Chained to the Barbarian

by Carol Townend

  He could see her in his mind, grey eyes softening as she offered him the Venetian glass, mouth curving in a shy smile.

  ‘Merde!’ William braced himself and stepped back into the avenue.

  He took a deep breath and before he had drawn the next, Lady Anna flew out of the head of the alley. Her breast was heaving, her fingers were clenched white on her blue skirts, holding them clear of the ground. Her veil had gone and her hair was streaming out behind her like a dark pennon. One foot was shoeless, William had time to register the disturbing vulnerability of bare toes before the men who were after her appeared.

  Mercenaries. Three of them, howling like wolves. Predators. The uniform was unknown to him, but their eyes told William all he needed to know. These men were not fixed on any coming battle, they were focused on taking their prey. There was no doubt that rape was large in their minds.

  Another scream came from the alley behind the building. Likely some other poor woman was being accosted by more of these devils. He prayed it was not the Princess.

  William renewed his grip on the sword, the mercenaries halted and exchanged grins. They might as well have spoken aloud—they outnumbered him, they thought him easy meat.

  ‘That would be a mistake,’ William said softly.

  There was movement behind him. Not Lady Anna. She had stopped mid-flight in front of the monument, her breath coming in shuddering gasps. Cold anger burned in William’s guts.

  He was woefully out of condition—his chest ached, his sword arm throbbed and it was one man against three. There was a chance he might prevail, but it was small.

  The soldiers hesitated and William caught a whiff of soured wine.

  They have been drinking. Good. That evens the odds a little…

  As he summoned the strength to make the first move, William felt the walls of Constantinople close in on him. Picking out the lead mercenary, he raised his sword.

  Oddly, the mercenary wasn’t concentrating on William, he was looking past him. When his leer faded, William realised that something other than Lady Anna had distracted him.

  Behind him, a harsh voice bellowed, ‘Lady Anna! This way!’

  Briefly, wary of losing sight of the mercenaries, William looked over his shoulder. A Varangian had appeared, it was the man who had emerged from Princess Theodora’s bedchamber, the man he had seen in her company at the slave market. Commander Ashfirth.

  The Commander unhooked his battleaxe and gestured Lady Anna towards him. The battleaxe glinted.

  Lady Anna stumbled towards him. ‘Commander! Thank God!’

  William held steady in the centre of the avenue. They will not have her, they will have to step over my body to reach her.

  The mercenaries’ swords wavered. One of them took a step back.

  Stay with the Commander, my lady. Be safe.

  The lead mercenary spat. Another swore in a language that William did not understand. There was another backwards step, and another, and moments later all three had melted into the street round the corner of the building.

  Warily, William turned. Lady Anna’s hair was tumbled down about her shoulders, she had lost her hair pins as well as her veil, but thank God he could see no bruises.

  ‘My lady—’ Commander Ashfirth was frowning down the side street ‘—where is Katerina?’

  Katerina? Who the devil is Katerina?

  Lady Anna’s mouth opened and shut, and the Commander gave her a little shake. ‘My lady?’

  ‘You…you know?’ Lady Anna said, all colour leached from her face.

  The Commander nodded and shook her again. ‘The time for pretence is over. Where is Katerina?’

  William frowned and stepped closer, he did not like the way the Commander was handling her. And why was he asking about Katerina? Surely he should be worried about the Princess? If William had guessed correctly, this man was the Princess’s lover. Who was Katerina?

  Lady Anna met William’s gaze. ‘She is safe. In Hagia Irene.’

  ‘Thank God!’ The Commander’s relief was obvious. He looked at William. ‘You there, slave!’

  William did not lower his guard. ‘Yes?’

  ‘You will look after Lady Anna?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Time is short,’ the Commander said.

  ‘I understand.’ Lady Anna smiled at the Varangian. ‘You had to know she was safe.’

  Commander Ashfirth nodded. ‘Do you trust this Frank?’

  Lady Anna and William looked at one another.

