Читать книгу Bound to the Barbarian - Carol Townend, Carol Townend - Страница 8

‘I must pretend to be you?’ Katerina’s jaw dropped. ‘My lady, you are not serious!’

‘I regret to say that I am.’ Princess Theodora glanced pointedly at the infant in Lady Sophia’s lap. The Princess’s tone intensified, the words tumbling out. ‘My time with my daughter is likely to be short. You must forgive me, Katerina, but I am desperate to be with her as long as I may.’

Hurrying to one of the travelling chests, the Princess pushed back the lid and leaned it against the wall. She reached inside and sent a stream of silks and satins flying towards her pallet: first came her favourite pink gown, the one with the silver embroidery at the neck and hem; next came the blue one made from finest English wool; then the brown silk, which shimmered with silver threads when she walked; the cream one with green acanthus leaves embroidered at the hem; the delicate green with pearl-encrusted cuffs.

Several veils floated through the air and settled on the gowns: the deep purple one that was reserved for important ceremonies because only members of the Imperial family were entitled to wear purple; the cream; the grey; the yellow …

‘Despoina?’

The Princess whirled and grabbed Katerina’s hand. ‘Here, these will suit you. What a blessing we are similar in height and build. Do you like them?’

Do you like them?

Katerina’s insides turned to water. The Princess means this! The Princess really means this!

Princess Theodora’s eyes were bright and intense, her jaw was set. She looked so determined, she seemed not to have noticed that Katerina had reservations, that sheer terror was a breath away. That, or she was choosing to ignore it. The Princess wanted more time with her baby daughter, which was perfectly natural. Princess Theodora was not the first princess to anticipate her wedding night; she was not the first princess to bear a child before she was married. Unfortunately, it seemed likely that little Martina would be taken from her the moment she set foot in Constantinople.

In preparation for her forthcoming marriage, all evidence of Princess Theodora’s transgression would be swept away.

Heart full, helpless in the face of the Princess’s pain, Katerina watched her mistress turn to another of the iron-bound chests and dip into that. A pair of kid shoes landed on the bed; some short riding boots; sandals; purple slippers …

Katerina’s heart sank when she saw the purple slippers. ‘Despoina?’

‘Mmm?’

Katerina extracted the purple veil and matching slippers from the rapidly growing pile and held them out. ‘I can never wear these. You know it is forbidden. Ordinary people just cannot wear purple! I was not born in the Great Palace. I am not remotely related to the Emperor. What would happen to a slave who did such a thing?’

‘I gave you your freedom some time ago, Katerina.’

‘That does not alter the fact that I am just a poor girl from one of the islands. Surely any offence would be compounded if someone like me committed it? I could be beheaded—’

‘Nonsense!’ Princess Theodora drew herself up, her eyes looked haughty even while her mouth was trembling. ‘I will see that no harm comes to you. I cannot force you, you are a free woman now. But if you do consent to take my place, Katerina, I will write a letter exonerating you from all blame. It will be made quite clear that you are acting under orders, my orders.’

A shadow fell over them, Lady Anna was standing in the doorway.

‘Not now, Anna.’ The Princess waved her away.

Lady Anna ducked back outside and the light strengthened.

Princess Theodora drew in a breath and took the purple slippers and veil. Pointedly, she replaced them on the pile. ‘Katerina, you said you wished to repay me for releasing you from servitude. Here is your chance.’

‘Yes, but…but…to impersonate you! Despoina, I could never carry it off!’

‘Of course you could.’ The Princess turned Katerina’s hands palm up. ‘When I bought you, your hands were work-worn, your nails broken. See how they have healed, you have the hands of a lady now.’

‘But—’

‘Think. You have learned our ways. I taught you to read. You can even write—’

Katerina let out a short laugh. ‘Only my name!’

‘That is enough to convince, particularly since most ladies cannot even read.’ The Princess glanced at her sleeping daughter. ‘Besides, if you agree to help me, I can offer you real freedom.’

‘Real freedom?’

‘I will give you a grant of land in…where did you say you came from?’

‘Crete.’ There was a lump in Katerina’s throat. She swallowed hard. She was not certain she wanted to set eyes on Crete again and had opened her mouth to say as much, but the Princess was unstoppable …

‘Crete it is then. I shall give you a grant of land in Crete. And gold. And since your time with us has turned you into a lady in all but name, I will also find you a noble husband, if you so wish. Katerina, I know it is no light thing that I ask of you.’ She gave a great sigh. ‘But perhaps you have changed your mind about wishing to help me.’

‘No…but …’

The Princess fell to her knees.

