Commander Ashfirth bore her inexorably on. He swept her up the wide stairs, higher and higher until they stopped at an airy landing. ‘The women’s quarters, my lady.’
Katerina managed a nod. More marble, in every colour of the rainbow—purple, cream, green, ochre… They passed into a reception chamber that was large enough to house the entire population of her home village.
‘These are your apartments, I hope they meet with your approval.’
‘This is lovely, thank you,’ Katerina said, although the word ‘lovely’ scarcely did justice to the splendour in which she found herself. It was exactly as Anna had described, painted frescoes adorned the walls—birds and several unknown and exotic animals were frolicking amid the fountains of a pleasure garden. On one side of the reception chamber, the entire wall was taken up by a line of windows. The shutters were open and a dazzle of light fell into the room. Flimsy draperies hung from brass rods, billowing softly in the sea breeze. Skirts skimming silently across the smooth floor, Katerina went to the nearest window.
Directly below them, the stone lions and oxen cast stumpy shadows on the wharves of the Imperial Harbour. Beyond the harbour walls lay the Sea of Marmara; flocks of gulls were rocking on its silvery surface. There were several ships, and an exceptionally large galley with two banks of oars and a turret in its bow caught her eye. ‘There is much sea traffic,’ she said. The faint pulse of a drum reached her as the galley cut through the water towards a group of gulls. As the vessel bore down on them, the birds swirled into the sky like leaves in a gale. ‘Surely that ship is not a trader?’
There was movement behind her. Commander Ashfirth’s breath warmed her cheek as he leaned past her to see for himself.
‘That is a battle ship, my lady. A dromon.’
‘What do you think is happening?’
For once, that blue gaze was evasive. He looked troubled. ‘Of late there has been some…unrest in the city. I need to confer with officers who have been on duty here to discover how matters stand today. In my absence there may have been…developments. As soon as I know that these apartments meet with your approval, I must go straight to the barracks.’
‘They will suit me very well indeed, sir.’
The double door at the other end of the chamber opened and Anna came through. A line of men followed with the baggage, they were dressed identically in short tunics of plain bleached linen.
‘The bedchamber?’ Anna asked, looking at the Commander.
‘Through that door, I expect.’ He pointed. ‘The slaves will know where to go.’
Slaves.
Katerina’s heart twisted as she watched the men carry the baggage through the bedchamber door.
Slaves.
Her fingers tightened on the spray of flowers. ‘Commander?’
‘My lady?’
‘Are there many slaves in the Palace these days?’
‘Hundreds, if not thousands.’
Thousands…
‘And are they…are they well treated?’
‘Well treated?’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose they are as well treated here as anywhere. But I confess, I have never given it much thought. I do not own slaves myself, my lady.’
Katerina set the flowers on a narrow wall-table. More questions might rouse the Commander’s suspicions, but she could not help herself. Ever since the days of her personal slavery had ended, she had longed to do something to alleviate the plight of others. Most of them would have been enslaved through no fault of their own, as had happened in her case. Now at last her moment had come; she had arrived at the Palace and the Princess had given her the means to help at least some of them. She must act quickly, she might not be in this position for long…
She drew in a deep breath. ‘Do they beat slaves in the Great Palace when they make a mistake, do they whip them? Do they feed them well?’
The slaves emerged empty-handed from the bedchamber doorway; they bowed in Katerina’s direction and left the apartment.
‘Those fellows look strong and healthy enough to me,’ the Commander said. ‘Now, my lady, if you would excuse me…’
‘One moment, sir.’
‘My lady?’
Under her sleeve, Katerina fingered her bracelet. It wound several times round her wrist; its head and tail were that of a dolphin, and it had sapphires for eyes. Of all the gifts the Princess had given her, this was her favourite.
‘You may recall my saying that I would like to buy some slaves, sir, and since I am no longer familiar with the city, I would be grateful for your help.’
He gave her a searching look. ‘You still wish to buy slaves?’
‘Yes. If I want to give them their freedom I will have to buy them—I cannot free slaves I do not own.’
Ashfirth Saxon tucked his thumbs into his belt. He was impossible to read, but she sensed her request had surprised him. She gave him a superior look such as an Imperial princess might give a barbarian born outside the Empire. ‘Commander, I am asking for your help, I need to go to the slave market. What is it like? Is it safe to go there?’
‘What do you mean, is it safe to go there? Surely you are not thinking of going in person?’
Katerina turned the golden dolphin on her wrist. ‘How else might I choose slaves? I will buy them and free them.’
‘You will have to do more than that, they will need to be given work. If you turn them out on the streets, they will be little better than beggars.’
‘I realise that. I will give them work for as long…as long as I may. In any case, I need a new body-servant, since my old one—’ she sent him a dark look ‘—is no longer with me.’
‘Princess Theodora, I am sure there are plenty of suitable slaves the Emperor will gift to you if you ask him, there is no need for you to go anywhere near such a place as the slave market.’
‘Is that your way of telling me that the slave market is dangerous?’
‘It is not—’ he hesitated ‘—the most pleasant of places.’
‘Pleasant? Pleasant? How could a slave market possibly be pleasant?’
