Bound to the Barbarian

by Carol Townend

  It was odd, because lust was something Ash had learned to control since joining the Guard. Until now it hadn’t been hard—there was no shortage of women in Constantinople willing to offer comfort to soldiers in the Emperor’s Guard. Come to think of it, there had never been a shortage of such women in the Great Palace either; in the last few years he had turned down several. He had never lost his head over a woman, certainly not to the extent of losing his wits as he seemed to have done over his ‘princess’.

  He found her irresistible. There was something about her that had made him set aside his decision never to become involved with a lady of the Court. It was too late for regrets, this intriguing slip of a girl had him well and truly befuddled; he couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop worrying about her.

  Arriving at the doors to her apartment, Ash exchanged a greeting with the guard.

  I should have thought of this earlier.

  Telling himself that self-flagellation served no purpose, Ash marched into the reception chamber. With General Alexios poised for battle, he could no longer prevaricate, but for his own peace of mind he needed to discover her true identity.

  His footsteps slowed.

  The apartment was ominously quiet, empty but for the two children and a smiling maidservant. The baby was waving a coral teether and the little girl was rolling a wooden ball to the maidservant. The Norman’s pallet was empty.

  The Norman’s pallet was empty?

  Ash frowned. He had left two men to watch over her, the man at the door and…

  ‘Kari! Kari!’

  Kari emerged from a side chamber. ‘I am sorry, Commander.’

  ‘Where is everyone?’

  ‘I…I am not sure. I think the Princess and her lady have gone to church.’

  Ash’s skin chilled. ‘They’ve left the Palace grounds?’

  ‘I…I think so, sir.’

  ‘Did they take an escort?’

  Kari shook his head. ‘The Princess didn’t want one.’

  ‘Devil take you, you were supposed to keep an eye on her, not let her run loose in the City!’

  Kari scratched the back of his neck ‘Who am I to refuse the Princess?’ He spread his hands. ‘She is a member of the Imperial family, we are sworn to obey.’

  Ash felt like tearing his hair out. ‘Your orders were clear, your duty is to me! You were to watch over her, to make certain she was safe. How the hell can you watch over her when you are not with her?’ He waved at the empty pallet. ‘And where the devil is that Norman slave?’

  ‘I…I don’t know, sir. He was there when the Princess and Lady Anna broke their fast. He got up shortly after they left. I thought he had gone to relieve himself, but…’

  Ash made an exasperated noise. ‘Don’t tell me—he never returned?’

  ‘That’s it, sir, that’s it exactly.’

  Ash fought to remain calm. ‘Not only have you let the ladies leave the Palace without an escort, but we also have a runaway slave to contend with.’

  Kari shuffled his boots. ‘I am sorry, sir, but the Princess…’

  Ash sighed. ‘Kari, I am most displeased.’

  ‘Yes, sir. My apology—’

  ‘Yes, yes, I heard the first time. How long since the ladies left?’

  ‘It’s not been long.’ Kari brightened. ‘I could go after them, I might be able to catch them.’

  ‘No, I want you here.’

  The little girl smiled warily at Ash. Scrubbed clean and wearing decent clothes, he wouldn’t have known her for the pitiful scrap the ‘princess’ had brought from the slave market. ‘Do you think you are up to watching children?’

  Kari went crimson. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Good. If the Princess returns, your orders are to stick to her like a burr. You are not to let her out of your sight. Understood?’

  ‘Yes, Commander. And if she decides to leave the Palace again…?’

  ‘Stop her. Bind her hand and foot if you must. Until this business with General Alexios is settled, I don’t want her setting a toe outside the Palace.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Ash strode into the bedchamber, confident that this was where he would find what he was looking for. The slaves’ document of ownership. He had watched her sign it at the slave market, and for it to be valid she would have to have used her real name.

  Where the hell would she have put it?

  Several travelling chests were lined up against a wall, Ash recognised them from the ship. There was no sign of the jewellery box. His gaze settled on an archway leading off from the main bedchamber. Ducking under the arch, he found himself in what appeared to be a dressing room. An icon lay on a table, an ivory comb, a silver-backed mirror…

  There! The enamelled box was on the floor under the table. Ash picked it up.