Katerina blinked. Lady Sophia stared. Princess Theodora, niece to the Emperor, was on her knees before her body-servant.

‘Katerina, I beg you, I implore you! Take my place, let Commander Ash…what was his name?’

‘Ashfirth Saxon.’

‘Let him escort you to Constantinople. Give me a month, pretend to be me for a month or two, that is all that I ask. I will try to wean her…and…and another couple of months will give me more time to get used to the thought of losing her. Please, Katerina?’

‘Despoina, do you really think matters will be easier two months from now? I am afraid you are merely delaying the inevitable.’

‘I need more time with her! Please, Katerina, if you had a child, you would understand. Go with the Commander. Please.’

For a moment Katerina could feel the penetrating blue eyes of Commander Ashfirth boring into her. ‘But…but he is a barbarian!’

The Princess’s expression softened. ‘Not all barbarians are cast in the same mould as Vukan, Katerina.’

‘Yes, I understand that. But the Commander will soon realise that I am no princess. My speech…it…it is not that of a lady.’

Her mistress shook her head. ‘It may not have been when you joined us, but it is now. Besides, he mistook you at the gate.’

‘It is one thing to mistake someone who is speaking through a grille and quite another to embark on a journey with them and not discover their true nature. The Commander will find me out and…and …’

‘He is a foreigner, as you have pointed out. A barbarian’s ear will not be finely tuned to the nuances of our language. He will not find you out.’ Rising, Princess Theodora shook out her skirts. ‘You have a quick mind. If you think about it, you will realise that you already know how to be me.’ Her eyes grew warm. ‘You have been my servant for…how long?’

‘Two years, my lady.’

‘That is quite long enough for you to have learned my mannerisms. As I said, we are similar in looks and colouring.’

‘But…but—he said you are summoned to the Great Palace in Constantinople, I have never set foot there! If by some miracle I were to reach it undiscovered, it would become obvious at once that the Palace is unknown to me.’

Princess Theodora frowned. ‘Ye…es, I see, that is a good point.’ Her brow cleared. ‘I know! You shall take several of my ladies with you. No one will think twice about the Princess travelling with her ladies-in-waiting, indeed, it will be expected. I shall make certain that Lady Anna is among them—she knows the Palace better than anyone. On the journey, she can describe it to you. She knows whom you will be likely to meet, she knows palace protocols, and—’

Palace protocols. Katerina was beginning to feel more than a little queasy. She wanted to help the Princess, but this …!

She shook her head. ‘My lady, it won’t do. What if I were summoned to meet the Emperor? He would know at once that I am an impostor.’

Her mistress gave a sad smile. ‘My real uncle, if you remember, was supplanted and put in a monastery. This Emperor has never met me.’

‘But didn’t he marry Emperor Michael’s wife? Surely she will realise—’

The Princess made a dismissive gesture. ‘Katerina, it is ten years since I was last at the palace, I was a child. No one will know that you are not me, I promise you.’ She smiled and clasped her hands together. ‘I would not ask you to do this if I thought there was any danger for you. I am sure Commander Ashfirth will treat you courteously, everything will be fine. A few weeks, Katerina, that is all I ask, a few weeks. Martina will be stronger then. And think, you will have riches and a grant of land.’

‘If I survive. Surely it must be dangerous?’

‘As I said, you shall carry letters, which will exonerate you if this turns out badly. I have grown fond of you, you must know I would not have you suffer.’ She looked towards the doorway, and raised her voice. ‘Anna, are you out there?’

The doorway darkened. ‘Despoina?’

‘See if there is a scribe to be found in the convent. If not, find me ink and parchment.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

Princess Theodora looked intently at her. ‘Don’t worry, Katerina. You shall take your orders with you. And we have a good two hours to transform you into a princess.’

Two hours. Katerina stared at the purple slippers and then at baby Martina. Her palms felt sticky. It was all very well for the Princess to assume that her letters would be taken as gospel, but in Katerina’s experience men who were deceived did not take kindly to those who deceived them. A pair of penetrating blue eyes flashed into her mind. And the first person she would have to convince was none other than the Commander of the Varangian Guard. Saint Titus, help me.

‘Katerina, I am relying on you. A few weeks, once you have reached the Palace. That is all that I ask, just a few weeks.’

While he waited for the two hours to pass, Ashfirth walked with Brand to the top of the hill. His leg had had enough of riding, instinct was telling him that it needed this different form of exercise or it would stiffen up, perhaps permanently. They had spent too long at sea.