‘Despoina?’
Katerina dug her nails into her palms. Careful, careful. In snapping at him, she had roused his curiosity. She gave a light shrug. ‘As you say, it cannot be pleasant, but I need a new body-servant and if I am going to employ a freed slave, which is my intention, I should like to choose her myself.’
He stepped closer, so close that she caught a faint herbal scent. It must come from the soap he had been using. Beneath the tang of the herbs lay another, more musky masculine scent, and she realised with a start that she recognised it. That musky scent was personal to him, to Ashfirth Saxon. Surreptitiously, she inhaled.
Saints, what was she doing? To her horror, she realised she had been about to sway towards him.
Cheeks heating, she jerked back and stared out of the window, looking beyond the harbour walls and the wheeling gulls, beyond the galleys and merchantmen…
Behind them, the door slammed.
Silence dropped over them. It was a large silence, and it seemed to tell her that something large was about to happen. She swallowed.
‘Princess, do you really wish to help slaves?’
‘Yes.’
When his hand came towards her and hesitated, her belly quivered. When his fingers curled round her wrist next to the bracelet, she forgot to breathe.
‘My lady?’ He took another step and then he was directly in front of her, blocking her sight of the sea. His hands closed over her shoulders.
Katerina stared at the gold braiding round the neck of his tunic. Her mouth was dry.
How impertinent he is to stand so near. I can feel the heat of his body, which must mean he is not wearing chainmail beneath that tunic. He ought not to be touching me either. No, he isn’t merely touching me, he is holding me—and he most certainly ought not to be holding me!
‘I am the Princess.’
‘I know it,’ he murmured, and Katerina realised she must have spoken aloud
.
Beneath her veil, one of his thumbs, both of his thumbs, moved. Once, twice, thrice. Slow, secret caresses on her neck.
Her stomach swooped. What had happened to the air? This chamber should be full of sea air, instead it was suffocating, she couldn’t breathe. Most surprisingly, she felt no fear. For the second time, Katerina found herself wrestling with the embarrassing impulse to lean towards him. Is this what happens when one is touched by a man one likes?
The thought had no sooner formed, than she shied away from it. No. No! I do not like men, I do not trust them.
Not even this one?
No! It is impossible, I am here on false pretences. I have a task to perform, I cannot allow myself to like this man.
‘You really do want my help to buy slaves.’ His voice was husky.
She gave a slow nod, speech was beyond her.
That dark head came close, his thumbs continued to move on the side of her neck. Up and down, up and down. She ought to object. I am the Princess.
‘Commander—’ When finally she got her voice to work, it was as croaky as his. ‘You must not…not…’ His eyes were so dark, and that musky male scent was stronger than incense, it was drugging her senses, dizzying her thoughts.
‘Princess Theodora, I cannot recommend that you visit the slave market until I…oh, to hell with this.’ His grip shifted, his head came down and his mouth was on hers.
For the briefest of moments, they both froze.
He has surprised himself, he has certainly surprised me.
His arm went round her waist, bringing her full against him. He groaned and his mouth shifted against hers.
Katerina made no protest. It was astonishing, the way her mind was entirely free of fear. Hard. His mouth is hard and his arms are like iron bands—why am I not afraid? His lips were moving firmly over hers, pressing fiercely, insistently. He was not being gentle, but he was not forcing himself on her, far from it. It was a struggle to keep herself from reaching for him.
Remember, I am the Princess.
His hand slid round the back of her head and his fingers caught on a hair pin.
‘Ouch!’
His grip eased. He muttered something that might have been an apology and his lips softened, but the kiss went on. Confidently, inexorably.
Beautifully.
Katerina had never been kissed like this. She ached—no, she burned to respond, but her legs were weakening, buckling beneath her, so she must reach up and cling to his red tunic. And then, before she knew it, she was hanging on to those wide muscled shoulders.
Must push him away, must…
Her breathing was most erratic, her fingers curled into him. And still there was no fear.
‘Princess.’ He eased back and looked down at her, his mouth edging up at one side. ‘Little Princess.’ His head came down as her mouth lifted to meet him.
His fingers were in her hair, not pulling against the pins, but smoothing, stroking, mimicking the movements of his tongue on her lips. So soothing, that stroking.
Katerina’s senses were reeling, her knees had lost their strength. Far from pushing him away, she was pulling him to her. She was responding on her own behalf, not as the Princess would respond. And she did not care.
When his tongue urged her mouth to open, it opened eagerly.
Katerina had been little more than a child when she had been enslaved, she had not been much older when Vukan had propositioned her. He had not been cruel, she had agreed to go to his bed, but she had not gone from love. It had simply been a matter of survival. Her lover had been the strongest of the slaves, he had sworn to keep her for himself. Other slave girls had been treated far worse.
It was true that she had had no choice; the strongest slave had wanted her for his bed partner, and she had had to endure. But no one else had come near her. That had been the way of things until Princess Theodora bought her. She had learned to endure Vukan’s touch, his kisses.
In a secret corner of her mind, in the part reserved for her most private hopes and longings, Katerina had wondered if she would ever find pleasure in a man. Today she had her answer. There was pleasure here, a world of it.
