop.” I glared at her, and she wasn’t able to speak again for another minute.“Turn around,” she managed. “Please. Don’t look at me.”I grumbled, and spent another minute staring at nothing while she composed herself. “Are you done?” I asked, when I finally turned back around.“Yes,” she said, though another fit of laughter bubbled out of her. She cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m sorry.”I nodded, although I felt my own lip quirk into a small smile. “Why did you leave the box? Did we miss the race?”Helena shook her head. “It hasn’t started yet. You were gone a long time, and the Empress started to wonder. I think she wanted to catch you doing something,”She trailed off, and heat rushed back to my face. I looked away from Helena. There it was, I thought, the shame."Leo,” she said. “I’m sorry. I knew what she wanted. I tried, but I,”I shook my head. "Stop. Helena, please. You did what you could, and then, you fell back and did your duty. Just as any soldier should.”“Yes, but,” She bit off her own words. My eyes flicked back to her. She was chewing on her lip, concern still written large across her features. I couldn’t help but smile; feeling the final pieces of what had broken being washed away."It’s ok, Helena. It's not like I was fighting a battle, or anything.”She snorted. “With Antonina, it might as well be. She’s not known for being gentle.”I sighed. “Yeah, well, I hope that her husband is when he eventually rips my balls off. I have this theory that I might soon be the first man crucified in centuries.”She didn’t laugh, like I thought she would. Beneath her coppery curls, her expression remained worried.“Are you ok, Leo?”I looked back down to my hands for a moment; still a little cleaner than before. “I’m alright, Helena”“Was she that good, then?” She could tell I was telling the truth, and the words had emerged with an edge to them.“It's not that,” I said. “Although, yes, she was definitely good.”I met her eyes. Her face had hardened, and her cheeks were flushed. This time, she was the one to look away.“Well, don’t worry. You can go see her whenever you want.”“I don’t want to.” My eyes unfocused, looking into me while I tried to order my thoughts. “I don’t like that kind of, experience. There was nothing behind it. I don’t really know how to explain it.” I hesitated a moment before I continued. “It was like eating just because you’re hungry; taking no joy from the food. Sure, it fills you up, and sometimes that’s exactly what you need. But I don’t know. There can be so much more to something like that. And that’s what I want.”My eyes focused back on Helena. I smiled ruefully. “I don’t even know if I’m making any sense. Are you following this?”She nodded. Her cheeks were still red, but here was something else shifting in the swaying cypress of her eyes. My heart started to beat faster. A warmth rose through me; a much softer heat than from Antonina’s burning, draconic hunger.“It wasn’t that. It's that; I like it here.” I stood up straighter once the words had been said, as if they’d been a weight on my shoulders. “My life isn’t where it’s supposed to be, and I’m becoming something other than who I was. But I think that it's good. At least, some of it is. Being here with you, with the Empress; it's so different than anything I was ever supposed to know. But I think; I think that I’m actually starting to be happy; even though I maybe shouldn’t.”I hesitated, unable to gaze away from her. Her eyes were so soft. There was no hatred there, no disdain. Neither was there any of the cringing disgust that my mother’s voice assured me would be there. I saw none of that; only understanding.“Is that ok?” I asked.A breeze within her shifted the green of her eyes. It showed me something else; the edge of something vast that was growing within the depths of her. I didn’t know what it was, but it took my breath away.“Yes” she said. “I think it's alright.”She smiled, and that warmth spread all the way down to my toes. I opened my mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.We both started, as Antonina’s voice called from within. “Open the door! We’re ready.”I grumbled, and turned to push the door open. Helena turned away as well, hiding what remained of her smile.Antonina swayed out of the room. She’d changed into a short, ivory colored dress that ended right below the knees. It was looser than the other one had been, though her chest still threatened to erupt from her neckline. My eyes briefly touched on that golden chain; resisting the urge to follow the links down to where they disappeared within the shape of her.“Thank you, solider,” Antonina said.Her lips curled at the sight of me. She’d re-arranged her hair, had wiped her face and breasts clean. She’d washed away all evidence of our, encounter; save for the slight redness that still glowed beneath her milky flesh.She caught sight of Helena a heartbeat later, and her expression soured.“Antonina,” Helena said, inclining her head.“I see that you’ve managed to keep from disemboweling yourself with that sword of yours,” she said. “I’m impressed, I admit.”“There’s a long history of women skilled in the use of weapons,” Helena said. “Your talent with the; spear, for example.”The blonde woman’s eyes flashed. “Indeed, it is a worthy weapon. I enjoy the use of it. You would be better with that, I think.”“Perhaps. Though, is it not dangerous? I hear that you are often, ahem, skewered while you spar.”Antonina surprised me by barking out a laugh. “You seem to have found your teeth again, little 'Lena. Come, you can escort me back.”Helena nodded, flashing me a quick look before she followed behind Antonina. I didn’t move, staring after them in shock. I didn’t know what the hell had just happened.“Those two have known each other a long time,” I heard the Empress say. “Their friendship has always been a little, contentious.”I turned to find the Empress standing within the doorway that I still held open. She smiled when my eyes found hers. She lay a hand on my outstretched arm.“Would you escort me back, my Leontius?”“Of course, Empress,” I answered.I let the door close behind her, raising my arm slightly so she could hold onto it as we walked. She raised an eyebrow.“A week ago, you would have frozen at my touch.”“Yes, Empress.”“I like this change in you.”We started walking, trailing a ways behind where Antonina and Helena still exchanged cutting remarks. Something seemed to have come over Helena, some new confidence that didn’t let her simply fade into the background.The Empress’ arm shifted to loop around mine, gripping my bicep. Her skin was warm on my own.“I worry about her sometimes,” Theodora said.“Empress?”“Helena. I believe that she enjoys this life, at least, some aspects of it. Though, it has never been what she’s really wanted. It was hard for her, before.”Her eyes were on the pair a head of us. She didn’t speak again, however, until they had rounded a corner, out of sight. “In a way, of the three of us, Helena was the strongest. Though, her strength could be almost brittle. She’s stubborn. And there were times when that rigidity cost her. Although, perhaps that is changing as well.”“Empress?” I asked again, confused.She laughed softly. “Don’t mind me, Leontius. I like to let my thoughts air from time to time.” We walked in silence for a few more steps before she added. “She likes honeyed figs, you know. And honeyed olives. Anything with honey really, but the figs are her favorite.”I was running out of ways to express my confusion. So, I just remained silent. I was surprised further, when the Empress pulled me into a stop. I glanced down at her, in time to watch her lean into me.She pressed her breasts into my arm. I felt the cool smoothness of her dress, tight as my limb slipped into the space of her chest. My eyes widened; frozen as I hadn’t been in the hours before. Her lips parted, and she used me to pull herself up until her breath tickled my ear. Gooseflesh erupted over my neck.“Don’t you forget, my soldier,” Theodora murmured. “I will have my taste. 'Nina has told me too much of it for me to give it up now.”I shivered.She made a small, pleased sound in her throat. She pressed her lips against my cheek, and for a moment, I breathed in the sweetness of her breath.The smile didn’t leave her lips until we reached the Imperial Box.Chariots race for the Empress.The race begins! Our Leontius returns to the Hippodrome in time for the hotly anticipated chariot race.The Grand Hippodrome; a monument of pale stone, adorned with golden statues. It was at the center of Constantinople. At the heart of an Empire whose borders had once stretched to the very end of the world.The Empress and I emerged from the palace and into the Imperial Box. We stopped, her grip loose on my arm. Together, we watched as four charioteers come out onto the sands below us.Byzantine chariots were small, just large enough for a single man to stand within. They were light; an open basket of wood that was designed for speed rather than war. And pulled as it was by four, well-fed young horses, that speed could be terrifying.The charioteers began a slow lap of the track; holding their arms out to the crowd and the summer sun. The mob roared; the sound hitting me like a spear to the guts.There would be near a dozen races today. The Blues, Greens and various other factions of wealthy men and women had sponsored dozens of charioteers and their teams. It would be a day of food, drink and excitement. Though, it was this first race that was the most anticipated.The mob was screaming, pounding on drums and waving strips of blue or green cloth into the air. They made a field and sky; the line where they met, as sharp as any horizon.Their champions had taken to the sands.Maleinos and Velanis; elite charioteers and the veterans of a hundred races. Maleinos, his hair streaked with gray, waved towards where the Blue supporters chanted his name. Velanis, a younger man with an easy smile, did the same for the Greens. Both of their chariots were painted in the colors of their factions. Meleinos even led a team of horses so dark they appeared almost blue in the light of the summer sun.I didn’t recognize the other two men; their chariots painted in colors who’s meaning I did not know. They did not appear intimidated by the Hippodrome’s crowds; experienced racers, then.“Nika!" I heard voices bellow. "Nika!”The word was on the edge of my hearing, nearly lost amidst the rest of the cacophony. But as the charioteers’ lap came to its halfway point, I heard it again. And then, again, growing louder and louder as more of the mob joined their voices to it.“Nika! Nika! Nika!”It was an old word; a call to unify. It meant victory; it meant winning before your rivals. But its meaning was older. It had been used by armies once; a word hammered on by generals in their speeches. The legions had loved that word; had once chanted it to the rhythm of their crashing feet.For nika, was to conquer.The Empress’ grip shifted. She pulled herself up my arm, shouting into my ear. I was to bring her to her seat. We moved down towards the front of the box; senators, bishops and merchant lords scattering from our path. She smiled her thanks, lowering herself down between her husband and Antonina.I returned to my post beside Helena. The charioteers were coming to the end of their slow lap. The crowd’s thunder intensified.“Nika!" They chanted, ripping the air with their flags. "Nika! Nika!”It was like the rhythmic hammer of the surf. Wave after wave; a rolling storm of frenzied excitement. I felt myself caught up in the roar of that human ocean; a rip-tide dragging me inexorably into its depths. There was a current there; down beneath that roiling sea.I could see its might; watched how it pulled and shaped. Waves gathered; crashing and swirling into each other. The ocean ebbed and flowed. It seethed and boiled; raged and calm. It was chaos, unless one saw the tide that ran beneath it all.And like the sea that surrounded my island home; I wondered what would happen here, if that tide ever rose. Would we float away? Or would it drown us all.I shook myself, pulling my thoughts back from where they’d wandered. I forced some steel into my spine. I’d been to the races before; I knew what the crowds of the Grand Hippodrome were. Though, admittedly, before I’d been just another drop in that ocean. Now,I snuck a glance towards Helena. She stood to attention; alert, though comfortable beneath the shade of the sheltering awning. I remembered our conversation; the flicker of that vastness I’d seen at the center of her.Honeyed figs? I thought, feeling a curl of that earlier warmth within me.Below us, the charioteers were lining up to begin the race. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Maleinos of the Blues wrapping the reins of his horses around both forearms, his body taut. Velanis of the Greens did the same, though he was loose enough to keep bobbing his head towards the crowd.Sensing my gaze, Helena tilted her head towards me. She arched an eyebrow. I smiled suddenly, the crowd still roared too loudly to speak, so I mouthed the words.'Seven nummi on the Green.’Helena’s eyes glittered, and I arched my eyebrow in a silent question. Seven nummi was the daily wage of a soldier in the Empire’s legions. Those small bronze coins used to buy what comforts could be found
Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.Theodora believed. Her faith ran deeply. It was not worn as some gesture of heretical mockery. That cross, like her body, were symbols of her devotion to God. She made love, shared herself with others as an act of worship. Her every moan, a prayer; her every cry, an exultation to her creator. The font between her legs, the sweetest sort of holy water.It was no sin to revel in what God had given her.“Ah, my soldier,” she panted, collapsing onto her hands. “You are a worthy distraction.”The Empress finished her bath not long after; taking a few minutes to scrub vigorously at her skin, her expression curled into one of satisfied contentment. We traveled with her back to her inner chambers, standing outside while an army of maids moved in to help her get dressed.I stood numbly at Helena’s side, my guts twisting around as if I’d taken a knife. I hated myself; both for what I’d done and what I hadn’t let myself do. She was my Empress, yet I couldn’t get the sight of her naked body out of head. Or, how I’d watched her impale herself again and again on that golden phallus; rivulets of her own moisture trickling down the shaft of it.“You surprised me again, you know,” Helena said into the silence.Her voice drew me back into the real world, letting me blink my thoughts clear. I tilting my head to find her eyes considering me.“In the baths,” she clarified. “Your restraint.”Right. She’d been there. She’d seen me, my nakedness, My cheeks suddenly, burned scarlet and I couldn’t meet her gaze.She laughed, a deep sound rich with textures, which somehow made me feel even more uncomfortable.“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ve seen many others, and been a lot closer to a fair bit of them. Although, yours was particularly nice,”She trailed off, her voice still on the edge of laughter."Restraint?” I managed to croak out, looking for a way out of this. “What restraint?”“You know what I mean,” Helena said. “The Empress practically begged you for more. Most men, and many women I’ve met wouldn’t have hesitated to jump in. But you didn’t, and I can’t really figure out why.”I let out a long breath, breathing back in through my nose. I caught the whiff of oiled-steel, and was talking before I really knew it.“Honestly? I don’t even know. She’s the Empress for God’s sake, not some camp follower. And besides, she’s married. I know the world is way different here but, I don’t know. It just felt wrong, I guess.”“I told you that neither she nor the Emperor care about that,” Helena said.“I know. But a good woman isn’t supposed to be like that.”“And just how is a good woman supposed to be?”It was a sign about how lost I was in my own confusion that I missed the flint in her voice and the sudden stiffness of her frame. I just kept talking, my eyes down onto my out-stretched hands.“I don’t know that anymore either. My mother always said that good, happy women were,” I let out another long breath and shook my head. "Not like this. Not so, I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter.”I back towards her with a shaky grin. “I guess all I do know is I shouldn’t be the one deciding any of this anyway.”Silence fell between us for a time. I listened to the commotion of the Empress’ preparations, keeping an eye on the empty hallway. It was Helena that eventually spoke again.“And what about me? Am I a good, proper woman?”“No,” I said, meeting the challenge in her gaze. I let my lip quirk into a wry smile. “But Helena, you might just be the sanest person here.”Her lips parted in a wide smile, and the deep green of her eyes brightened just a little. She laughed, and I felt an all-together different sort of warmth rise through me.Training with Helena.My little lion.Your letter has been an answer from God. I feared for you when I heard about the army’s defeat at the hands of those barbaric Persians. But God is good, and I knew that He would not let you fall to those heathens. I do not know when, or where this letter will find you, but just know that I love you and that your dedication to your career fills me with pride.I know too, that your father would say the same. What man wouldn’t? To see their son follow so closely in his own footsteps.I let out a breath, leaning back, away from my little desk. This was the last letter I’d received from my mother; the message waiting for me when I’d arrived in Constantinople back at the end of May. It was nearly September now.I’d put this off enough, I told myself. I had blank parchment, quill and inkpot. I had to write to her. I had to tell her that I was still alright; that I was in the capital. That I was working in the Imperial Palace.That I’d left the Legion.My head fell into my hands. I closed my eyes, and tried to will them open an instant later. I needed to do this. I needed to tell her. I was a soldier for God’s sake, I could write a letter to my own fucking mother.A minute passed, and then two. And then, luckily, there was a knock at my door before I could really start hating myself.I just about leapt from my desk, opening the door to find Helena standing there.“Morning!” She said with a wide smile. “You ready?”“Helena,” I said. “Ready? What, uh. I, for, ?”I trailed off unable to figure out what I’d actually wanted to say. Helena stood in my doorway without her armor, without much of anything really.Her neck and shoulders were bare; her warm bronze skin flowing down to the swell of her chest. The shape of it was hidden, however, lashed tight by a winding strip of cloth. Her stomach was naked, the muscles flexing with every breath she took.My eyes traveled down the tightness of her navel, to the loincloth wrapped snuggly around the curve of her hips. It was short, doing nothing more than swaddle the place where her legs flowed into each other. I followed the endless, sculpted smoothness of her legs down, tracing every swell and divot. I lingered for a time of the strip of cloth looped around one thigh, wondering at its arcane purpose before I arrived at her sandaled feet.“Like what you see?” I could hear the smirk in her voice, and I looked up to find her eyes alight beneath the free-falling curls of her copper hair.“Yes” I instantly replied, the words springing out of me without bothering to stop by my brain.She snorted, a faint flush of color creeping up her naked skin. “Come on, get out of that. We’re going for a run.”“A run, ?” My eyes flicked back down to the shape of her thighs. My mind finally seemed to judder back into motion, and heat seared up my body as I realized what I was doing.“A run!” I said, tearing my eyes away from her. “Yes. Sorry. Yes. I’ll be ready.”I still hadn’t moved, my eyes flailing about wildly for a place to rest. Helena laughed, and I took that as permission to settle back on her grinning face.“Sorry,” I said. “You, uh, took me by surprise.”“I can see that,” she said. “Now, take that off. We need to go before it gets too hot.”“Ah, right,” I said. “Give me a moment.”“Sure,” she said. “I’ll meet you down in the Hippodrome, then.”I nodded. She turned, moving away and giving me a view of her back. My eyes slid down the smooth arch of her spine until they reached the curved, firmness of her hips. Her loin-cloth was tight, looping around her waist and between her legs. It left much of her rounded behind visible, each hump jiggling faintly as she walked.I was mesmerized by the sway of her hips; of the rhythmic bouncing of her cheeks. Of the muscles shifting beneath the flesh of her naked thighs. But most of all, by the way her ass completely devoured the strip of cloth down its center.I heard her make a small sound, and looked up to find her peeking back at me from over one shoulder. I flushed, and saw her lips curl into another smile. She turned her attention forward once more, reaching down to that loop around her thigh and using it to tie back her hair.I swear, in the final few steps before she rounded the corner, the swing of her hips took on an extra snap.I stared after her for a while after she’d disappeared. I’d grown used to the sight of her in armor; the shape of her body masked by the protective steel. Women didn’t wear armor; and so, despite the beauty of her features, I’d somehow convinced myself that Helena wasn’t one.I wouldn’t forget that again. Not now that I had the sight of the swaying, curving femininity of her waist locked tightly in my mind. I knew that I would never forget that first glimpse of her. I’d carry it with me, along with the way her eyes had danced when she’d smiled.Grand HippodromeConstantinople’s Grand Hippodrome was one the great wonders of the world. It was huge, the U-shaped track built directly into the western wall of the Imperial Palace. From the Emperor’s box, Justinian, and the hundred thousand others that could squeeze themselves into the surrounding grandstands, could watch the thunder of the chariot races that were the center of life within the capital.The seats were empty now. Though I remembered well, when I’d jogged through at the end of my own race, the way the sands had shaken with each one of the crowd’s roars and cheers.Helena and I started to run after a few minutes of stretching. We ran the circuit of the charioteers, doing lap after lap around the low, obelisk framed wall that divided the track in two. She was a good runner, better than good. Her breathing was steady, her long legs devouring mile after mile of the sandy track.We ran in silence mostly; each of us focusing on the breath in our lungs, the sun on our naked backs and the sand beneath out feet. I quickly fell back into my old rhythm, my head emptying itself of everything but the run. Slowly, as one hour slipped past, and then two, I felt that calm settle deeper into me. My thoughts, my confusions and my doubts from the past couple of weeks; all of it started to clear. This was something I knew. Something that I was good at. I focused on that, anchoring myself to the joy of doing something I loved; in the company of someone who seemed to love it too.By the time we stopped, I actually felt like myself again.It was near midday when we stopped, guzzling water from a waiting barrel. In the hours since we’d arrived, a unit of Excubitors had started drilling nearby. They attacked wooden posts with heavy training swords; another group falling in and out of formation beneath the heavy batons of their officers.I watched them while we rested, noting a much heavier focus on marching and formation drills, rather than actual combat. It wasn’t what I was used to, but it would serve.“Let’s go train with them,” I said, speaking loudly over the shouts of the officers. “I haven’t practiced in weeks.”Helena, her skin flushed a healthy pink from the long run, didn’t meet my gaze. “Ah, you go. I’ll just run some more; I think.”I frowned. “Come on, we need the practice. Let’s get those guys at the posts to do some actual sparring.”She shook her head. “I can’t. Just go, Leo. I’ll do a few more laps before I go back in.”“Helena,” I said. “We’re the Empress’ Guard. We can train with them whether they like it or not.”Her face twisted. “Oh, they very much don’t like to train with a woman.”My frown deepened. “That doesn’t matter. You guard the Empress. They have to train you.”“You’d think so, right?” She laughed, a bitter sound. “Oh, they’re all happy to stare at me when I run, but as soon as I approach them with a training sword in my hand, everyone suddenly finds somewhere else they need to be. I just do what I can with the wooden posts.”I was getting angry. “That's nothing.”“It's the best I can do.”“It's not enough,” I answered.Her eyes flashed, but I turned away. I started towards the closest rack of training swords. “I’ll train you myself, then.”She caught me before I’d taken my third step. Her hand closed around my arm, whirling me around to face the anger in her wild, cypress green eyes.“Fuck you,” she hissed. “I don’t need your pity.”“Pity?” I wrenched my arm from her grip. “This isn’t about fucking pity. You’re Empress Theodora’s bodyguard. Our duty is to keep her safe. How the fuck are you going to do that if you can’t fight?”“I’m not a coward,” she said. “I won’t run.”I snorted. “So, what? Any idiot can take a knife to the gut. But what happens to our Empress after that?”She didn’t back away from me, but neither did she speak. So, I did.“You’re my shield mate, Helena. We stand beside each other. While we fight, your shield stays locked onto mine.” I slapped my hand loudly against my forearm, my voice rising.“We fight like Romans. We make a wall out of our shields and bodies. We let our enemies break themselves upon it, and we grind through them.”I was angry. I was angry at her for not trying. I was angry at the self-important guards who’d refused to teach her. And I was angry at myself, that I hadn’t noticed any of this sooner.