They stopped just short of the summit. A little way below them lay the convent with its crumbling walls and vegetable garden. Next to it, a small orchard was bursting into life, there were green shoots everywhere. The wind ruffled Ashfirth’s hair; it had broken up the clouds and was pushing them across the sky—white sails scudding across blue. A gust caught the fruit trees and the branches waved.

Past the convent and orchard, the hillside sloped more steeply, it was thickly covered in bushes and scrub as it ran down to the sea. The sea was choppy, the waves flecked with foam. In the deeper waters, a striped red-and-white sail was slowly progressing from west to east in the same direction their ship would follow.

‘Brand, is that a Greek vessel?’

‘Can’t say at this distance, sir. It might be, but it could just as easily be Norman.’

‘That is my fear.’ Ashfirth heaved a sigh. There seemed to be rather too much Norman activity in these waters—the Emperor’s rule here was definitely under threat. He must make a report to that effect when they returned. ‘We will have to be circumspect.’

The port—and their own ships—lay at the end of a promontory that was bordered on one side by sea and on the other by salt marshes.

‘Do you think the Princess will make difficulties, sir?’

Those soft brown eyes came into Ashfirth’s mind and he shook his head. ‘She will know she cannot run for ever. By the time the month turns, Princess Theodora will be safely where she belongs, in the women’s quarters of the Great Palace.’

Brand gave him a straight look. ‘Before we left, people were muttering—taxes, rising prices. Are you expecting trouble when we get back, Commander?’

Ashfirth hesitated. His loyalty was to the Emperor, but he did not believe in keeping his men in the dark. And Brand spoke no less than the truth—when they left Constantinople, several disturbing rumours had been doing the rounds.

‘Rising prices are the least of it,’ he said. ‘There are those in the army talking of acclaiming a rival emperor.’

‘General Alexios Komnenos?’

‘The same.’ In Ashfirth’s private opinion, General Alexios would make a far better emperor than Nikephoros, who had grown old overnight and who seemed to have given up on government. The Empire needed a firm hand, particularly—Ash scowled at the red-and-white sails across the water—with so many Normans nibbling away at the boundaries.

‘General Alexios is not the only pretender to the throne, ‘ Brand said.

‘Apparently not. One way or another, a storm is looming.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Brand considered. ‘Rioting?’

Ashfirth grimaced. ‘It is possible.’ The price of wheat in the city had risen to such an extent that many were unable to afford it. Time was when the Emperor had handed out bread free to those who had need of it, but that had been years ago. The current Emperor, shut up in his palace, was blind to the needs of his citizens and his unpopularity was growing by the day. ‘Whatever happens our duty is clear. We are not there to control the populace, we serve the Emperor.’

And pray that he heeds the contents of my report. Ash wanted no repetition of the shocking incident that had taken place a couple of years ago, when a band of infuriated Varangians had actually attacked the Emperor they were meant to be protecting. It had happened before Ash’s promotion, and he was determined there would be no repetition, not while he was Commander. But he was aware there were rumblings of discontent even within the Guard.

‘Yes, Commander. We obey the Emperor, our loyalty is only to him.’

Ash nodded, but in truth he longed to serve a man who commanded more respect. It was something of a surprise that Emperor Nikephoros had clung to power for so long. Particularly when there were others in the army who were far more able. Ash had to admit that General Alexios headed the list.

Alexios Komnenos came from the military aristocracy. At twenty-four, the General had already done ten years’ service in the army. His record was impeccable, he had never lost a battle. What an Emperor General Alexios might make!

Abruptly, Ashfirth shook his head to clear it of such a disloyal thought. The Commander of the Varangian Guard must serve the Emperor he was sworn to. And Ashfirth had taken an oath to protect Emperor Nikephoros.

Hell, trouble is coming and I am sworn to a man who does not command my respect. A man who has yet to heed my advice. Ashfirth gazed bleakly at the cross on the dome of the church. He had sworn a holy oath and he would not break it. Come what may, he was the Emperor’s man.

‘Brand, the sooner we get Princess Theodora to the Great Palace, the better.’

A couple of hours later, Ashfirth and Brand were sitting on a low wall opposite the convent gate, a loaf and a wineskin between them.

Eyeing the position of the sun, Ash tossed his bread aside. For this meeting with the Princess he had thought it polite to remove the trappings of a warrior and don the clothes of a courtier. He had put aside his mailcoat and leather gambeson and was wearing a blue linen tunic. His cross-gartered chausses were tucked into his riding boots.

The gate creaked and slowly opened. Ash exchanged startled glances with his captain.

Surely this could not be the Princess already? Heavens! A woman who is only a few minutes late? And she…aprincess…how extraordinary.