  It was locked, as he had expected. The lock was sturdy, but not sturdy enough to withstand a man with a little determination. He would soon have it open. Not wanting to blunt the blade of his dagger, Ash tucked it under his arm and went back under the arch.

  Kari was in the reception room, staring moodily at the children. He eyed the casket with interest.

  ‘If the Princess returns before I do,’ Ash said, ‘tell her I have taken her valuables. I am putting them into safe-keeping and will return them to her when the City has been restored to order.’

  Kari saluted. ‘Yes, sir.’

  In his private quarters a couple of floors below the Princess’s apartments, Ash worked at the lock with the pin of a cloak fastening. The lock was more delicate than he had thought, and more intricate, as was the detailing on the casket itself. What a beautiful object! The surface was studded with enamel plaques, with gemstones and coloured glass—in itself the box probably represented several years’ pay. Ash grimaced, he was loathe to destroy it to get at the contents, but get at them he would.

  This had to be where she had secreted the documents of ownership, the documents he had seen her sign at the slave market.

  Her name has to be on them, her real name…

  He bent over the lock. The cloak pin bent. Swearing softly, Ash found a belt buckle with a pin that had more substance to it and tried again. The lock was resistant and he was on the point of resorting to brute force when it gave a soft click and the lid popped open.

  The scrolls were on top. Holding his breath, Ash picked one out, unrolled it and peered at the signatures. In his early days in service with the Emperor, Ash had found it hard to grasp Greek lettering, but he had been ambitious, he had learned to read.

  And there it was, clear as day. Large and curiously ill formed. Katerina.

  ‘Katerina,’ he murmured, staring bemusedly at some extremely misshapen handwriting.

  Her name is Katerina! Katerina…

  Next to Katerina’s signature, written with a practised flourish, was another name: ‘Anna.’

  Puzzled, his eyes went from one signature to the other, the contrast between the two couldn’t be more marked. Katerina’s was crabbed and awkward, almost childish in its execution; Lady Anna’s on the other hand, was polished and sophisticated.

  Katerina, her name is Katerina…

  Ash was frowning bemusedly at the ill-formed signature when someone rapped on the door.

  ‘Commander?’ Captain Sigurd stood there, bristling with news.

  Ash shoved the scroll back into the box and closed the lid. ‘Captain?’

  ‘The General’s troops have got into the City.’

  ‘Already?’ The last Ash had heard they were camped outside the walls, he had hoped it had been a bargaining position, to put pressure on the Emperor. He had prayed they would not actually break in…

  ‘Yes, sir. A contingent has reached the aqueduct. And it as you feared, they are out of control.’

  Ash secured the casket in one of his coffers. ‘Come, we had best get to the guardhouse. Captain, full report! How did they get in?’

  Sigurd answered as they sprinted down the stairs. ‘Word has it that the German
s let down ladders and they climbed over the bastion.’

  ‘Holy Mother. Alexios Komnenos is honourable, but his soldiers are largely mercenary, they may run amok.’

  ‘Sadly, sir, it appears you are right.’

  Ash squared his shoulders as they entered the guardhouse. ‘The next few days are likely to test us, Sigurd.’

  ‘I know it, sir.’ Sigurd swallowed hard. ‘It does not look good for our Emperor.’

  Indeed it does not. And that was a thought Ash would not speak out loud.

  ‘Many of the men would as lief take orders from General Alexios as from our Emperor,’ Sigurd added, with a swift sideways look.

  Ash glared at him.

  ‘I am sorry, sir, I spoke out of turn.’

  You and half my men, I’ll be bound.

  ‘Captain, has anyone seen our Emperor this morning? Has he left the Palace?’

  ‘It is possible, there is no sign of him in his apartments, and a guard at the Chalke Gate reported seeing a courtier resembling the Emperor heading towards Hagia Sophia.’

  ‘Wasn’t he sure?’