“We sell our lives as dearly as possible.” I was roaring now, my voice hoarse. “That's our fucking duty. You, and all these shit-brained Excubitors have forgotten. But I haven’t. And I’m not going to die because my shield mate doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing.”I grabbed her arm and spun her around, kicking her towards the rack of wooden swords and shields. “So, go get us some gear. We’re starting now.”Helena hesitated a moment, her back stiff and trembling. My fists were clenched, ready to meet her rage with my own. Though, the still rational part of me knew that it would be the end of us. I wouldn’t work with someone who let their pride get in the way of their duty.She didn’t, moving towards the nearest rack within another heartbeat.“Don’t forget the shields!” I shouted after her.Then, I let out a long breath, trying to unclench my muscles. She’d done right. Again. She didn’t deserve this. I noticed some of the Excubitors throwing looks my way. I’d evidently spoken louder than I ought to, because most glared at me furiously.I glared right back.One of them started to come towards me, a sneer painted onto his face. He was pretty; bare-chested as the rest of us, his muscles gleaming with oil. He swung his wooden sword in lazy arcs, his shield nearly dragging through the sand.“I don’t recognize you,” he said in a refined accent. “Are you here to train that woman?”I felt my hackles rise. I wasn’t going to let some tarted up parade ground soldier speak to me like I was some fucking dog. Even if he was probably some senator’s son.“We’re the Empress’ guard, boy,” I snapped. “Piss off.”The idiot’s face darkened. “Watch your mouth,” he said. “This place is for soldiers; not women and servants.”“Fuck off. I won’t tell you again.”But I knew he wouldn’t. He’d gone this far, in full view of his entire unit. He couldn’t let me win. And so, when his sneer shifted into a snarl and he swung his wooden blade across at me, I was ready.I caught the wooden sword in one fist, ignoring the pain that flared there. The idiot’s eyes widened. He tugged on it, trying to pull it out of my grip, but I swung my other fist into his nose before he could succeed.I smeared his nose across his face. He collapsed to the sand, screaming. The fool hadn’t even raised his shield.I kicked him in the stomach, wrenched the sword from his grip and ripped the shield from his other arm. I quickly looped my own limb through the too loose straps of the shield, cinching them tight with my teeth in time to see one of his friends charging at me.I rushed to meet him, tucking my shoulder into my shield and crushing it into him. I hit him like a battering ram. He went down, and I ground my heel into his stomach before facing the rest of them.“Come on!” I roared. I slammed the flat of my sword against the face of my shield. “Anyone else!?”Then, I slammed my sword onto it again, and again. The sound was deafening, though it was nothing compared to what it could be. To the thunder of tens of thousands on the battlefield.“Show me!” I screamed. “Show me who you are!”A few of the other Excubitors started towards me. I waited for them to come, slamming my sword into my shield and bellowing my anger into theirs.But these weren't Stratiotai. It had been generations since the Excubitors had gone to war. They knew nothing of blood, of death.But I did, and when they faltered, I did not. I kept beating my sword against my shield. And for the first time in God knew how long, the walls of the Hippodrome echoed with the rhythmic drum of the Legion at war.The very heartbeat of Rome.Helena joined me at some point. I let the sound die out when I was sure that no one else would come. I spat on the ground, my anger not at all burned away.“Leave that extra sword and shield here,” I told Helena, turning and striding to a clear space. “I’ve already got my own.”The sun was low in the sky when I finally called an end to our training. We shuffled through the halls of the Imperial Palace. I was exhausted, my muscles stretched and quivering. My head hurt; I was sun-scorched and hungry from the midday meal that we’d skipped.Yet, I felt good. Great even.“Leo,” Helena called.She was a few steps behind me, stopped at a junction with a corridor I didn’t recognize. Guilt flashed through me. She looked worse than I felt; her muscles taut and shaking beneath dirt and sweat crusted flesh. Bruises were already blooming all over, some scabbing over with dried blood.“Come this way,” she said, turning down the new hallway. “I want to show you something.”“What is it?”“You’ll see,” she said, disappearing from view.I hesitated a moment before forcing my aching body after her. I’d worked her too hard. I hadn’t been fair; us
Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.Theodora believed. Her faith ran deeply. It was not worn as some gesture of heretical mockery. That cross, like her body, were symbols of her devotion to God. She made love, shared herself with others as an act of worship. Her every moan, a prayer; her every cry, an exultation to her creator. The font between her legs, the sweetest sort of holy water.It was no sin to revel in what God had given her.“Ah, my soldier,” she panted, collapsing onto her hands. “You are a worthy distraction.”The Empress finished her bath not long after; taking a few minutes to scrub vigorously at her skin, her expression curled into one of satisfied contentment. We traveled with her back to her inner chambers, standing outside while an army of maids moved in to help her get dressed.I stood numbly at Helena’s side, my guts twisting around as if I’d taken a knife. I hated myself; both for what I’d done and what I hadn’t let myself do. She was my Empress, yet I couldn’t get the sight of her naked body out of head. Or, how I’d watched her impale herself again and again on that golden phallus; rivulets of her own moisture trickling down the shaft of it.“You surprised me again, you know,” Helena said into the silence.Her voice drew me back into the real world, letting me blink my thoughts clear. I tilting my head to find her eyes considering me.“In the baths,” she clarified. “Your restraint.”Right. She’d been there. She’d seen me, my nakedness, My cheeks suddenly, burned scarlet and I couldn’t meet her gaze.She laughed, a deep sound rich with textures, which somehow made me feel even more uncomfortable.“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ve seen many others, and been a lot closer to a fair bit of them. Although, yours was particularly nice,”She trailed off, her voice still on the edge of laughter."Restraint?” I managed to croak out, looking for a way out of this. “What restraint?”“You know what I mean,” Helena said. “The Empress practically begged you for more. Most men, and many women I’ve met wouldn’t have hesitated to jump in. But you didn’t, and I can’t really figure out why.”I let out a long breath, breathing back in through my nose. I caught the whiff of oiled-steel, and was talking before I really knew it.“Honestly? I don’t even know. She’s the Empress for God’s sake, not some camp follower. And besides, she’s married. I know the world is way different here but, I don’t know. It just felt wrong, I guess.”“I told you that neither she nor the Emperor care about that,” Helena said.“I know. But a good woman isn’t supposed to be like that.”“And just how is a good woman supposed to be?”It was a sign about how lost I was in my own confusion that I missed the flint in her voice and the sudden stiffness of her frame. I just kept talking, my eyes down onto my out-stretched hands.“I don’t know that anymore either. My mother always said that good, happy women were,” I let out another long breath and shook my head. "Not like this. Not so, I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter.”I back towards her with a shaky grin. “I guess all I do know is I shouldn’t be the one deciding any of this anyway.”Silence fell between us for a time. I listened to the commotion of the Empress’ preparations, keeping an eye on the empty hallway. It was Helena that eventually spoke again.“And what about me? Am I a good, proper woman?”“No,” I said, meeting the challenge in her gaze. I let my lip quirk into a wry smile. “But Helena, you might just be the sanest person here.”Her lips parted in a wide smile, and the deep green of her eyes brightened just a little. She laughed, and I felt an all-together different sort of warmth rise through me.Training with Helena.My little lion.Your letter has been an answer from God. I feared for you when I heard about the army’s defeat at the hands of those barbaric Persians. But God is good, and I knew that He would not let you fall to those heathens. I do not know when, or where this letter will find you, but just know that I love you and that your dedication to your career fills me with pride.I know too, that your father would say the same. What man wouldn’t? To see their son follow so closely in his own footsteps.I let out a breath, leaning back, away from my little desk. This was the last letter I’d received from my mother; the message waiting for me when I’d arrived in Constantinople back at the end of May. It was nearly September now.I’d put this off enough, I told myself. I had blank parchment, quill and inkpot. I had to write to her. I had to tell her that I was still alright; that I was in the capital. That I was working in the Imperial Palace.That I’d left the Legion.My head fell into my hands. I closed my eyes, and tried to will them open an instant later. I needed to do this. I needed to tell her. I was a soldier for God’s sake, I could write a letter to my own fucking mother.A minute passed, and then two. And then, luckily, there was a knock at my door before I could really start hating myself.I just about leapt from my desk, opening the door to find Helena standing there.“Morning!” She said with a wide smile. “You ready?”“Helena,” I said. “Ready? What, uh. I, for, ?”I trailed off unable to figure out what I’d actually wanted to say. Helena stood in my doorway without her armor, without much of anything really.Her neck and shoulders were bare; her warm bronze skin flowing down to the swell of her chest. The shape of it was hidden, however, lashed tight by a winding strip of cloth. Her stomach was naked, the muscles flexing with every breath she took.My eyes traveled down the tightness of her navel, to the loincloth wrapped snuggly around the curve of her hips. It was short, doing nothing more than swaddle the place where her legs flowed into each other. I followed the endless, sculpted smoothness of her legs down, tracing every swell and divot. I lingered for a time of the strip of cloth looped around one thigh, wondering at its arcane purpose before I arrived at her sandaled feet.“Like what you see?” I could hear the smirk in her voice, and I looked up to find her eyes alight beneath the free-falling curls of her copper hair.“Yes” I instantly replied, the words springing out of me without bothering to stop by my brain.She snorted, a faint flush of color creeping up her naked skin. “Come on, get out of that. We’re going for a run.”“A run, ?” My eyes flicked back down to the shape of her thighs. My mind finally seemed to judder back into motion, and heat seared up my body as I realized what I was doing.“A run!” I said, tearing my eyes away from her. “Yes. Sorry. Yes. I’ll be ready.”I still hadn’t moved, my eyes flailing about wildly for a place to rest. Helena laughed, and I took that as permission to settle back on her grinning face.“Sorry,” I said. “You, uh, took me by surprise.”“I can see that,” she said. “Now, take that off. We need to go before it gets too hot.”“Ah, right,” I said. “Give me a moment.”