Bound to the Barbarian

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Bound to the Barbarian Page 23

by Carol Townend


  She stared at Hrodric, shaking her head. ‘He thought I was a lady-in-waiting when he proposed marriage, he did not realise I was a potter’s daughter from Crete.’

  ‘I am sorry if you think that would make a difference to him. Ashfirth wants you.’

  There was still much she could not say. The Commander of the Varangian Guard does not know I was enslaved, he does not know what I was forced to do to survive. ‘Ashfirth’s father was an Anglo-Saxon thane, he cannot marry me.’

  ‘He does not wish to be parted from you.’

  Nor I from him. Perhaps, if Ashfirth can find it in his heart to forgive me, I shall ask him to consider taking me as his lover…

  Hrodric picked up a blanket, folded it several times to make a wad and set it on the flagstones.

  ‘That should keep off most of the chill,’ he said. ‘Here, Katerina, please be seated. We may have a long wait.’

  In the dank cellars of the Imperial Treasury there was no way of marking the passage of the hours, it was eternal night. Sunlight never inched across these cold flagstones; instead, the yellow tongue of the torch must lick the walls to leave a sooty shadow on the vaulted roof. The quiet was unnatural. Deep in the bowels of the earth, there was no chattering of sparrows from nearby gardens; these tunnels never rang with the shrieks of the seagulls. The air was never freshened by a salty wind, nor laden with the mouth-watering smell of baking bread. She and Hrodric were locked in with the Imperial treasures, locked in with the mildew and must.

  ‘Hrodric?’

  ‘Katerina?’

  ‘This place is like a labyrinth.’

  Hrodric grunted and, drawing a blanket about his shoulders, settled down beside her. ‘Aye, that it is, a damp and cheerless labyrinth.’

  ‘I never imagined the Treasury to be like this. It is hard to believe the wealth of the Empire is mouldering in such a grim place. One might lose one’s way in the passages and—’

  ‘Here, take another blanket and try to think of more pleasant things—of dolphins playing in a sunlit sea, of what you might do when we leave this place.’

  Katerina accepted the blanket and wrapped it round her. ‘You are right, of course. But I have had the most lowering of thoughts, and it will not leave me.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘If Ash does not come for us, we will be immured here for ever.’

  A kindly hand patted her clumsily on the arm. ‘He will come.’

  ‘If he lives. But, Hrodric, what if—?’

  ‘He will come. As to the labyrinth, push that thought from your mind. In any case, I have found that most labyrinths are of our own making.’

  She stared blankly at him. ‘What on earth can you mean?’

  Hrodric smiled and shook his head and refused to elaborate.

  They had been in the vaults beneath the Palace so long that Katerina took refuge in daydreams.

  She was walking along the beach of her home village of Loutro, and her sandals were dangling from her fingers. It was summer and the sea was as smooth and shiny as blue glass. White sand blinded her eyes, it was warm between her toes. The beloved child of a nobleman, Katerina was wearing a silken gown like one of Princess Theodora’s. She had never been enslaved; she was a lady, a pure and innocent lady. When she turned to look at the hillside behind her, Ashfirth was making his way along the winding path through the olive groves. He was wearing a long court tunic, in burgundy brocade. He was smiling at her. With his turquoise eyes and raven-black hair he was so handsome it hurt to look at him. His gold arm-ring flashed as he held out his hand out to her…

  A metallic chink broke the dream. Ashfirth and the Cretan olive groves were gone. In the blink of an eye, the treasury walls closed in.

  ‘Hrodric, did you hear that?’

  Hrodric was at the mouth of the vault, peering into the corridor. ‘Someone is coming.’

  She heard the groaning of a little-used hinge, the scraping of a door being forced open…hasty footsteps.

  Hrodric turned, relief large on his face. ‘It’s the Commander!’

  He’s alive! The chill forgotten, she threw the blanket aside and rushed to the corridor.

  It was indeed the Commander, but if it had not been for the brightness of those turquoise eyes, she would not have known the man behind that metal noseguard. With his helmet on and in full armour, that fierce foreign warrior was back. His shield was slung over his shoulder and the scabbard of his sword scraped the passage wall as he came towards her.