  ‘I will be safe with him,’ Lady Anna said, her gaze flickering briefly to William’s sword. ‘Go back to your men, Commander.’

  The Commander gazed coolly at William. ‘You are to protect Lady Anna with your life. Take her back to the women’s quarters in the Palace. Understand?’

  Nodding, William held out his hand. ‘I understand.’

  Lady Anna moved towards him and Commander Ashfirth turned and sprinted round the monument towards his men.

  The sunlight shone in Lady Anna’s hair, it was glorious in its disarray. Her hand when it met William’s was trembling and her breath was shaky, but she was safe.

  Another whoop came from the side street, it was followed by the unmistakable sound of swords being banged on shields. Scare tactics. Lord, it looked as though Lady Anna was not quite as safe as William had hoped.

  Her hand jerked free and she pointed. ‘Look!’

  Two of the mercenaries had returned, they were marching towards them, screeching like demons as they beat their sword hilts on their shields.

  ‘Holy Mother!’ Bundling Lady Anna behind him, William braced himself.

  With only two mercenaries, the odds were turning in his favour.

  The mercenaries nodded at each other, it must have been a signal, because one of them rushed at him headlong. He was over-confident and had little finesse. A butcher. As their swords clashed, the jolt sent black pain shooting up William’s arm. He grunted and parried the next stroke easily. He might be out of condition, but they had barely engaged and already the mercenary was breathing hard. Too much wine, William suspected. Too much chasing after innocent women.

  He parried half-a-dozen more strokes, feeling his way into the man’s weaknesses, of which there were many. The other mercenary must be as drunk as the butcher, for he made no move to come to his comrade’s aid, instead, each slash of the butcher’s sword was accompanied with an unholy whoop and a thud on his shield. The strokes were wild, uneven. Slice, crash, hack, crash—like beats in in a devil’s chorus.

  It took only moments for William to begin to enjoy himself. It had been too long since he had held a sword and it was invigorating to realise that he had not lost his touch. This man was not his match. William was just through the warming-up stage—he no longer felt shooting pains with each clash of steel—when the mercenary overreached himself. William made a swift, decisive thrust and the man clattered to the ground. His shield rolled to the side, blood seeped across the paving.

  Behind him, Lady Anna whimpered and the devil’s chorus fell silent. The second mercenary stared at his comrade, eyes bulging.

  William picked up the shield and beckoned. ‘Come on, don’t be shy, it’s your turn. I could use more practise.’

  The man had eyes as dead as his comrade’s. His lip curled, he muttered something incomprehensible and retreated back the way he had come.

  There was movement behind him. ‘I…I thank you, William.’ Lady Anna’s cheeks were bloodless, she looked to be in shock as she watched him clean his sword on the dead man’s chausses. It was a pity she had had to witness death at close hand, but William had had no choice.

  ‘Come, my lady, we must hurry, there may be other mercenaries about. Which way?’ That terrible screaming had started again, William gritted his teeth. ‘Which way?’

  Her smoky grey eyes were wide with alarm. ‘Do you think he went for reinforcements?’

  ‘It is possible. Which way?’

  She seemed held by panic and waved vagu
ely at the wall of the Great Palace. The domes of the Palace buildings were visible behind it. ‘The Palace is too far, we might not make it.’

  Shaking his head, William slung the mercenary’s shield over his shoulder. With the sword firmly in one hand, he took hers in the other. Tugging her after him, he ducked behind the myrtle bushes and ran along the side of the building. The myrtle bushes were good cover. He stopped abruptly at the corner. A small structure resembling a storehouse stood a few feet away. There was no window, just a stumpy wooden door with fat hinges. He frowned doubtfully at it. It could almost be a prison cell.

  Releasing Lady Anna, he handed her the shield and shouldered open the door. Inside, it was dark as night, he could see nothing. Behind them came the tramp of heavy boots.

  ‘William!’

  With a final glance at the sky, William bent his head and pulled her into the dark. Prison or not, this was the only hiding place. He had to be realistic. He could not fight an entire troop—if he were killed, who would protect Lady Anna?