“Sure,” she said. “I’ll meet you down in the Hippodrome, then.”I nodded. She turned, moving away and giving me a view of her back. My eyes slid down the smooth arch of her spine until they reached the curved, firmness of her hips. Her loin-cloth was tight, looping around her waist and between her legs. It left much of her rounded behind visible, each hump jiggling faintly as she walked.I was mesmerized by the sway of her hips; of the rhythmic bouncing of her cheeks. Of the muscles shifting beneath the flesh of her naked thighs. But most of all, by the way her ass completely devoured the strip of cloth down its center.I heard her make a small sound, and looked up to find her peeking back at me from over one shoulder. I flushed, and saw her lips curl into another smile. She turned her attention forward once more, reaching down to that loop around her thigh and using it to tie back her hair.I swear, in the final few steps before she rounded the corner, the swing of her hips took on an extra snap.I stared after her for a while after she’d disappeared. I’d grown used to the sight of her in armor; the shape of her body masked by the protective steel. Women didn’t wear armor; and so, despite the beauty of her features, I’d somehow convinced myself that Helena wasn’t one.I wouldn’t forget that again. Not now that I had the sight of the swaying, curving femininity of her waist locked tightly in my mind. I knew that I would never forget that first glimpse of her. I’d carry it with me, along with the way her eyes had danced when she’d smiled.Grand HippodromeConstantinople’s Grand Hippodrome was one the great wonders of the world. It was huge, the U-shaped track built directly into the western wall of the Imperial Palace. From the Emperor’s box, Justinian, and the hundred thousand others that could squeeze themselves into the surrounding grandstands, could watch the thunder of the chariot races that were the center of life within the capital.The seats were empty now. Though I remembered well, when I’d jogged through at the end of my own race, the way the sands had shaken with each one of the crowd’s roars and cheers.Helena and I started to run after a few minutes of stretching. We ran the circuit of the charioteers, doing lap after lap around the low, obelisk framed wall that divided the track in two. She was a good runner, better than good. Her breathing was steady, her long legs devouring mile after mile of the sandy track.We ran in silence mostly; each of us focusing on the breath in our lungs, the sun on our naked backs and the sand beneath out feet. I quickly fell back into my old rhythm, my head emptying itself of everything but the run. Slowly, as one hour slipped past, and then two, I felt that calm settle deeper into me. My thoughts, my confusions and my doubts from the past couple of weeks; all of it started to clear. This was something I knew. Something that I was good at. I focused on that, anchoring myself to the joy of doing something I loved; in the company of someone who seemed to love it too.By the time we stopped, I actually felt like myself again.It was near midday when we stopped, guzzling water from a waiting barrel. In the hours since we’d arrived, a unit of Excubitors had started drilling nearby. They attacked wooden posts with heavy training swords; another group falling in and out of formation beneath the heavy batons of their officers.I watched them while we rested, noting a much heavier focus on marching and formation drills, rather than actual combat. It wasn’t what I was used to, but it would serve.“Let’s go train with them,” I said, speaking loudly over the shouts of the officers. “I haven’t practiced in weeks.”Helena, her skin flushed a healthy pink from the long run, didn’t meet my gaze. “Ah, you go. I’ll just run some more; I think.”I frowned. “Come on, we need the practice. Let’s get those guys at the posts to do some actual sparring.”She shook her head. “I can’t. Just go, Leo. I’ll do a few more laps before I go back in.”“Helena,” I said. “We’re the Empress’ Guard. We can train with them whether they like it or not.”Her face twisted. “Oh, they very much don’t like to train with a woman.”My frown deepened. “That doesn’t matter. You guard the Empress. They have to train you.”“You’d think so, right?” She laughed, a bitter sound. “Oh, they’re all happy to stare at me when I run, but as soon as I approach them with a training sword in my hand, everyone suddenly finds somewhere else they need to be. I just do what I can with the wooden posts.”I was getting angry. “That's nothing.”“It's the best I can do.”“It's not enough,” I answered.Her eyes flashed, but I turned away. I started towards the closest rack of training swords. “I’ll train you myself, then.”She caught me before I’d taken my third step. Her hand closed around my arm, whirling me around to face the anger in her wild, cypress green eyes.“Fuck you,” she hissed. “I don’t need your pity.”“Pity?” I wrenched my arm from her grip. “This isn’t about fucking pity. You’re Empress Theodora’s bodyguard. Our duty is to keep her safe. How the fuck are you going to do that if you can’t fight?”“I’m not a coward,” she said. “I won’t run.”I snorted. “So, what? Any idiot can take a knife to the gut. But what happens to our Empress after that?”She didn’t back away from me, but neither did she speak. So, I did.“You’re my shield mate, Helena. We stand beside each other. While we fight, your shield stays locked onto mine.” I slapped my hand loudly against my forearm, my voice rising.“We fight like Romans. We make a wall out of our shields and bodies. We let our enemies break themselves upon it, and we grind through them.”I was angry. I was angry at her for not trying. I was angry at the self-important guards who’d refused to teach her. And I was angry at myself, that I hadn’t noticed any of this sooner.“We sell our lives as dearly as possible.” I was roaring now, my voice hoarse. “That's our fucking duty. You, and all these shit-brained Excubitors have forgotten. But I haven’t. And I’m not going to die because my shield mate doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing.”I grabbed her arm and spun her around, kicking her towards the rack of wooden swords and shields. “So, go get us some gear. We’re starting now.”Helena hesitated a moment, her back stiff and trembling. My fists were clenched, ready to meet her rage with my own. Though, the still rational part of me knew that it would be the end of us. I wouldn’t work with someone who let their pride get in the way of their duty.She didn’t, moving towards the nearest rack within another heartbeat.“Don’t forget the shields!” I shouted after her.Then, I let out a long breath, trying to unclench my muscles. She’d done right. Again. She didn’t deserve this. I noticed some of the Excubitors throwing looks my way. I’d evidently spoken louder than I ought to, because most glared at me furiously.I glared right back.One of them started to come towards me, a sneer painted onto his face. He was pretty; bare-chested as the rest of us, his muscles gleaming with oil. He swung his wooden sword in lazy arcs, his shield nearly dragging through the sand.“I don’t recognize you,” he said in a refined accent. “Are you here to train that woman?”I felt my hackles rise. I wasn’t going to let some tarted up parade ground soldier speak to me like I was some fucking dog. Even if he was probably some senator’s son.“We’re the Empress’ guard, boy,” I snapped. “Piss off.”The idiot’s face darkened. “Watch your mouth,” he said. “This place is for soldiers; not women and servants.”“Fuck off. I won’t tell you again.”But I knew he wouldn’t. He’d gone this far, in full view of his entire unit. He couldn’t let me win. And so, when his sneer shifted into a snarl and he swung his wooden blade across at me, I was ready.I caught the wooden sword in one fist, ignoring the pain that flared there. The idiot’s eyes widened. He tugged on it, trying to pull it out of my grip, but I swung my other fist into his nose before he could succeed.I smeared his nose across his face. He collapsed to the sand, screaming. The fool hadn’t even raised his shield.I kicked him in the stomach, wrenched the sword from his grip and ripped the shield from his other arm. I quickly looped my own limb through the too loose straps of the shield, cinching them tight with my teeth in time to see one of his friends charging at me.I rushed to meet him, tucking my shoulder into my shield and crushing it into him. I hit him like a battering ram. He went down, and I ground my heel into his stomach before facing the rest of them.“Come on!” I roared. I slammed the flat of my sword against the face of my shield. “Anyone else!?”Then, I slammed my sword onto it again, and again. The sound was deafening, though it was nothing compared to what it could be. To the thunder of tens of thousands on the battlefield.“Show me!” I screamed. “Show me who you are!”A few of the other Excubitors started towards me. I waited for them to come, slamming my sword into my shield and bellowing my anger into theirs.But these weren't Stratiotai. It had been generations since the Excubitors had gone to war. They knew nothing of blood, of death.But I did, and when they faltered, I did not. I kept beating my sword against my shield. And for the first time in God knew how long, the walls of the Hippodrome echoed with the rhythmic drum of the Legion at war.The very heartbeat of Rome.Helena joined me at some point. I let the sound die out when I was sure that no one else would come. I spat on the ground, my anger not at all burned away.“Leave that extra sword and shield here,” I told Helena, turning and striding to a clear space. “I’ve already got my own.”The sun was low in the sky when I finally called an end to our training. We shuffled through the halls of the Imperial Palace. I was exhausted, my muscles stretched and quivering. My head hurt; I was sun-scorched and hungry from the midday meal that we’d skipped.Yet, I felt good. Great even.“Leo,” Helena called.She was a few steps behind me, stopped at a junction with a corridor I didn’t recognize. Guilt flashed through me. She looked worse than I felt; her muscles taut and shaking beneath dirt and sweat crusted flesh. Bruises were already blooming all over, some scabbing over with dried blood.“Come this way,” she said, turning down the new hallway. “I want to show you something.”“What is it?”“You’ll see,” she said, disappearing from view.I hesitated a moment before forcing my aching body after her. I’d worked her too hard. I hadn’t been fair; us
Cleopatra would have blushed in this Empress' presence.Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.“I will die before I let them take the purple that robes me. For never will I see the day where those I meet do not call me Empress.”Leontius is stratiotai, a soldier of Rome's armies. He has lived a decade and more of war, staining his boots with the dirt of nations that have dared to raise their blades against the Empire. It's left him tired. So, when given a chance to step from the battlefield and into Constantinople's Imperial Palace, he takes it.Leontius enters the service of Empress Theodora, a woman unlike any other, who rose from the capital's meanest brothels to sit as co-ruler of the Mediterranean's mightiest Empire. But the city writhes in her grip. As embers of rebellion flare into conflagration, Leontius will find that there exists a life beyond what he has known. A path he sees reflected in the smile of a guardswoman with wild, cypress eyes.This is a story set in the Imperial court of the Byzantine Empire in the year 532 AD. It is the tale of a young soldier inducted into the guard of a very horny Empress.“Tell God that He made a mistake, dear father, when He only gave me three holes for pleasure.”I turned those words over in my head, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I swear, those words had nearly killed my mother when she’d first heard them. She was a tough, tight-lipped seamstress that could heave a bolt of satin over one shoulder with one hand, while she slapped a lesson into me with the other.“What sort of woman would say that?” She’d rail, before clapping her hands over my ears. “Close yourself off to such things,” she’d warn me. “They are not for folks like us.”Those were for the people of the capital, where the streets teemed with prostitutes and silk covered actresses. Not for the goodly, simple folk of Rhodos and my mother’s shop.Despite myself, I felt my lip quirk into a small smile. Of course, the capital was exactly where I was. I stood and kept my eyes lowered until I’d made my way to the nearest window. I stared out into the afternoon sun, breathing deeply of the summer air that was heavy with the scent of nearly half a million people. Constantinople, golden capital of the Eastern Roman, Byzantine Empire and center of the world.I was looking out over the Hippodrome’s track and out into the thousands of domes and roofs of the city. There was no city quite like it in all the world, and even now, a month after having arrived, I still often got lost in its crooked streets.I heard a polite cough behind me, and I turned to find one of the armored guards nodding to the seat I had just vacated. Evidently, I was supposed to wait there.I gritted my teeth, but obeyed. They were just doing their jobs. It wasn’t their fault that I was nearly twitching with restless energy.I adjusted myself on the chair, shifting around in vain to try and find a comfortable position. In all fairness, my discomfort wasn’t the furniture’s fault either. This was, without a doubt, the finest chair I’d ever sat it. Its cushion was thick, held up by four intricately carved legs of scented wood.The rest of the small antechamber was just as luxurious. Everywhere I looked, I saw gold and marble and fine pottery. Even the large door, so diligently guarded by the two armored Excubitors, was carved and inlaid with gold.What in God’s name was I doing here? I was a soldier; my hands calloused by the sword. I was stratiotai, an infantry man. My place was in the shield wall, my sandals stained with the dirt of kingdoms that dared raise their blades against Rome.At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.I heard the muffled sound from behind the guarded door. It made me think back to my mother, to those words that she’d so hated to hear.“Three holes for pleasure,” I murmured to myself.I coughed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I shifted again on this damnable chair. What would my mother think if she could see me now? Her only son, her soldier, her little lion; invited to the Imperial Palace.I think that those words would be the first thing she thought of. I think that she would once again clap her hands to my ears so that I would hear no more from the woman that had so famously uttered them.This woman; she who’d been crowned Augusta. A woman who’d come from the flea ridden pallets of the city’s meanest brothel and had risen to command the wealth of half the world. A woman upon who’s words rested the fate of millions. The most powerful woman on earth; co-ruler of the Mediterranean’s mightiest empire and who’s beauty and ruthless intelligence were already being woven into legend.Theodora; Empress of Rome. The woman that I was to meet.The door guarded by the two Imperial Guards suddenly swung open. I leapt to my feet, my spine snapping into a salute.