  ‘No, sir. The man was heavily cloaked and the guard forbore to ask his name.’

  ‘Hell.’ Thoughts racing, Ash ran his hand round his neck. The Emperor’s weak state of mind had meant that Ash had been unable to deliver his report on the build-up of Norman forces off Apulia. The matter was urgent, yet he had been forced to sit on it. And with General Alexios choosing today to make a bid for the throne…

  Ash had long admired the General and until this moment he had thought it impossible that he would end up facing him in battle.

  A battle in the city. Lord, save us. Not only will I be limited in where I might deploy the troops, but it is inevitable that civilians will get hurt.

  His life had become a nightmare.

  Emperor Nikephoros might be old, his wits might have gone begging, but he deserved protection.

  As for Katerina, the girl he had bedded in the Princess’s bedchamber, she was one worry Ash could well do without. Nevertheless, she had been put in his charge, he was responsible for her safety—particularly after what had passed between them.

  She is wandering about Constantinople without an escort— what if she runs into trouble?

  ‘God save us.’ Ash moved to a window overlooking the city. The sky was lightening and the rain easing. Dense black smoke was hanging like low-lying cloud over some of the roofs. ‘The merchants’ quarter along the Golden Horn has been fired.’

  Sigurd leaned past him to see for himself. ‘Yes, sir, I think you are right.’

  ‘Fighting inside the streets is the last thing we want. Innocents always get hurt.’ Ash shook his head. ‘There is little else for it though, we are sworn to support the Emperor. Are the men braced for fierce action?’

  ‘They are.’

  ‘Good man. Listen, General Alexios will be heading this way. Deploy the men in the main square in front of the Milion Arch. In close order.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Ash gave one last look out of the window, but no one resembling Katerina was in sight. If it was within his power he would help her, but his duty to the Emperor must come first.

  Let her be safe. Dear God, let Katerina be safe.

  ‘Run, run!’

  The mercenaries lurched towards the girls, howling like wolves. ‘Ladies, real ladies!’

  Heart pounding, Katerina dived for the church door. The soldiers’ gait was unsteady, they must have broached more than one wine barrel, but it had not slowed them down.

  Her hands shook; she fumbled the latch.

  Behind her, harsh voices were arguing over whose turn it was to go first, and which girl they wanted.

  ‘The one in the red dress.’

  ‘I’ll take the other. Then we can swap.’

  The good-natured tone to the quarrelling chilled her to the marrow. They have done this before, it is nothing to them.

  Katerina leaned her weight against heavy oak and tripped over the threshold.

  ‘Anna? Anna?’

  Anna was not there. Chest heaving, Katerina stared in disbelief at the empty footpath. No Anna. But Anna had been right behind her—where had she gone?

  The mercenaries had split up. Three of them were weaving, with drunken doggedness, towards the church, the others were no longer in sight.

  The others are chasing Anna.

  Instinctively, Katerina backed into Hagia Irene. She was vaguely aware of rows of arches that were busy with mosaics of saints, of purple marble, a lofty space. Something rustled behind one of the pillars. Her heart banged against her breastbone as a man in black robes stepped into the light. Katerina let her breath out in a rush as another man followed. Monks!

  ‘Thank God! Please, brothers, help me!’ She clutched wildly at a black habit. ‘My friend is out here and those men…’ Trembling from head to foot, she pointed shakily at the approaching mercenaries.

  The monk made a swift negative gesture and reached for the door.

  ‘Brother, no!’ She hung on to his habit. ‘What about Anna?’

  ‘My apologies, sister, but you are at risk—there is no sense in two ladies being hurt.’

  She struggled, but the other monk took her arm and pulled her deeper into the church. His face was kindly and creased with concern, but he was implacable, his grip unshakeable.

  The door shut with a clang. A large key was turned and a bolt scraped home. Outside, something thudded against the wood.

  ‘Just in time, Dimitri.’ The monk relaxed his grip on her arm.

  Katerina glared at him. ‘You don’t understand, my friend is out there!’