  It was ice cold inside, in an instant his skin was covered in goosebumps. The dim outline of a great cavern opened up before them, it was large enough to house a cathedral. William halted, staring in disbelief. He could smell water.

  A small hand found his. ‘See, William, the steps?’

  As his eyes adjusted, he followed Lady Anna’s pointing finger. A few yards ahead, a flight of steps fell into the gloom. Several feet lower down something sparked briefly, like a firefly. He caught sight of a vast stone column—no, a long line of them, marching into the murk, a legion of silent sentinels. There was another shadowy line of columns, and another, seemingly an entire army. The poor light made it impossible to see how many there were or how far they went. It was like staring into the hall of an underworld king.

  ‘I see the steps.’ Sensing that panic held her, he made his voice firm. ‘Remember where they are, we are going down without a torch.’

  Out in the streets, a bloodcurdling shout lifted the hairs of the back of his neck. Just out of sight, the wolves were circling.

  ‘Memorise the steps, my lady.’ It was pitch black. Cold. It reminded him of the dungeons at Melfi. Taking the shield, he leaned past her and pushed the door shut. The darkness swallowed her. ‘Stand still a moment,’ he said, wedging the door with the shield.

  ‘William?’

  ‘I am ensuring no one will follow us. I don’t believe we were seen, but…we cannot be too careful.’ He found her hand again. ‘The wall on your right will guide you,’ he added, tugging her on.

  The walls were slippery with damp, the air smelt…

  ‘River,’ he murmured. ‘This place smells of river.’

  Her small hand gripped his with surprising strength. Not wanting her to trip on her skirts, he took his time in the descent. It was like going down into Hades, it was bone-chillingly cold. He could do with a wool tunic, a padded gambeson…

  ‘The water has been channelled here from the river,’ she said, her voice sounding calmer. ‘We are in the

  Basilica Cistern.’

  ‘The Basilica Cistern?’

  ‘Emperor Justinian built it so the Palace would have a permanent supply of fresh water.’

  ‘Justinian? Surely that was centuries ago?’

  ‘His cistern still feeds water into the Great Palace.’

  Feeling with his feet, William groped on down. The sword scraped the wall, without a scabbard it presented something of a hazard, but he wasn’t about to set it aside. If someone did manage to corner them down here, he would need it.

  His instincts were shrieking at him, be wary, be wary. Was this a dead end? ‘My lady, is there another way out?’

  ‘If there is, I don’t know it. This is the first time I have come down here. I recall being told there’s a platform at the bottom.’

  ‘Good. We can take refuge there, it will be out of sight of anyone who forces their way past that shield.’

  ‘So we wait in the dark?’

  He pulled her on, the warmth of her fingers was the only warmth in this dank Hades. ‘Until we judge it safe to come out, I am afraid that we must.’

  An image of the Varangians lined up in the square overhead flashed through William’s mind.

  ‘It looked as though there might be fighting,’ she said, evidently following the train of his thoughts.

  ‘Yes, we might have to wait until the dust has settled.’

  ‘That…that could take some time.’

  He felt a burst of regret. Why did she have to leave the Palace today of all days? If it were not for her, I would be at the port by now, boarding a ship for Apulia.

  William could hear her breathing, he could hear his breathing, he could hear the soft whisper of silk as she came down the steps after him. He heard a splash and froze.

  ‘That must be a fish.’

  ‘There are fish down here?’ Lord, what a place.

  They fumbled on. So dark. So cold. He reached the last step and turned. Anna walked into him. His nose was briefly buried in hair that smelt tantalisingly of jasmine and spices. Persephone in the kingdom of Hades.

  ‘My apologies.’ He took his time drawing back, drawn to her warmth in this realm of cold and dark. The flowery fragrance sent tendrils deep into his mind. ‘The steps have ended, this must be the platform,’ he said, releasing her. ‘We can go no farther, unless you have a mind to swim.’

  ‘I wish we could see. How large do you think the platform is?’