“Ouch,” I heard a woman laugh. “What do you think boys, is his back is straight enough?”The two Excubitors chuckled. I blinked, and found myself facing not the Empress, but a woman in the armor of a guard. The breastplate she wore was of plain, functional steel. She carried with her a heavy, iron-rimmed shield with a short-sword and dagger strapped to the belt at her waist.This was a stratiotai’s kit, standard issue amongst the Emperor’s legions. It was the twin of the one I’d worn nearly every day since my sixteenth birthday; right down to the helmet she held in the crook of her arm.She moved towards me, her hobnailed boots loud against the marble floor. My mind was blank and only a decade’s worth of military discipline kept my mouth from gaping open like the world’s largest fish.Woman weren’t soldiers. They couldn’t be soldiers.A woman’s place was married, tending to a home or shop or farm. From crib to hearth to crib to grave; my mother would say while pinching my cheek. A good woman could be happy nowhere else, she’d insisted.And yet, here one was, grinning at me with her emerald eyes.“Loosen up,” she said. “My back hurts just looking at you.”I obeyed the note of easy command in her voice, staring up and over her left shoulder as I would any Centurion.It was easier than trying to work through my confusion.I felt her eyes on me, taking note of the muscles beneath my light tunica. She swept her eyes down my arms and made an approved sound when she saw the callouses on my open palms. I felt her take note of my scars next, her eyes lingering on each one.My face flushed, my heart beating faster.I wasn’t used to being around women, at least not ones that I hadn’t paid for their company. They were hard to find in a legions camp. This guardswoman was strong, confident, and my awkwardness wasn’t helped by the fact that she was intensely beautiful.Her bright green eyes were the most striking, though it was far from the only thing that made her a rarity. Her hair was held back at her forehead by a band of cloth; a wave of copper-colored hair that curled down to her shoulders. And though her skin was bronzed by the summer sun, she had the sort of complexion that was rare to find in the capital since the loss of the Empire’s western provinces.“So, you’re the one who won the foot-race,” she said. “Leontius, right? I watched you come into the Hippodrome. You’ve got good form.”Was she a runner too? Judging from the lean muscles of her arms and legs, she very well could be. And why the hell not? Apparently, women could be soldiers here, why couldn’t they run naked with the rest of us in the athletic events?I heard the rising voice of my mother’s outrage in my head, but I pushed it and all my swirling confusion to the side. I was a soldier, and I knew how to deal with the dangers of the present before I worried about the future. And right now, the danger was that I’d been staring at this guard’s shapely thighs during a long moment of still stretching silence.“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, my face suddenly burning. “Thank you, sir!” I coughed again, “ma'am”She laughed; eyes sparkling. She had a deep, full-bellied laugh; one that thrummed through my chest and made my toes tingle.“Sir is fine,” she said. “For now. I know that you legion boys have a hard time with change.” She winked.“Ah, yes sir,” I swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”“Alright, then. Are you ready to meet your Empress?”“Yes, sir!” I said, snapping off another salute.She smirked, and led me through the open door and into the short hallway beyond. I followed her towards the door at the other end.“You won the Emperor’s foot-race,” she said. “And you’re a soldier; that means that the Emperor has granted you the chance to join the Empress’ Guard.”“Yes, sir.”I tried not to remember that race. I love to run, but that had been brutal. I’d run for almost an entire day, hammered by the summer sun, racing against the thousand others that had decided to sign up.But I’d won, and the Emperor, Justinian himself, had come down from the Imperial box to put the laurel upon my head. I don’t remember much of that day, though I’m sure that beneath the pain and intense dehydration I’d been proud. I had to have been.The guardswoman glanced over her shoulder at me. “It's just a chance; an interview. Remember that. The Empress has the final say.”My face must have flickered, because she spoke again. “You have a question, soldier?”“No, sir.”“Yes, you do,” she said. “Spit it out.”“Sorry, sir, it's just that I thought that it was the Emperor that chose his Excubitors.”Her lip quirked. “We’re not Excubitors. They guard the whole palace, and the Emperor, sure. Our duties are to the Empress, nobody else. That clear?”“Yes, sir!” I said, though of course, her answer had just raised a hundred more questions in me. “Clear as the giant’s foot.”I immediately cringed as the words slipped out. Now wasn’t the time for a damned joke! But to my relief, she laughed once again.“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”We were at hallway’s only other door now, the one that presumably opened into the Empress’ chambers. She turned to regard me with an expression that made the heat rise to behind my neck.“Sorry, sir!” I said. “It's an expression from my home. God as my witness, I meant no offense.”“Your home,” she said. “Rhodes, right?”“I,” I blinked. "Yes, sir.”She grinned. “I knew that there was a reason I liked you. I’m from Lindos, on the eastern side of the island.”“Yes, sir. I know it.”I shoved that information into the same corner of my mind as my now screaming mother. I had family in Lindos, had visited it as a boy. To find out that we may have crossed paths once before was just too much.“I’m from Rhodos,” I said instead. “The city. Though I haven’t been back since I joined the legions.”“It’s been a long time for me as well,” she said.She reached for the ornate handle, pausing to look back at me.“A word of advice,” she said. “The Empress will not be what you expect. Obey her, and remember that while you’re in that room, you’re as responsible for her life as I am.”Without giving me a chance to respond, the armored woman threw open the door and marched me into Empress Theodora’s private chambers.Her sitting room was large, airy, kept cool by an open balcony and several wide windows. The walls were of stone, festooned with tapestry, art and the many other sort of golden things that the rich liked to collect. Beautifully carved wooden chairs, couches and divans were spread throughout the space.And lounging on one, a book held delicately in one hand; was the Empress Theodora.“Highness,” the guardswoman said. “Here’s the man that won the Emperor’s Race.”“Your Majesty,” I said. I dropped to my knees, keeping my eyes on the stone floor. “It would be an honor to serve you.”“Would it, now?” I heard her say in a voice that was tinged with a smile. “Stand up, solider. Let me get a good look at you.”I obeyed, keeping my eyes downcast. I heard the rustle of fabric.“How do you expect to guard me if you’re always looking at the floor?”I flushed, feeling the heat crawl up my neck. I hurriedly looked up, and I swear that for several long heartbeats, I couldn’t breathe.The beauty of the Emperor’s wife was spoken of everywhere her name was known. I had heard her described a thousand different ways; heard a hundred different versions of how she’d come to be named Augusta.Born on faraway Cyprus, she’d come to Constantinople as a child. Her father had trained bears for the circus, and when he’d died, her family had been doomed to the worst sort of poverty. She’d survived as many a young woman had; by trading her body for a roof and something to eat.She’d worked at a brothel, and later as an actress, which many said were the same sort of profession. Constantinople’s taverns were full of men who’d claim to have known her then. They’d wax about the times they’d had her, for one night or many. Others would reminisce about her time on stage, their eyes faraway as they’d recount the day they’d seen her dance clothed in nothing but a long, red-ribbon.I’d heard every story, though none could prepare me for the sight of her. She’d set her book down, her body still draped over the divan. She was young, I realized, barely past her third decade. She wore a thin, silky sort of dress, the material clinging to a figure that had retained its dancer’s strength.Her feet were bare, and she stood in one smooth motion. Her smile was pleased as she glided towards me, her curves tight against the cloth of her dress.Dark, intelligent eyes watched me from above a long neck. It swept of gracefully from her tight chest, a golden chain disappearing into the space that divided it. I wondered what was hidden there, safe and out of sight. How warm the gold must be, cradled against the smoothness of her skin.The Empress smirked. I wrenched my eyes back to the floor, mortified. What in God’s name was I doing? My face burned, and I was opening my mouth to stammer an apology when the Empress spoke.“I did not say that you could look away, soldier.”“A thousand apologies, my Empress,” I said.I lifted my gaze back up to hers with some difficulty. Her eyes were wrinkled in a smile. The rest of her skin was smooth, a warm brown that was a only a few shades lighter than the thick, wavy tresses of hair that cascaded down past her shoulders.She’d stopped an arms-length from me, examining me in the same manner as her guard had a few minutes before. My flush deepened.“Am I making you uncomfortable?”“N, No, your Majesty,” I managed to say.“Good,” her smile widened. “Because I am impressed with you, stratiotai Leontius. And that is without taking into account your victory in my husband’s race. You fought in Persia, did you not?”“Ah, yes, your Majesty. I fought in general Belisarius’ army.”“Indeed,” she said. “You shared in his great victory at Dara, and in his defeat at Callinicum a bare few months ago.”I did not want to remember those battles, that campaign against the Sassanid Persians; neither the baking sun and trenches of Dara or how their cavalry had swept through us at Callinicum.“Yes, your Majesty,” was all I said.“I’ve spoken to many of your fellow soldiers, since Belisarius and his army have trickled back to the capital. You are well regarded by your comrades.”I ducked my head, “thank you, your Majesty.”“A thoughtful man, they all say. One serious about his duty. You had few friends amongst your cohort, yet all respected you.” The Empress continued. “You enlisted at sixteen years of age. You’ve served a decade already, and I believe that you would have served another one if you’d not caught my husband’s attention.”I nodded, ignoring the twist in my stomach.“An exemplary man,” she said. “In most things.”The Empress started to move, circling me. She made a little sound with her throat. “He’s quite handsome as well, is he not?”“I thought so too, Highness,” the emerald-eyed guardswoman said.“Lean,” the Empress continued. “A runner, obviously. Well-muscled, though his shoulders are a little too small. I’m not sure about the beard either, though the jaw beneath looks strong.”“I rather like it, Highness. It's just a dusting of whiskers, but it suits him nicely.”“Yes, well, you’ve always liked them rather savage, Helena. Your Rhodian blood, no doubt.”The other woman, Helena, grinned. “He’s Rhodian too, Highness.”The Empress sniffed. “Figures. I suspect that he will be as uncivilized as you are, then.”Her smile made light of her words, though I was still incredibly uncomfortable. I sweated beneath the attention of the two beautiful women. I kept my back ramrod straight, knowing that I’d be squirming like a virgin at a brothel if I let myself relax.“Now,” the Empress said. “Lie down. On your back.”The order confused me. But she was my Empress, and so I obeyed; lowering myself onto my back, the stone cool through the linen of my tunica.She smiled down at me. “Your obedience is commendable, soldier. And fear not, you’re down there for a reason.”Cloth rustled and sighed, her bare feet making no sound at all as she stepped around me. She was beside my chest now, her large, dark eyes twinkling as she kept her gaze on my face. Inexplicably, I felt my cheeks redden. I averted my gaze.“Look at me,” I heard her snap.My eyes, wide with sudden panic, flew back to her face. Her smile was gone, replaced by a downward twist of her lips.“Your, Your Majesty.” I stammered, frozen, like a rabbit beneath the eagle’s shadow. “Forgive me. Please, I didn’t,”Her smile returned, softening her features and a better companion to the sparkle that had never left her eyes."Shush,” she said. “There’s nothing to forgive.