  ‘Ash…Ashfirth?’ But Ashfirth Saxon had been transported, he was a thousand miles away. This man was invincible; he no longer answered to the Emperor, he answered only to Ares, the god of war. Instinctively backing away, Katerina finally understood why so many Imperial soldiers had the head of the Medusa engraved on their sword. They hoped to turn their enemies to stone.

  This man was a stranger.

  His eyes—bright as jewels—found hers. His smile was grim, the crescent edge of his battle-axe flashed. He looked indomitable.

  Where is Ashfirth? This man, this Commander, has devoured him.

  She snatched at Hrodric’s arm.

  Hrodric grinned down at her, unperturbed. ‘It is Ashfirth, and judging by the look on his face, he has come to claim his rights.’

  ‘H-his rights?’

  Hrodric’s grin widened. Stepping back into the vault, he picked up the enamelled casket. ‘Take this. Whatever happens, don’t lose it.’ He lobbed it across.

  Somehow she caught it. ‘His rights? Hrodric?’

  There was no time for more because the Commander—Ashfirth—had reached her. He allowed Hrodric to take his shield and swept her into his arms. Her heart jumped about in her breast.

  ‘Come on, Doe Eyes,’ Ashfirth said.

  Juggling the casket, grabbing at his leather chest-strap, Katerina looked into his eyes and fear was forgotten.

  ‘Ashfirth,’ she murmured. ‘You came!’

  His mouth remained grim, his jaw was set, but his eyes were warm. ‘O ye of little faith. Yes, I came.’

  Leaning in, she whispered, ‘I did have faith, ask Hrodric. I knew you would come if you could.’

  ‘You did?’ He stared at her a moment and his mouth relaxed into a smile.

  ‘Ash, you are unharmed?’

  Nodding at Hrodric, arms tightening about her like steels bands, Ashfirth stepped back into the passage. ‘Yes.’

  He might be unharmed, but she sensed anger in him. Was it directed against her? Or at whatever had happened above?

  He strode towards the tunnel and the winding stairs beyond. ‘Hrodric, we only have minutes. I shall take her straight to the house. Follow us.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘The house? Ash?’

  ‘There is no time for explanations. First, I will have you out of here.’

  There was a small cut on his cheek, it had not been there before. Forcing herself to release her grip on his leather chest-strap, she reached up to touch his cheekbone and felt warm human flesh and the roughness of a masculine cheek badly in need of a shave. A lock of dark hair curled out from under his helmet, she managed to touch that too. She wanted to touch, to kiss…

  Dear Lord, let him keep me as his lover.

  She was trying to plant a kiss on his chin when the casket began to slip from her hold. I will make him take me as his lover.

  Frowning, he came to an abrupt halt. ‘Careful, Katerina. You almost lost your treasure. I cannot carry it if I am carrying you.’

  She tightened her grip on the casket and managed to place a swift kiss on his chin. ‘I can walk, you know.’

  Shaking his head, mouth a thin line, he settled her in his arms and set off again.

  They passed the first door, then the next. There was muffled noise ahead. A shout. A loud thud. A wild laugh. Has someone broken into the Treasury?

  ‘Ashfirth, what is happening?’

  ‘Never mind, you are safe with me.’

  ‘You should not be carrying me—what about your le
g? Put me down.’

  His mouth firmed as they ducked under another doorway. ‘My leg is healed, and I will carry you.’

  They were at the point where tunnels ran off to right and left. Doors were hanging askew, and they passed a vault which was empty save for a torch sputtering on the ground.

  In the next cell a large chest was bolted to the flagstones with iron bands; a Varangian was prising it free with a metal bar. As Ash hurried past, grim-faced, the iron band gave way with a groan. The Guard let out a whoop and hefted the chest on to his shoulder.

  Katerina’s jaw dropped. ‘That trooper, he…he’s stealing…’

  Blue eyes briefly met hers, and then the man was pounding past them, beating them to the spiral stairs. ‘Not stealing. It is his right.’