  ‘I am not sure. I am hoping it is at least a few feet wide. I take it there’s something like a lake down here.’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘How deep is it?’

  ‘I do not know.’

  If only they could see…

  Manoeuvring her to the wall where she would be safest, William wrapped her fingers round the hilt of the sword. ‘Hold this, if you please. Be careful, I don’t want you to cut yourself.’ He dropped to his knees.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Learning how much space we have before the water…ah! We shall be safe here, my lady, we have a couple of yards each way.’

  The platform seemed to be made of wooden slats. The wall of the cistern and the steps rose up on one side, the other three sides led nowhere. About them came a constant drip, drip, drip of water.

  Ensuring he kept himself between Lady Anna and the water, William found his way back to her and slid his hand down her arm till he found the sword. ‘I’ll take this.’ Sinking to a sitting position against the wall, he pulled her down beside him. ‘Since we are likely to be here for some while, we may as well take our ease. It’s a pity I didn’t have time to take the scabbard.’

  ‘Where did you find the sword? What are you doing out of the Palace?’

  William cleared his throat. He still had hold of her hand and he intended to keep it unless she made an objection, she would be safer if he knew her exact whereabouts. ‘Its previous owner didn’t keep good care of it, so I thought I would spare him the trouble.’

  ‘You stole it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You…did you kill to get it?’

  William listened carefully to her tone in order to gauge her feelings. Was she angry at him for attempting to escape her? She had seen him kill—did she fear him?

  ‘No, but the guard will have a thick head for a time.’

  ‘William?’

  ‘My lady?’

  ‘It is a terrible thing to see a man killed.’ Her voice broke, he heard her swallow.

  Putting his arm about her, William drew her to him. ‘I did not do it lightly, my lady. Killing is never something to be undertaken lightly.’

  ‘I know.’ She leaned against him and he heard a small sniff. ‘It is a terrible thing.’

  ‘Don’t waste your pity, that mercenary would not have given you, or me, a second thought.’

  ‘I suppose not.’ She sighed and, after a few moments, lifted her head. Delicate fingers touched his chest. ‘Holy Mother, Wil
liam, you are frozen! Here, have this.’

  There was a rustling and some fabric was pushed at him. Her cloak.

  ‘No, my lady, you need it.’

  ‘But you have no tunic!’

  ‘We shall be warmer together, so with your permission, we shall share it.’

  ‘Very well.’

  ‘Here…’ Draping her cloak about them—it was a satisfyingly heavy cloak that felt as though it was lined with wool—William settled his arm about her. The light scent of jasmine filled the air.

  ‘How did you escape the Palace, William?’

  ‘The bathhouse windows were…insecure.’

  ‘The bathhouse windows? Well, you chose a good day to make your move. Everyone is preoccupied with…’ She trailed to a halt.

  ‘General Alexios?’

  ‘You’ve heard about him?’

  He shrugged into the dark. ‘A little. I do know the Varangian Guard would not be deployed in that square for nothing.’

  ‘No.’ She sighed. ‘You were running away, so you don’t trust me. I thought you understood, I have no intention of keeping you. As far as I am concerned, you are a free man.’

  ‘You expect something from me, you admitted as much.’

  ‘As to that, it is…a delicate matter. I am hoping to resolve it without you, in which case you will be freed unconditionally.’

  William said nothing. Words came cheap, life had taught him as much. Several gold coins had exchanged hands for him at the slave market. Yes, words came cheap, but he had not. How likely was it that a slave would be bought and freed without having to do something in return?

  It was black as pitch in the Basilica Cistern and William could not see, but he could feel Lady Anna’s grey eyes on him. They would be earnest, open, honest.

  ‘Lady Anna, I would like to believe you but…’ even to his own ears he sounded cynical ‘…I have lost faith in my fellows.’

  Warm fingers found his forearm, squeezing him in what he knew was intended as a gesture of comfort. ‘William, you shall be freed. I would prefer that you stay, but after what you have done for me, if you choose to leave the City later today, I swear I will not send anyone after you.’