Cleopatra would have blushed in this Empress' presence.Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.“I will die before I let them take the purple that robes me. For never will I see the day where those I meet do not call me Empress.”Leontius is stratiotai, a soldier of Rome's armies. He has lived a decade and more of war, staining his boots with the dirt of nations that have dared to raise their blades against the Empire. It's left him tired. So, when given a chance to step from the battlefield and into Constantinople's Imperial Palace, he takes it.Leontius enters the service of Empress Theodora, a woman unlike any other, who rose from the capital's meanest brothels to sit as co-ruler of the Mediterranean's mightiest Empire. But the city writhes in her grip. As embers of rebellion flare into conflagration, Leontius will find that there exists a life beyond what he has known. A path he sees reflected in the smile of a guardswoman with wild, cypress eyes.This is a story set in the Imperial court of the Byzantine Empire in the year 532 AD. It is the tale of a young soldier inducted into the guard of a very horny Empress.“Tell God that He made a mistake, dear father, when He only gave me three holes for pleasure.”I turned those words over in my head, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I swear, those words had nearly killed my mother when she’d first heard them. She was a tough, tight-lipped seamstress that could heave a bolt of satin over one shoulder with one hand, while she slapped a lesson into me with the other.“What sort of woman would say that?” She’d rail, before clapping her hands over my ears. “Close yourself off to such things,” she’d warn me. “They are not for folks like us.”Those were for the people of the capital, where the streets teemed with prostitutes and silk covered actresses. Not for the goodly, simple folk of Rhodos and my mother’s shop.Despite myself, I felt my lip quirk into a small smile. Of course, the capital was exactly where I was. I stood and kept my eyes lowered until I’d made my way to the nearest window. I stared out into the afternoon sun, breathing deeply of the summer air that was heavy with the scent of nearly half a million people. Constantinople, golden capital of the Eastern Roman, Byzantine Empire and center of the world.I was looking out over the Hippodrome’s track and out into the thousands of domes and roofs of the city. There was no city quite like it in all the world, and even now, a month after having arrived, I still often got lost in its crooked streets.I heard a polite cough behind me, and I turned to find one of the armored guards nodding to the seat I had just vacated. Evidently, I was supposed to wait there.I gritted my teeth, but obeyed. They were just doing their jobs. It wasn’t their fault that I was nearly twitching with restless energy.I adjusted myself on the chair, shifting around in vain to try and find a comfortable position. In all fairness, my discomfort wasn’t the furniture’s fault either. This was, without a doubt, the finest chair I’d ever sat it. Its cushion was thick, held up by four intricately carved legs of scented wood.The rest of the small antechamber was just as luxurious. Everywhere I looked, I saw gold and marble and fine pottery. Even the large door, so diligently guarded by the two armored Excubitors, was carved and inlaid with gold.What in God’s name was I doing here? I was a soldier; my hands calloused by the sword. I was stratiotai, an infantry man. My place was in the shield wall, my sandals stained with the dirt of kingdoms that dared raise their blades against Rome.At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.I heard the muffled sound from behind the guarded door. It made me think back to my mother, to those words that she’d so hated to hear.“Three holes for pleasure,” I murmured to myself.I coughed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I shifted again on this damnable chair. What would my mother think if she could see me now? Her only son, her soldier, her little lion; invited to the Imperial Palace.I think that those words would be the first thing she thought of. I think that she would once again clap her hands to my ears so that I would hear no more from the woman that had so famously uttered them.This woman; she who’d been crowned Augusta. A woman who’d come from the flea ridden pallets of the city’s meanest brothel and had risen to command the wealth of half the world. A woman upon who’s words rested the fate of millions. The most powerful woman on earth; co-ruler of the Mediterranean’s mightiest empire and who’s beauty and ruthless intelligence were already being woven into legend.Theodora; Empress of Rome. The woman that I was to meet.The door guarded by the two Imperial Guards suddenly swung open. I leapt to my feet, my spine snapping into a salute.“Ouch,” I heard a woman laugh. “What do you think boys, is his back is straight enough?”The two Excubitors chuckled. I blinked, and found myself facing not the Empress, but a woman in the armor of a guard. The breastplate she wore was of plain, functional steel. She carried with her a heavy, iron-rimmed shield with a short-sword and dagger strapped to the belt at her waist.This was a stratiotai’s kit, standard issue amongst the Emperor’s legions. It was the twin of the one I’d worn nearly every day since my sixteenth birthday; right down to the helmet she held in the crook of her arm.She moved towards me, her hobnailed boots loud against the marble floor. My mind was blank and only a decade’s worth of military discipline kept my mouth from gaping open like the world’s largest fish.Woman weren’t soldiers. They couldn’t be soldiers.A woman’s place was married, tending to a home or shop or farm. From crib to hearth to crib to grave; my mother would say while pinching my cheek. A good woman could be happy nowhere else, she’d insisted.And yet, here one was, grinning at me with her emerald eyes.“Loosen up,” she said. “My back hurts just looking at you.”I obeyed the note of easy command in her voice, staring up and over her left shoulder as I would any Centurion.It was easier than trying to work through my confusion.I felt her eyes on me, taking note of the muscles beneath my light tunica. She swept her eyes down my arms and made an approved sound when she saw the callouses on my open palms. I felt her take note of my scars next, her eyes lingering on each one.My face flushed, my heart beating faster.I wasn’t used to being around women, at least not ones that I hadn’t paid for their company. They were hard to find in a legions camp. This guardswoman was strong, confident, and my awkwardness wasn’t helped by the fact that she was intensely beautiful.Her bright green eyes were the most striking, though it was far from the only thing that made her a rarity. Her hair was held back at her forehead by a band of cloth; a wave of copper-colored hair that curled down to her shoulders. And though her skin was bronzed by the summer sun, she had the sort of complexion that was rare to find in the capital since the loss of the Empire’s western provinces.“So, you’re the one who won the foot-race,” she said. “Leontius, right? I watched you come into the Hippodrome. You’ve got good form.”Was she a runner too? Judging from the lean muscles of her arms and legs, she very well could be. And why the hell not? Apparently, women could be soldiers here, why couldn’t they run naked with the rest of us in the athletic events?I heard the rising voice of my mother’s outrage in my head, but I pushed it and all my swirling confusion to the side. I was a soldier, and I knew how to deal with the dangers of the present before I worried about the future. And right now, the danger was that I’d been staring at this guard’s shapely thighs during a long moment of still stretching silence.“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, my face suddenly burning. “Thank you, sir!” I coughed again, “ma'am”She laughed; eyes sparkling. She had a deep, full-bellied laugh; one that thrummed through my chest and made my toes tingle.“Sir is fine,” she said. “For now. I know that you legion boys have a hard time with change.” She winked.“Ah, yes sir,” I swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”“Alright, then. Are you ready to meet your Empress?”“Yes, sir!” I said, snapping off another salute.She smirked, and led me through the open door and into the short hallway beyond. I followed her towards the door at the other end.“You won the Emperor’s foot-race,” she said. “And you’re a soldier; that means that the Emperor has granted you the chance to join the Empress’ Guard.”“Yes, sir.”I tried not to remember that race. I love to run, but that had been brutal. I’d run for almost an entire day, hammered by the summer sun, racing against the thousand others that had decided to sign up.But I’d won, and the Emperor, Justinian himself, had come down from the Imperial box to put the laurel upon my head. I don’t remember much of that day, though I’m sure that beneath the pain and intense dehydration I’d been proud. I had to have been.The guardswoman glanced over her shoulder at me. “It's just a chance; an interview. Remember that. The Empress has the final say.”My face must have flickered, because she spoke again. “You have a question, soldier?”“No, sir.”“Yes, you do,” she said. “Spit it out.”“Sorry, sir, it's just that I thought that it was the Emperor that chose his Excubitors.”Her lip quirked. “We’re not Excubitors. They guard the whole palace, and the Emperor, sure. Our duties are to the Empress, nobody else. That clear?”“Yes, sir!” I said, though of course, her answer had just raised a hundred more questions in me. “Clear as the giant’s foot.”I immediately cringed as the words slipped out. Now wasn’t the time for a damned joke! But to my relief, she laughed once again.“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”We were at hallway’s only other door now, the one that presumably opened into the Empress’ chambers. She turned to regard me with an expression that made the heat rise to behind my neck.“Sorry, sir!” I said. “It's an expression from my home. God as my witness, I meant no offense.”“Your home,” she said. “Rhodes, right?”“I,” I blinked. "Yes, sir.”She grinned. “I knew that there was a reason I liked you. I’m from Lindos, on the eastern side of the island.”“Yes, sir. I know it.”I shoved that information into the same corner of my mind as my now screaming mother. I had family in Lindos, had visited it as a boy. To find out that we may have crossed paths once before was just too much.“I’m from Rhodos,” I said instead. “The city. Though I haven’t been back since I joined the legions.”“It’s been a long time for me as well,” she said.She reached for the ornate handle, pausing to look back at me.“A word of advice,” she said. “The Empress will not be what you expect. Obey her, and remember that while you’re in that room, you’re as responsible for her life as I am.”Without giving me a chance to respond, the armored woman threw open the door and marched me into Empress Theodora’s private chambers.Her sitting room was large, airy, kept cool by an open balcony and several wide windows. The walls were of stone, festooned with tapestry, art and the many other sort of golden things that the rich liked to collect. Beautifully carved wooden chairs, couches and divans were spread throughout the space.And lounging on one, a book held delicately in one hand; was the Empress Theodora.“Highness,” the guardswoman said. “Here’s the man that won the Emperor’s Race.”“Your Majesty,” I said. I dropped to my knees, keeping my eyes on the stone floor. “It would be an honor to serve you.”“Would it, now?” I heard her say in a voice that was tinged with a smile. “Stand up, solider. Let me get a good look at you.”I obeyed, keeping my eyes downcast. I heard the rustle of fabric.“How do you expect to guard me if you’re always looking at the floor?”I flushed, feeling the heat crawl up my neck. I hurriedly looked up, and I swear that for several long heartbeats, I couldn’t breathe.The beauty of the Emperor’s wife was spoken of everywhere her name was known. I had heard her described a thousand different ways; heard a hundred different versions of how she’d come to be named Augusta.Born on faraway Cyprus, she’d come to Constantinople as a child. Her father had trained bears for the circus, and when he’d died, her family had been doomed to the worst sort of poverty. She’d survived as many a young woman had; by trading her body for a roof and something to eat.She’d worked at a brothel, and later as an actress, which many said were the same sort of profession. Constantinople’s taverns were full of men who’d claim to have known her then. They’d wax about the times they’d had her, for one night or many. Others would reminisce about her time on stage, their eyes faraway as they’d recount the day they’d seen her dance clothed in nothing but a long, red-ribbon.I’d heard every story, though none could prepare me for the sight of her. She’d set her book down, her body still draped over the divan. She was young, I realized, barely past her third decade. She wore a thin, silky sort of dress, the material clinging to a figure that had retained its dancer’s strength.Her feet were bare, and she stood in one smooth motion. Her smile was pleased as she glided towards me, her curves tight against the cloth of her dress.Dark, intelligent eyes watched me from above a long neck. It swept of gracefully from her tight chest, a golden chain disappearing into the space that divided it. I wondered what was hidden there, safe and out of sight. How warm the gold must be, cradled against the smoothness of her skin.The Empress smirked. I wrenched my eyes back to the floor, mortified. What in God’s name was I doing? My face burned, and I was opening my mouth to stammer an apology when the Empress spoke.“I did not say that you could look away, soldier.”“A thousand apologies, my Empress,” I said.I lifted my gaze back up to hers with some difficulty. Her eyes were wrinkled in a smile. The rest of her skin was smooth, a warm brown that was a only a few shades lighter than the thick, wavy tresses of hair that cascaded down past her shoulders.She’d stopped an arms-length from me, examining me in the same manner as her guard had a few minutes before. My flush deepened.“Am I making you uncomfortable?”“N, No, your Majesty,” I managed to say.“Good,” her smile widened. “Because I am impressed with you, stratiotai Leontius. And that is without taking into account your victory in my husband’s race. You fought in Persia, did you not?”“Ah, yes, your Majesty. I fought in general Belisarius’ army.”“Indeed,” she said. “You shared in his great victory at Dara, and in his defeat at Callinicum a bare few months ago.”I did not want to remember those battles, that campaign against the Sassanid Persians; neither the baking sun and trenches of Dara or how their cavalry had swept through us at Callinicum.“Yes, your Majesty,” was all I said.“I’ve spoken to many of your fellow soldiers, since Belisarius and his army have trickled back to the capital. You are well regarded by your comrades.”I ducked my head, “thank you, your Majesty.”“A thoughtful man, they all say. One serious about his duty. You had few friends amongst your cohort, yet all respected you.” The Empress continued. “You enlisted at sixteen years of age. You’ve served a decade already, and I believe that you would have served another one if you’d not caught my husband’s attention.”I nodded, ignoring the twist in my stomach.“An exemplary man,” she said. “In most things.”The Empress started to move, circling me. She made a little sound with her throat. “He’s quite handsome as well, is he not?”“I thought so too, Highness,” the emerald-eyed guardswoman said.“Lean,” the Empress continued. “A runner, obviously. Well-muscled, though his shoulders are a little too small. I’m not sure about the beard either, though the jaw beneath looks strong.”“I rather like it, Highness. It's just a dusting of whiskers, but it suits him nicely.”“Yes, well, you’ve always liked them rather savage, Helena. Your Rhodian blood, no doubt.”The other woman, Helena, grinned. “He’s Rhodian too, Highness.”The Empress sniffed. “Figures. I suspect that he will be as uncivilized as you are, then.”Her smile made light of her words, though I was still incredibly uncomfortable. I sweated beneath the attention of the two beautiful women. I kept my back ramrod straight, knowing that I’d be squirming like a virgin at a brothel if I let myself relax.“Now,” the Empress said. “Lie down. On your back.”The order confused me. But she was my Empress, and so I obeyed; lowering myself onto my back, the stone cool through the linen of my tunica.She smiled down at me. “Your obedience is commendable, soldier. And fear not, you’re down there for a reason.”Cloth rustled and sighed, her bare feet making no sound at all as she stepped around me. She was beside my chest now, her large, dark eyes twinkling as she kept her gaze on my face. Inexplicably, I felt my cheeks redden. I averted my gaze.“Look at me,” I heard her snap.My eyes, wide with sudden panic, flew back to her face. Her smile was gone, replaced by a downward twist of her lips.“Your, Your Majesty.” I stammered, frozen, like a rabbit beneath the eagle’s shadow. “Forgive me. Please, I didn’t,”Her smile returned, softening her features and a better companion to the sparkle that had never left her eyes."Shush,” she said. “There’s nothing to forgive.