He strode over, brushing crumbs from his tunic.

She was standing in the midst of her ladies-in-waiting. Doe Eyes. Lord, so many ladies, a grand woman. She is not going to like being commanded.

She was not tall, the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Close to, her brown eyes were flecked with green lights. Ashfirth blinked. Something had changed. Her eyes were starkly outlined with some sort of black paint or cosmetic, he was confident they had not been before. The eyeliner made those beautiful eyes more noticeable. Oddly, the cosmetics had the effect of changing his perception of her. Before, he had received a fleeting impression of softness and vulnerability. It was not there now.

He was puzzling it out when those long lashes swept down. She had darkened her eyelashes, too, they appeared thicker and longer than when she had spoken to him through the convent grille. It was baffling how the cosmetics defined her eyes and drew his gaze, while at the same time they seemed to hide her. She looked mysterious and other worldly. Earlier, he had been conversing with a pretty young woman. Did she usually face the world from behind a painted mask?

Shame. I prefered the pretty woman.

But this, Ashfirth must remember, was the Princess, his opinion of her was irrelevant.

For her departure from St Mary’s, the rest of Princess Theodora’s face was almost entirely swathed in her veil. Her body was lost beneath the folds of a green silk cloak. She was slender, as far as he could judge, tiny and delicate. Gold glittered at her throat, in the threads of her veil, at her fingers and wrists.

‘Princess Theodora?’ Aware that he had been staring, Ashfirth bowed. Behind him, he could hear the men saluting, their coats of mail clinking.

‘Commander.’

He held out his hand. She would not like what he had to say. Ashfirth might have set aside his mailcoat, but he was painfully aware that he was no courtier to win her over with clever words. He would simply have to do his best.

Slim fingers lightly touched his. When he attempted to lead her away from her ladies, she pointedly withdrew her hand from his. It was not quite a snub, but it was close.

‘Despoina, will you walk this way? There are matters I would discuss with you.’

She gestured haughtily at one of the women. ‘Lady Anna, please attend me.’

Ashfirth cleared his throat. ‘My apologies, my lady, but what I have to say is for your ears alone.’

An arched brow lifted, the brown eyes searched his.

Ash found himself holding his breath. He was praying that she was not going to prove troublesome. He had his orders and he had hoped to execute them with courtesy—she was a princess—but after receiving a disturbing report in Dyrrachion this morning, he realised he might no longer have that luxury. If Princess Theodora became awkward, he might have to resort to force.

When she nodded, Ash breathed again.

‘Very well, Commander.’

She allowed him to lead her to one of the apple trees at the edge of the orchard. Her ladies remained by the convent gates, their silk veils fluttering in the breeze: pink, green, bronze. Bright as butterflies. One of the goats must have got into the convent again, Ashfirth could hear it bleating from over the wall. It sounded rather like a baby crying. The Princess must have heard it, too, because for a moment her attention wandered from him.

She sighed and then those dark, outlined eyes were looking expectantly at him. ‘Commander?’

‘Despoina, if you will forgive me, I must be blunt.’

‘Please, say what you must.’

Be courteous, she is a princess. Be tactful. Do not question her about her failure to respond to the Emperor’s letters.

‘When we arrived in Dyrrachion,’ Ash kept his voice low, confidential, ‘one of my troopers overheard a conversation in Norman French.’ He paused; she must be aware there had been Frankish incursions into Imperial territory in Apulia. She had been out of the Empire for some years, but surely even in Rascia word must have reached her about losses in Apulia?

She frowned, eyes bright and alert. Clever. She had heard. ‘You think they are spies, that the Normans have designs on Dyrrachion? How many were there?’

‘My men saw only two, my lady. We do not know what they are planning, but their presence here does concern me. Several Frankish ships have been sighted in these waters. It is vital we leave without fanfare, and because our Varangian galleys are so distinctive, I have reserved a Venetian merchantman for your use.’

Rings flashing, she waved at her entourage, at the pile of trunks and travelling chests that had been deposited next to her ladies-in-waiting. Brand was in their midst. Ash had asked him to discover which of the trunks belonged to the Princess so that they might be extracted from the rest, the baggage mules were waiting.

‘As you see, we are ready, Commander,’ she said, voice aloof.

Ashfirth cleared his throat and resisted the desire to shift the weight from his healing leg. ‘I am sorry to say this, my lady, but with your uncle’s enemies nearby, it is vital we leave as unobtrusively as possible.’

An immaculately plucked eyebrow rose.

‘It would not do—’ Ash pressed doggedly on ‘—for word to reach the Normans that the Emperor’s niece was seen boarding a ship bound for the capital.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Your entourage is too large. So many ladies are bound to attract attention.’