  Her breath froze in her lungs. All those tales of the Varangian Guard and their right to pillage…they must be true! The hairs rose on the back of her neck.

  ‘Emperor Nikephoros has been killed?’

  His nostrils flared. ‘Not killed, he has abdicated. We only have moments.’

  ‘Moments? For what? I don’t understand.’

  But Ash was not listening. He leaned his back against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, chest heaving.

  ‘Ash, please put me down, I am far too heavy…’

  ‘Don’t argue.’ Lurching forwards, he started up the stairs.

  Katerina gave a muffled shriek, pressed her head against him and clung to his neck and shoulder-strap. Even so, she was slipping, it was not comfortable being carried like this.

  ‘Ash—’

  ‘Later,’ he gasped. ‘For pity’s sake.’

  She subsided against his chest, listened to his laboured breathing and prayed that his leg should not give way.

  She could hear other Varangians, odd crashes and bangs, exultant shouts. Men intent on stripping the vaults of as much as they could carry. Yes, she remembered, they may only take what they can carry.

  Her heart stopped. Ash is carrying me! Me.

  What had he said? We only have moments.

  Moments before…what?

  The answer came in a flash.

  There can only be moments before he swears to the new Emperor, to Alexios Komnenos, moments during which this right to pillage may be exercised.

  After that the doors of the Treasury would be locked, the Guard would resume their positions and the wealth of the Empire would once more be secure.

  Of course the pillaging had to take place in a very short time. Otherwise, the Treasury would be totally ransacked!

  She bit her lip as she absorbed the implications of what he was doing. Ash only had moments, the wealth of the Empire was at his disposal, and he was carrying her…

  He is choosing me.

  A warm glow made itself felt in her chest.

  He is choosing me!

  You fool! He is choosing you, but do not delude yourself that he loves you. He might have learned your true origins, but he does not know you were enslaved. The best that you can hope for is that his punishment is not too severe; the best you can hope for is that he never learns that you were forced to barter your body during the time of your slavery. For then, if you are lucky, he might make you his lover for a time.

  Chest heaving, Ash took the last stair and stumbled out at the top. The main door was just ahead, Katerina could smell the sea. And then he was standing in a courtyard that was grey with mist. She sucked in fresh air. Brightness in the east told her that dawn was breaking.

  ‘We were in there all night?’ she asked, as Hrodric emerged with Ash’s shield on his shoulder.

  Ash was breathing hard. Nodding, he renewed his grip on her and set off towards one of the gates.

  ‘Surely you can put me down now?’

  ‘In a moment.’ His noseguard hid his expression, but he sounded preoccupied. ‘I realise the Princess herself commanded you to take her place, and it is most likely you will not be punished, but just to be certain, I thought it best to claim you.’

  ‘To claim me?’

  ‘No one will think to punish you if you are mine.’

  ‘I am yours?’

  Ash owned her? He had carried her from the Treasury and because of this he owned her?

  ‘No!’

  She had used her precious freedom to repay the Princess, and this was to be her reward? Ash owned her?

  Katerina did not know what to think. Of all the men in the world, Ash was perhaps the only one she might accept as master…but…

  ‘No!’

  He was avoiding her gaze. ‘For now. Do not misunderstand. It is…a temporary measure.’

  Her tension eased. He does not intend to own me. I will not be his slave. ‘A temporary measure? So no one will punish me?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  His gaze was blank. ‘Me?’

  ‘I deceived you. Your reputation…will it suffer because I…because…?’

  ‘My reputation is quite safe, I assure you.’ His mouth gave a wry smile. ‘In any case, the Emperor who summoned Princess Theodora to Constantinople has abdicated. My failure to see through your deception has become irrelevant.’

  He fell silent as they reached the gate. The sentry saluted and he hurried through. When he gained the street, he set her on her feet.

  ‘Finally!’ Katerina gave him a tentative smile while he caught his breath. Shame lay heavy on her heart. I should have told him about my time as a slave. But she had missed her chance. She would simply have to tell him later, and pray he was not revolted by what she had had to do.