RNIB Connect Radio's Toby Davey is joined again by Vidar Hjardeng MBE, Inclusion and Diversity Consultant for ITV News across England, Wales, Northern Ireland and the Channel Islands for the next in his regular Connect Radio theatre reviews. A bit more Shakespeare this week with a musical riff on ‘A Midsummer Night's Dream' set during the declassification of Area 51 with ‘Dreamland' by Birmingham Musicals Youth Theatre who offer term time weekly theatre workshops for young people aged between 7-16. ‘Dreamland' is the group's end of year production which was audio described on Saturday 6 July 2024 at 7pm in the Hippodrome's Patrick Studio by Professional Audio Describer Caroline Burn as one of the performers is visually impaired. For more about access at the Birmingham Hippodrome including details of audio described performances do visit the access pages of their website - https://www.birminghamhippodrome.com/plan-your-visit/access/ To find out more about Birmingham Hippodrome Musicals Youth Theatre group do visit the following pages of their website - https://www.birminghamhippodrome.com/hippodrome-projects/young-people/musicals-youth-theatre/ (Image shows RNIB logo. 'RNIB' written in black capital letters over a white background and underlined with a bold pink line, with the words 'See differently' underneath)
Jorj and the crew go undercover at the Hot Foot Hippodrome.The Strange Table Fellows Network:https://theSTFnetwork.comhttps://discord.gg/7KPfMCzhttps://twitter.com/STFNetworkOriginal Theme Music by Adam KellyMusic Sourced at:https://tabletopaudio.com/https://www.epidemicsound.com/https://www.storyblocks.com/
In this PODCAST, my sappy sentimentality is on full display. Thank you for lovingly indulging me. And thank you for sharing this message with your family and friends!!! Please remember that depending upon your web browser and connection speed, it may take up to 60 seconds for this podcast to begin to play. God bless you richly as you listen.
Elias Makos ends the week with Jimmy Zoubris, special advisor to the Mayor, and Akil Alleyne, Reporter and commentator, and Manager of the GemStar Circle of Excellence Scholarship Program. Valerie Plante says that the Hippodrome development will be a ‘city within a city.' Public Safety Minister Dominic Leblanc has discussed plans with a former cabinet minister on a run for the Liberal Leadership if/when Justin Trudeau heads for the exits The NBA has banned Toronto Raptors player Jontay Porter for life. The ban came after an investigation by the league found he disclosed confidential information to sports bettors
What if I told you Rome wasn't always "Rome". After a guy named Constantine won a little civil war within the Roman Empire, he decided Rome was past its prime what with the insane corruption and all. So he set up shop in what would become one of the greatest cities in history, Constantinople. Located on the coast of the Bosphorus Straits with control of one of the richest trade routes in the known world, the only thing that rivaled the landmarks of the city were its defenses, designed to defend the crown jewel of the Roman Empire for what would end up being around 1000 years, and this place was attacked a lot.
Recapping Tedeschi Trucks Band in Baltimore, MD with fans Daniel Marino and Ivan Lutwin! Ivan also had the chance to see Gabe Dixon perform at a private event on March 10, which we discuss as well. Livestreams on YouTube, instagram.com/tedeschitruckspodcast, tedeschitruckspodcast.com, adamchoit.com, tedeschitrucksband.com
Midday Theater Critic J. Wynn Rousuck reviews the latest interpretation of "Peter Pan" which runs through February 25, 2024. Email us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
Welcome to The Weekly Sceptic episode 75, live from The Hippodrome in London's Leicester Square! This week: -Joe Biden comes under heavy scrutiny for his dodgy memory -Trump reveals his radical approach to getting NATO to pay up -Tucker Carlson gets a history lesson from Vladimir Putin -Keir Starmer accuses Rishi Sunak of playing […]
Welcome to The Weekly Sceptic episode 75, live from The Hippodrome in London's Leicester Square! This week: -Joe Biden comes under heavy scrutiny for his dodgy memory -Trump reveals his radical approach to getting NATO to pay up -Tucker Carlson gets a history lesson from Vladimir Putin -Keir Starmer accuses Rishi Sunak of playing politics over a tragedy -Labour candidate Azhar Ali is caught sharing a conspiracy theory about the October 7 attacks -The army introduce crazy woke policies (again) -Elon Musk considers buying Disney Plus Peak Woke, and an audience Q and A for our premium subscribers! Sign up for all the extra content on our new platform, BASED, here: https://basedmedia.org/ This week's sponsor is Thor Holt! https://www.linkedin.com/in/thorholt WhatsApp: 07906 321593 To advertise to our large and discerning audience (1.3 million downloads and counting!), drop Toby a line: weeklysceptic@gmail.com Donate to the Daily Sceptic here: https://dailysceptic.org/donate/ Join the Free Speech Union here: https://www.freespeechunion.org/join Listen to Nick's other podcast The Current Thing here: https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/the-current-thing/id1671573905 Subscribe to Nick's Substack here: https://nickdixon.substack.com Help Nick keep both podcasts going by buying a coffee here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/nickdixon Music by Tinderella Produced by http://podscapers.com
So much has happened in and around Madison Square Park -- the leafy retreat at the intersections of Broadway, Fifth Avenue and 23rd Street -- that telling its entire story requires an extra-sized episode, in honor of our 425th episode.Madison Square Park was the epicenter of New York culture from the years following the Civil War to the early 20th century. The park was really at the heart of Gilded Age New York, whether you were rushing to an upscale restaurant like Delmonico's or a night at the theater or maybe just an evening at one of New York's most luxurious hotels like the Fifth Avenue Hotel or the Hoffman House.The park is surrounded by some of New York's most renowned architecture, from the famous Flatiron Building to the Metropolitan Life Insurance Tower, once the tallest building in the world.The square also lends its name, of course, to one of the most famous sports and performing venues in the world – Madison Square Garden. Its origins begin at the northeast corner of the park on the spot of a former railroad depot and near the spot of the birthplace of an American institution -- baseball.The park introduced New Yorkers to the Statue of Liberty ... or at least her forearm and torch. It stood silently over the bustling park while prize-winning dogs were championed at the very first Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show nearby, held at Gilmore's Gardens, the precursor to Madison Square Garden.Today the region north of the park is referred to as NoMad, which recalls life around Madison Square during the Gilded Age with its high-end restaurant and hotel scene.Tom and Greg invite you on this time-traveling escapade covering over 200 years of history. From the days of rustic creeks and cottages to the long lines at the Shake Shake. From Franconi's Hippodrome to the dazzling cologne fountains of Leonard Jerome (Winston Churcill's grandfather).Visit the website for more information.This episode was edited by Kieran GannonFURTHER LISTENING RELATED TO THIS SHOW-- The Delmonico Way with the Gilded Gentleman and current Delmonico's proprietor Max Tucci -- The Murder of Stanford White-- The Flatiron Building
It is time for another visit with Midday theater critic J. Wynn Rousuck, who joins us each week with her reviews of the Maryland, DC and Virginia regional stage. We discuss “Mrs. Doubtfire,” which continues at the Hippodrome through Sunday, February 4, 2023.Email us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
Helloooooo! First up, Jon shares some of what he's learned using dating apps, which is useful for all mankind. Then Fintan shushes him before it goes entirely off the rails [0:00 – 14:05]. The guest this episode is the returning Paul Sculpher of Gaming Recruitment Solutions, with his varied observations on all things industry and recruitment. We discuss career aspirations, recruitment trends, and challenges in the gaming industry. We also explore the importance of networking, making connections, and leveraging LinkedIn for job opportunities. The conversation also touches on the difficulties and sacrifices of senior roles, the value of character in hiring decisions, and the support available for employees in casino closures. The hosts share their favourite and least-favourite casinos, and the episode concludes with a lighthearted discussion about strip clubs and the Hippodrome's Magic Mike show. Oh, and Las Vegas; we talk Vegas too [14:06 – 1:21:19].