Ashfirth’s tongue met hers and she was melting, she was wax in his arms. Eager. She drew back, startled at the ease with which he stole her breath. The sensations this man created inside her were exquisite to the point of pain. When his black lashes lifted, those haunting turquoise eyes seemed equally startled.
Longing shivered though her—it was almost unbearable. If only…
Tipping back her head, she raised her mouth.
A kiss feathered across her lips, he was easing away.
She murmured a protest and pressed closer. Shocking though it was, she ached to encourage him. In one sense, Ashfirth Saxon needed no encouragement—he was already blatantly aroused. He might be trying to retreat, but she had felt him pressed against her belly. Hard and full of desire. For her.
Or was it a princess he wanted? The question hit her like a splash of cold water.
Does he desire a princess, or me?
Yearning was a blade in her breast, but he was lifting his hands from her, and then there was space between them and the breeze from the sea was rushing through it.
She shivered and blinked up at him. Standing very straight, he shook his head. Like her, he was out of breath. His brow furrowed, a soldier struggling to control himself.
‘Princess Theodora, I…I can only say that I am sorry, that should not have happened. You should have stopped me.’ His frown deepened, his tone became less certain. ‘You could have stopped me.’
You are the Princess, that is what he is saying.
Katerina lifted an eyebrow. ‘Could I?’
‘You could, and you know it.’
He held himself as he would on parade, but he was watching her mouth. Triumph flared. He might believe he has been kissing a princess, but it is my body that attracts him, it is my person he lusts after.
‘You are the Princess Theodora, are you not?’
His question threw her, and for a moment she could only stare. Was he in earnest? Had he found her out? Had that kiss—which for her had been a revelation—merely been his way of testing her?
‘I thought—’ a muscle jumped in his jaw ‘—a princess might punish her bodyguard for such insolence.’
Katerina smiled. His gaze had flickered briefly to her mouth and up again.
He was attracted to her. That gave her power over him, power that was entirely unconnected with her role as princess. Ironically, if she was going to allay any suspicions as to her true identity, it was becoming clear that she must use that power. He would expect Princess Theodora to be confident…
‘Men have been flogged for less, I am sure,’ she said, mildly. ‘But I do not think I shall inflict that on you.’ Willing herself to maintain her composure, Katerina tidied her veil and straightened her gown, which seemed somehow to have been pulled all awry.
And not a moment too soon. A latch clicked behind her and the door opened, Anna was returning with a slave bearing the enamelled jewel box.
‘Besides, sir, you belittle yourself,’ Katerina went on coolly. ‘You are much more than a mere bodyguard.’
A faint smile flickered across his lips, and he leaned closer. ‘What am I, my lady?’
‘You, Ashfirth—you did say I might call you Ashfirth, did you not?’
‘As you wish.’
Katerina looked up at him from under her eyelashes. She had seen the real princess give Prince Peter just such a look in the days before his death, it was blatantly flirtatious. ‘You, Ashfirth, are a Commander. My Commander.’
And then—God knows how she found the courage with Anna’s footsteps fast approaching—she moistened her lips. And had to hide a triumphant smile when once again his eyes sought her mouth, and his fingers tightened on the hilt of his dagger.
He bowed. ‘As you say, my lady, I am yours to command, but if you will excuse me, I must confer with the gar
rison officers before presenting my report to His Imperial Majesty.’
‘Very well, Commander.’
Nodding curtly at Anna as he passed her, Ashfirth—after that kiss she could never think of him as the Commander—strode to the doorway. Reaching for the gilded handle, he glanced back. ‘Despoina, pray remember—until I have discovered the mood of the city, no slave markets. You are safe here.’
Katerina gave him her best smile. ‘I shall remember your advice, Ashfirth.’
I shall remember it, but I shall not necessarily follow it.
Chapter Eight
Several of Ashfirth’s Varangians were sitting around the wall-benches in the guardhouse a few floors below Princess Theodora’s apartment. They were sharpening their axes, polishing shield bosses and helmets. As Ashfirth entered, they leaped to their feet.
‘Welcome back, Commander.’
‘My thanks, Halfdan. Radwald, arm back to full strength?’
‘Yes, Commander.’
‘Sergeant Toki?’
‘Sir?’
‘Everyone off the ship?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Briefing in the armoury in ten minutes. Find as many of the squad as you can, I should like to speak to all who are not on duty.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Ashfirth was praying that none of them could read his befuddlement.
What had come over him? To have kissed Princess Theodora in such a way! He had hauled her into his arms as though she were his sweetheart! The Princess! She had said that she would not see him flogged, but in truth men had been flayed alive for less.
Although—he hid a smile—she had not objected.
Until that kiss, he had thought her innocent, he had made the assumption that her rank had protected her during the time of her betrothal to Prince Peter. He couldn’t have been more wrong. There was nothing innocent about the way that small and beautiful body had relaxed against his, nor the way her lips had softened and her tongue had come out to meet his.
Princess Theodora was no more innocent than he. She had smiled so suggestively at him. So warmly. And what was it that she had said…you are a commander, my commander.
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