  ‘Come.’ He was extending his hand to her in exactly the same way as he had done in her daydream. ‘The house is not far, it is just off the Mese.’

  She looked blankly at him. ‘The Mese?’

  Ash made an exasperated sound. ‘The Princess really should have asked someone with a better knowledge of the city to take her place. The Mese—Middle Street—is the main street. Because of your fear of horses, we shall walk.’

  Katerina nodded agreement. Inside she was aching for the impossible—she wanted him to know her full story, and then she wanted him to smile at her in the same way that he had done in her imaginings.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The squares and avenues were filling with people, news of the coup had already reached the streets. Katerina could sense the excitement; everyone seemed to be smiling—serious fighting had not broken out. The feeling of relief was palpable, yet she felt oddly apart, unable to share in everyone’s happiness.

  She stepped into the gutter to make way for a woman energetically attacking a broken amphora with a broom. Others were clearing up, too. One man was tossing snapped-off tree branches into a cart; another was replanting an uprooted shrub. Protective planking was being prised off shop fronts; troops were tramping this way and that; there was bustle and laughter. The handcarts had reappeared—the citizens of Constantinople had obviously decided it was safe to bring their chattels out of hiding and return home.

  ‘Look at that.’ Making her voice bright, she pointed to a house where a Persian carpet was hanging from a balcony, all colour and swirling patterns. The bright tone was to cover up the fact that she felt hollow inside. This was the day when she must reveal the rest of her past to him. She could no longer put it off, and while she had learned that Ash was not an intemperate man, he himself was so strong he could not help but be shocked by her enslavement. And as for what had happened with Vukan—an honourable man like Ash would surely be repelled by her relations with Vukan…

  ‘They are celebrating,’ Ash said, waving at other houses that were displaying their approval of Alexios Komnenos in a similar fashion. Bright carpets and vivid tapestries adorned the street, like rows of flags.

  ‘General Alexios is a popular choice.’ A sick dread had her in its grip. Today, I shall tell him today. The longer I deceive him, the less respect he will have for me when he does find out.

  ‘Yes, the people hate uncertainty. General
Alexios is a strong man, they expect to prosper under his leadership.’

  Katerina glanced over her shoulder. She had her confessions to make, but she was afraid, she was a coward. Besides, what she had to say was too personal, she could hardly discuss it out here in the street! Particularly not when Hrodric was walking a few paces behind with a small escort of Varangians. With a jolt, Katerina realised that the Guard was there for her benefit. For her—a village girl! It came to her that when the moment came to part from Ashfirth Saxon she would miss the care he took of her.

  ‘The city will be put to rights,’ Ash was saying. ‘Alexios Komnenos is mortified by the damage done by his troops, he will have to make amends. There is talk of penances.’

  ‘Will the new Emperor bear a grudge against you for having served the old one?’

  Ash shook his head. ‘Not if my men and I swear allegiance to him, which we will.’

  ‘It is as simple as that?’

  ‘Yes. When Emperor Nikephoros abdicated, our contract with him was ended. Within the hour I must pledge my loyalty to Alexios Komnenos.’

  ‘Within the hour?’ Heavens.

  ‘Yes. He will be enthroned on Easter Day.’

  Katerina nodded. The townsfolk are not alone in their delight with the new Emperor; Ash is delighted, too. And since I am undecided about whether to confess quite yet, I shall follow his lead, we shall talk about the new Emperor. ‘Tell me more about General Alexios, you obviously admire him.’

  Ash nodded. ‘He has a quick mind and a good grasp of politics—his whole family have been bred to it. He has support inside the Great Palace, and with the army and navy behind him, the borders of the Empire may at last be strengthened. General Alexios has always commanded my admiration, I confess I am glad we did not have to fight him face-to-face.’

  ‘And you must meet him within the hour?’

  ‘Yes.’

  His turquoise eyes were lit with happiness. Ash is delighted with today’s outcome. ‘I heard some talk at the Palace,’ she said. ‘Emperor Nikephoros was not universally admired.’

  Ash gave her a penetrating look. ‘Certainly, many spoke out against him.’

 

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