By Davy Crockett New Book, containing the early history of The Barkley Marathons Watching sports on Christmas Day is enjoyed by millions of sporting fans. But it also is probably despised by even more of those sporting fans' families who have other priorities on that special day. While today the events watched are primarily basketball and football, back 144 years ago in 1879, the most popular sport taking place in America on Christmas Day was ultra-distance running, called Pedestrianism. Why would thousands leave their festive holiday celebrations to go many miles by horse carriage to smoke-filled arenas to watch skinny guys walk and run in circles for hours? 1914 Christmas match In America, on Christmas Day, the NBA basketball games have become a tradition (more than 75 years) and increasingly NFL football games are being played. What about soccer (football) in Europe? The most famous Christmas Day game took place during World War I in 1914 between British and German soldiers in No Man's Land in Flanders, Belgium. Soccer leagues played on Christmas well into the 1980s before they stopped. Back in 1879, the featured Christmas Day sports event was ultrarunning/pedestrianism. That day, at least four ultramarathons were taking place. The largest six-day race in history, “The Rose Belt.” with 65 starters, held in Madison Square Garden in New York City, in front of thousands of spectators. In Chicago, at McCormick Hall, four pedestrians were competing in another six-day race, more crowded facilities. Probably the most unusual ultramarathon in history was also taking place in the Red Sea aboard the steamer “Duke of Devonshire.” Pedestrianism and Six-Day Races A British long-distance walker, Foster Powell (1734-1793) started a focus on walking/running for six days and is recognized as the “Father of the Six-Day Race.” In 1773, Powell caused a great stir when he walked and ran about 400 miles from London to York and back in less than six days. “Walking” in those very early days was a general term. These pioneer ultrarunners of the late 1700s and early 1800s actually performed a “jog-trot,” or a mixture of walking and running. There was no emphasis yet on “fair heel-toe” walking. Powell established a six-day standard that would be remembered for decades. Nearly all six-day attempts in the decades that followed pointed their efforts to Powell's previous accomplishments. Dozens attempted to match or improve on his feat. By 1779, Powell was the first long-distance runner who was referred to as a “pedestrian” performing the art of “pedestrianism.” That term took hold in England and eventually referenced competitions on foot for all distances, even sprints. Pedestrianism came into the American public eye as Edward Payson Weston (1839-1929) of Providence, Rhode Island, made several attempts in 1874 to walk 500 miles in six days. P. T. Barnum (1810-1891), of circus fame, had the brilliant idea to move such attempts indoors for vast audiences to watch, in his massive Hippodrome in New York City. In 1875, Barnum put on the first six-day race in history, won by Weston with 431 miles. In these races, the winner was the athlete who reached the furthest distance within six days. During the late 1870s, this new reality show of indoor six-day races exploded across America. People of all classes became fascinated by the competition, drama, and human tragedy that could be witnessed during these events. Spectators would usually pay 25 cents per day to enter smoke-filled arenas and city halls to cheer and wager on their favorite runner. In only a few years, pedestrianism became the number one spectator sport in America. Onlookers would watch walkers and runners circle indoor tracks for days, secretly hoping to witness suffering, fainting, and even fistfights like modern-day hockey matches. Indeed, pedestrianism was like the modern-day reality shows that addicts television viewers today,
Its a dance party, a rave, and ofcourse a Brawl! www.RollMonger.com Pathfinder 2nd Edition Wild West /Steam Punk/ Restricted Magics of the Mana wastes in the City Of ALKENSTAR! Join Host/GM Jeff Ball Cast Members: Joeseph Davis Andrew Malburg Troy Phillips Eric Sauv'e Cameo Aiden Williams In a wild rotten tooten shooten adventure of revenge and lawless firepower under a desert sun in a steam punk driven city of next to no magic! www.twitch.tv/GMsCut (LIVE eps Monday or WED by 8:30PM est www.TeeSpring.com/RollMongers for Merch! www.Patreon.com/RollMongers Sponsored By "Fantasy Grounds" Links: Fantasy Grounds: http://www.fantasygrounds.com Fantasy Grounds Forums: http://www.fantasygrounds.com/community/ Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/fantasygrounds Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/+Fantasygroun... Twitter: www.twitter.com/fantasygrounds2 Also Thanks to our new sponsor "Devin Night" for providing use with all his art work minis with the folks at Fantasy Grounds to use here! https://immortalnights.com/tokensite/ Music: Special Outro Colonel Bogey March Whistle John Williams Boston Pop orchestra Epic Cinematic Music - Last Warrior - Royalty Free Epic Music Channel Western Music - Dar Golan www.TabletopAudio.com Tabletop audio.com Testing Chamber Crossroads Wild west saloon Alchemy lab Arcane clockworks ARCANE ANTHEMS COMBAT MUSIC: "Know your enemy" "The Indomitable" "Haill of Thorns" "Death Strike" "Turn The tide" "Misdirection" "Tyrants Tower" "Light The Streets" Coreys Character Theme "Grim Harvest" https://www.patreon.com/arcaneanthems/posts?filters[tag]=combat Tabletop Audio battle music A clash of Kings Cotton Club Wild West Saloon Victorian London SlumsSuperHero Skirmish Endgame Battle of the Amazons Unto The Breach Ghost Town Police Academy - 'Blue Oyster' Bar Music (Jean-Marc Dompierre "El Bimbo" ) Rossini's famous beginning of "The William Tell Overture." "Tafi Maradi" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/b... "Slow Heat" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/b... "Digya" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/b... "Kumasi Groove" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/b... "Monkoto" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/b...
Welcome to The Weekly Sceptic, episode 67, the second ever Weekly Sceptic Live! We had an amazing sold out show at Lola's, at the Hippodrome in Leicester Square (the audio doesn't capture the largeness of the crowd, but trust us, they were there, and they loved it). This week: -Nigel Farage leaves the jungle as […]
Welcome to The Weekly Sceptic, episode 67, the second ever Weekly Sceptic Live! We had an amazing sold out show at Lola's, at the Hippodrome in Leicester Square (the audio doesn't capture the largeness of the crowd, but trust us, they were there, and they loved it). This week: -Nigel Farage leaves the jungle as a conquering hero, despite only making it to 3rd place -Following Robert Jenrick's resignation, we discuss Rishi Sunak's future -A BBC presenter gives us all the finger (this time literally) -Boris Johnson faces the kangaroo court of the Covid Inquiry -Joey Barton has some strong opinions about female commentators, and Japanese business strategies -We discuss the viral ‘DINKs' phenomenon -Alex Jones is reinstated on X, and immediately does a ‘space' with Elon Musk, Vivek Ramaswamy, and Andrew Tate(!) -America's elite universities show themselves up as woke cesspools by failing to condemn extreme antisemitism Plus Peak Woke, an audience Q & A, and loads more, in what was a hilarious and very special live show! All sponsored by: CAR26 http://Car26.org With additional sponsorship from: Thor Holt: https://www.linkedin.com/in/thorholt WhatsApp: 07906 321593 To advertise to our large and discerning audience (1 million downloads and counting!), drop Toby a line: thedailysceptic@gmail.com Listen to Nick's podcast – The Current Thing – by going here: https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/the-current-thing/id1671573905 Subscribe to Nick's Substack here: https://nickdixon.substack.com Help Nick keep both of his podcasts going by buying a coffee here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/nickdixon Music by Tinderella Produced by Jason Clift
It's time for another visit with Midday theater critic J. Wynn Rousuck, who joins us each week with her reviews of the Maryland, DC and Virginia regional stage. We talk about The Hippodrome Theatre's production of Moulin Rouge, on stage through Dec. 17Email us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
Theater critic J. Wynn Rousuck reviews "Funny Girl" at the Hippodrome Theatre. The show is a sweet comedy about a young girl who dreams of life on the Broadway stage. “Funny Girl” continues at the Hippodrome through Sunday, October 29.Email us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
It's time for another visit with Midday theater critic J. Wynn Rousuck, who joins us each week with her reviews of the Maryland, DC and Virginia regional stage. “The Wiz” has returned to Baltimore and continues at the Hippodrome through Sunday. We spoke to the director, Schele Williams, and Ron Legler, president of the Hippodrome, about the show last week. Our theatre critic shares her thoughts on the musical's highly anticipated return to the magical land of Oz.Email us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
The Tony-Award winning musical "The Wiz" is returning to Broadway. The classic tale of Dorothy and her friends Lion, Tinman and Scarecrow easing down the road to meet the wizard is the first return to the stage in 40 years. This time, the yellow brick road starts in Baltimore with a pre-Broadway run at The Hippodrome Theare. Tom's guests to discuss the return of "The Wiz" are Ron Legler, the president of the France-Merrick Performing Arts Center, which includes the Hippodrome Theater and the show's director Schele Williams. Email us at midday@wypr.org, tweet us: @MiddayWYPR, or call us at 410-662-8780.
Our final batch of questions for this century includes queries about the Hippodrome, diplomatic marriages, national identity and political legitimacy. We also enjoy an update on the Crimea, the Jewish communities of Byzantium and the Varangian Guard. I also talk about the perception of time and rank some dynasties. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Read the full story of Frank Hart in my new book: Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star By 1888, Hart had competed in about 30 six-day races in nine years. He had reached 100 miles or more in about 40 races and had so far won at least 30 ultras. Perhaps because of his color, he had not been given enough credit as being a dominant champion during his career. There certainly were some who were better six-day pedestrians, but he was at least in the top-10 of his era. Racist labels against blacks such has “laziness” were often heaped on him, which bothered him terribly. He worked very hard. How could anyone who competed in six-day races be referred to as lazy? He did have a serious problem with his finances and likely had a gambling addiction. He looked for new ways to make money in the sport, including race organizing and had been criticized for not paying runners fairly. He was so mad at the reaction that he vowed that he was retiring from the sport. Get Davy Crockett's new book, Strange Running Tales: When Ultrarunning was a Reality Show. This book highlights the most bizarre, shocking, funny, and head-scratching true stories that took place in extreme long-distance running, mostly during a 30-year period that began about 1875. O'Brien's Six Day Race Hart's retirement did not last long. He entered the next big international six-day race held on May 7, 1888, in Madison Square Garden. For this race, 96 men entered and 44 started. One rejected runner claimed he could go 750 miles. In this race was, George Littlewood (1859-1912) of Sheffield, England, the world record holder for walking 531 miles in six days, reached 100 miles in less than 16 hours. After the first day, Hart was already more than 20 miles behind. On the morning of day two, after running 122 miles, in seventh place, Hart was said to look lazy and quit the race as he was falling in the standings. He realized that he would not finish in the money. Littlewood went on to win with 611 miles. Throughout 1888, Hart competed in several 75-hour races in New York, Connecticut, Delaware, and Pennsylvania, winning most of them, but earning less than hoped for. Feeling rejected by Boston, he now claimed to be from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Fox Diamond Belt Six Day Race Hart competed in the most historic six-day race in history, held November 26-December 1, 1888, in Madison Square Garden. There were 100 race entries, but they approved only 40 starters. Richard Kyle Fox (1846-1922), editor and publisher of the sporting publication, The Police Gazette, put it on. Leading up to the race, Hart trained at the Polo Grounds in Upper Manhattan each day “under the watchful eyes of trainers and admirers” with several other entrants, including Littlewood. It would be the last six-day race held in the original Madison Square Garden, previously called Gilmore's Garden, and P.T. Barnum's Hippodrome, made from an old train depot. The old building would begin to be demolished on August 7, 1889. It was located on the block that currently holds the New York Life Building. The Start Nearly 10,000 people filled the building for the start with 37 contestants. Through the first night, it became obvious why the building needed to be replaced. “The ring in the center of the garden looked as if it had been swept by a hurricane. Booths were overturned and the floor was flooded with melted snow, which had dropped through the crevices in the roof.” It didn't seem to bother Littlewood, who covered 77.4 miles in the first 12 hours. Original Madison Square Garden Hart was about 12 miles behind and struggled early. “Several doses of bug juice were taken, and the Haitian youth was wobbly in the legs, and his eyes rolled in a fine frenzy for some hours.” He covered 113 miles on day one, in 11th place. Again, racist comments were made by reporters that he was being lazy.
Catch-up with BMX pioneer and Hall of Famer, Byron Friday. Byron was truly at the start of BMX in the early 70s, rode and worked for iconic brands over the decades and even went to school with motocross legend Johnny O'Mara. Byron talks aboutbtraveling to Holland in the 80s to stay with Gerrit Does (the Godfather of European BMX), going to England to ride and conduct training schools at Iswich, hanging out with Craig Schofield, partying at the Hippodrome, drinking pints of Lager and Lime in London's King Road. I share about my time staying with Byron in LA when I first moved to the US full time in the 90s, doing gates with Byron, Greg Hill and Harry Leary at Greg's house and riding in Greg's backyard and the local LA trails. Byron touches on the early days in mountain bikes, riding with John Tomac, racing Norba's and working for Mountain Bike Action as mountain biking was blowing up. Byron also chats about a lot of the early day photographers and behind-the-scenes in both BMX and mountain bikes, Cherie Currie lead vocalist of The Runaways, Dirty Fest and more.
No one knows when Emperor Constantine installed the gilded Triumphal Quadriga sculpture in his new capital city, Constantinople, near the triumphal arch which led to the Hippodrome. How it got to Constantinople has been lost to the ages, and, so is its origin story. What we do know is these four horses have traveled from Chios to Constantinople; to Venice, Paris, and back to Venice again, with some interesting stops along the way. This sculpture is best known as The Horses of St. Mark's, and what we do know about it begins after it was stolen during the Sack of Constantinople, in April of 1204.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.