  ‘I shall pray for her, sister, and I suggest you do the same. Compose yourself. Come, we were about to pray for a peaceful outcome.’

  Peaceful outcome? Does everyone in Constantinople know more about what is happening than me? Why has no one discussed this properly with me?

  The answer came swiftly. Because it concerns a rebellion against the Emperor and you are masquerading as the Emperor’s niece…

  Another thud had her shrinking deeper into the church. ‘What is happening? Has the world gone mad that two women are not safe within yards of the Palace?’

  ‘Where have you been, sister, that you have not heard? General Alexios and his mercenaries have entered the city.’

  So, Anna was right, that was why the alarms had rung out. Her skin iced over. Ash must be defending the Emperor…God save him. His face swam into focus in her mind’s eye—the gleaming black hair, the vivid blue eyes, that beautiful mouth. Ash was a mercenary—not all mercenaries were as unscrupulous as the men out there. If only Ash was with me now, then I would know he is safe.

  As Katerina was ushered into the church, she put a hand to her mouth to stifle a moan. Anna, where are you? Are you all right?

  At the east end, the apse was dominated by a huge black cross. Below it were tiers of stone benches, many monks were already at prayer.

  ‘Come, sister—’ the kindly, implacable monk tucked his hands into his sleeves and moved towards his brethren on the tiered benches ‘—join us in our prayers for peace.’

  The Guard was well drilled. Within minutes, Ash had five hundred men in place, and was himself standing with them in the square in front of the Milion Arch. The red dress uniforms had been replaced with battle armour, and their helmets and battle-axes, row after row, were like silver sharks’ teeth pointed at Heaven.

  It was ironic that they had taken up position by the Milion Arch. A glorified milestone at the centre of the Empire, the Milion was the start point for measuring distances to towns and cities in every province. The Varangians were thus awaiting their first sighting of General Alexios at the very heart of the Empire that he was hoping to rule. The wall of the Great Palace lay on their left hand, hiding the sprawl of elegant buildings within; the domes of Hagia Sophia mushroomed out behind them.

  A rook cawed overhead, a man coughed.

  This coup has come dangerously clo
se to ripping the Empire apart.

  A grey-bearded warrior was lining his men up alongside the Varangians. The warrior’s name was Nikephoros Palaiologos and he and his family exemplified the rift. Palaiologos was the head of his dynasty, a dynasty that was just as aristocratic as the Komnenos dynasty. Loyal to his marrow, Palaiologos was determined to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ash and the Guard.

  Sadly, not everyone in the Palaiologos family was as loyal: his son, George, was siding with General Alexios. Foreign mercenaries were not the only ones putting their lives at risk today. In this battle—in the city!—it was going to be Greek against Greek.

  The men stood firm behind the shield-wall. Chainmail chinked, battle-axes gleamed like crescent moons.

  ‘Commander!’ Captain Sigurd pointed down the street leading to the Hippodrome. ‘Do you hear them?’

  Men on the march. Not in view yet…

  There!

  A troop of foreign soldiers charged round a corner at the opposite side of the square. They were in disarray and when they saw the Varangians, they came to a ragged halt.

  In one of the side streets a woman was screaming. Ash clenched his teeth. Katerina! Where is she?

  ‘Hold the line, Captain. Hold the men steady.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  In the corner of his eye, Ash caught a flash of movement. His heart sank. Lady Anna! She was pelting along behind the Milion, eyes large with fear. If Ash had looked but a moment later, he would have missed her. Her skirts were bunched up about her knees and she had lost her veil. Her hair had broken free of its pins and was streaming out behind her.

  Katerina! Where is Katerina?

  Mind full of that one question, Ash’s heart began to pound. He glanced towards the Hippodrome. The rebel troops were milling about in front of it, no one seemed to be giving them orders. There was likely to be a stand-off while they waited for their general to appear.

  Good, that gives me some time. Where is Katerina?

  He snatched up his shield. Inside, he was fighting his own internal battle. Yes, he was in command here, but the Emperor had also charged him with protecting Lady Anna and her ‘princess’.