‘Commander, my ladies-in-waiting accompany me everywhere. Surely you are not telling me I cannot take my ladies…that…that I must travel alone with you?’ Her voice was high, incredulous.

Spoilt, of course. Used to getting her own way. A pang of something that felt surprisingly like disappointment shot through him. Spoilt. Ash held down a sigh and reminded himself that he was dealing with a member of the Imperial family. This woman had spent much of her life in a foreign court where a Greek princess was bound to have been seen as a rare treasure. Her every whim would have been granted. It had probably been years since she had been denied anything.

And Ash did not like the tone in which she had asked if she must travel alone with him—as though he were some kind of monster.

‘I am not saying that your ladies may not travel to Constantinople, despoina. All I am saying is that they may not travel on your ship. I would suggest that they follow us in the Varangian galley in a couple of days’ time. My captain, Brand, will accompany them. You need not concern yourself about their safety—Brand is my best man.’

Her chin inched up and her veil slipped to reveal a pretty mouth; it was set in a very determined line. ‘It is not their safety that concerns me.’

In the face of such arrogance, Ash could only stare. ‘My lady—’

‘I do not travel alone.’

The veil slipped a little further, and she drew it back over her face. It was then that he noticed her hand was trembling.

The Princess was nervous? When she glanced sideways at his men, Ash realised he was right—Princess Theodora was nervous.

He looked down at her dispassionately. Did his men frighten her? The Varangian Guard were famed the world over for being ruthless warriors, but she must know they would never harm her.

Hell, we came for her in full battle regalia. He had had no choice. To do otherwise, when Normans were hanging around the nearby port, would have been foolhardy in the extreme.

Ash became conscious of an unsettled feeling in his core and realised he was weakening towards her. It was likely that this woman never took a step without her ladies. Was he asking too much?

It was also becoming painfully clear that he was not as well equipped for executing this commission as he had hoped. His experience in dealing with princesses was non-existent. This was the first time he had addressed one face-to-face—if face-to-face was the right way to describe a conversation with someone so heavily veiled that most of her features were hidden. Be that as it may, he clearly could not expect her to travel alone with him. ‘You may choose one lady-in-waiting to come with you on the merchantman, ‘ he said.

Relief sprang into her eyes, the darkened lashes lowered. There was a pause, then.

‘Thank you.’

Then her lashes lifted and Ash felt a distinct jolt. He was taken by a most inappropriate urge to examine that pretty, determined mouth; it was a struggle to keep his eyes politely on hers.

‘And you say you plan to accompany me in the merchantman, Commander?’

‘Yes.’

‘As for my other ladies—can you assure me that they will follow in the Varangian galley?’

‘Indeed.’ Ash smiled, and offered her his arm. It was a relief when she laid her fingers on his sleeve. ‘From now on, we shall have to be careful how we address you.’

‘Oh?’

‘It is important that no one realises who you are.’

For some reason her eyes widened and she bit her lip. ‘I see.’

‘So with your permission, my lady, from this moment I shall refer to you simply as Lady Theodora. Will that be agreeable?’

‘I…yes.’

‘Which of your ladies will you choose to take with you?’

‘Lady Anna, I should like Lady Anna to accompany me.’

Ashfirth nodded and looked her up and down. ‘My lady, there is another matter I feel we should discuss before we leave. Your clothing.’

‘My clothing?’ A small hand stroked down her silken skirt. ‘What is wrong with my clothing?’

‘Can you ride in that gown? In that veil? Are they not too fine?’

Her doe eyes went wide. ‘Ride?’ She swallowed. ‘Commander, I. I do not ride.’

Ashfirth went stock-still. Behind that veil she had definitely lost colour. She cannot ride? Whoever heard of a princess who could not ride? Was she afraid of horses? And why the devil had no one thought fit to inform him of that fact? ‘You don’t ride?’

She glanced briefly towards her ladies, as though searching for help. Her chin inched up. ‘No, Commander, I do not.’

Swallowing a curse, Ash fought to keep his expression neutral and his tone polite. ‘I see. And what about Lady Anna—does Lady Anna ride?’

‘Yes, she has her own horse.’

‘But you do not.’

‘No.’

‘My lady, I do not wish to cause you undue alarm, but we ought to set out as soon as possible. And since the path down to the bridge is too precipitate to accommodate a cart or wagon, you will have to ride with me.’

She lifted her fingers from his arm, gold bracelets flashed. ‘You brought no litter?’

‘No. My lady, I do apologise, but you will have to ride with me.’