Betrothed to the Barbarian

by Carol Townend

  ‘I don’t think so, my lord.’

  Niko shrugged. ‘I can’t be certain it’s the same woman, but why else would she be angry?’

  Elias began to splutter. ‘That’s obvious, my lord, you mentioned your mis— Cleo. Everyone knows that whenever you are in the City, you go straight to Cleo.’

  ‘Exactly. Think, man. It’s one thing for me to recognise the Princess in all her finery, but how did she recognise me?’

  ‘I...I don’t quite follow.’

  Nikolaos gestured at his plain brown tunic, at his workaday chausses and scuffed boots. ‘We have yet to be introduced. Unless she was the lady we spoke to yesterday, how would she know me?’

  With a sigh, Nikolaos returned to the stall, unbuckled his saddle and heaved it off Hercules.

  ‘We are not riding, my lord?’

  ‘Later. Since Princess Theodora has at last emerged from hiding, the least we can do is go and greet her.’

  ‘And Cleo?’

  ‘Cleo will have to wait.’

  * * *

  ‘Did you hear him, Sophia?’ Theodora demanded, taking the stairs up to her apartment in the women’s quarters. Captain Brand dogged their heels. ‘My betrothed probably has women hidden all over the City.’

  At the landing outside the apartment, sight of her jewelled diadem had the guards jumping to attention—they saluted, they bowed almost to the floor. The polished doors swung open. Brushing past the guards, Theodora made straight for the small room at the far end of the reception chamber. The room had one slim window and was little more than a closet, but Theodora had decreed that it should be Martina’s nursery. She wished it might be more spacious, but to have given anything grander to a child who was supposed to have been born to a slave would certainly rouse suspicions.

  The wet-nurse Jelena was sitting next to a wooden cradle, folding baby clothes. Jelena had been with them since Dyrrachion and she had that morning been informed of Theodora’s Imperial connections. However, she remained ignorant of the fact that Theodora was Martina’s mother.

  Bending over the cradle, Theodora ran her finger down a lightly flushed cheek and stroked her daughter’s hair. Martina had recently begun to teethe, and since Theodora was in the habit of spending most of the day with her, she had been concerned that the baby might be upset with only her nurse for company.

  ‘She went to sleep without fretting, Jelena?’

  ‘Martina has been fine, my lady, despoina. She began to fuss, but I found a coral teether and that did the trick.’

  ‘Thank you, Jelena. How long has she been asleep?’

  ‘Not long.’

  Theodora nodded. It was dawning on her that even if she managed to keep her daughter, her duties as a princess would separate them more than she would like. However, Jelena was both caring and competent, and if Martina was happy with her, that was what mattered.

  Lightly, she touched Jelena’s arm. ‘I am glad you came with us.’

  ‘Thank you, despoina.’

  Theodora rubbed her forehead, her head was thumping. ‘I shall come back to see Martina later, when she is awake.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  Theodora left the nursery, nodding at the smiling, curtsying ladies who awaited her pleasure in the reception chamber. Her head ached so much, it was a struggle to remember that the servants were always watching and she must give lip service to the lie that some of her ladies would not have spoken to her for some weeks. I must remember, I am meant to have returned to the Palace some weeks ago and my ladies sailed in yesterday.

  ‘Thetis, are you well?’ she asked, smiling.

  Thetis curtsied and followed Theodora’s lead. ‘I thank you, despoina, I am very well.’

  ‘And Cassandra...’ Theodora made her voice warm

  ‘...how are you?’

  ‘Never better, my lady.’

  ‘That is good to hear.’ For the benefit of the servants and any guards not under Commander Ashfirth’s orders, Theodora raised her voice. ‘It is such a relief to be reunited with my ladies at last—I have missed you. You shall tell me about your voyage in due course. First, I would speak alone with Sophia. Come, Sophia.’

  Retreating into the opulent bedchamber, Theodora dragged the diadem from her head and tossed it on to the mulberry bedcover. With a groan and a grimace, she began massaging her scalp. ‘I had forgotten the weight of that thing.’

  Sophia clucked her tongue and retrieved the diadem, the pearl pendants had become entangled. Reverently, she straightened them.

  Theodora began to drag the pins from her hair and Sophia watched the destruction of the elaborate hair arrangement she had taken so long to create with rueful resignation. Hairpins went the way the diadem had gone, bouncing off a tasselled cushion. Theodora’s hair rippled as it was released, a glossy dark cascade which hung to her waist.

  Aware she was frowning, Theodora searched her hair for more pins. ‘Did you hear my betrothed? He knows our official meeting must be soon, yet he is arranging assignations in the City.’ She thrust her shawl and a couple of stray hairpins at Sophia. ‘She must be his mistress.’

  ‘You don’t know that, my lady.’

  Theodora let out a sound of vexation. ‘You don’t need to be a soothsayer to read Duke Nikolaos. A man like that will have women scattered all over the Empire, waiting on his pleasure.’

  Carefully, Sophia set the diadem and hairpins on a gilded side-table. She shook out the shawl. ‘A man like that?’

  ‘A...a man of...vigour and experience.’

  ‘Vigour. Experience. Hmm.’ Sophia shot her a penetrating look and pursed her lips. ‘Certainly, Duke Nikolaos seems extremely...vigorous.’

  Theodora held down a blush and paced to the window. Sophia knew her too well. She had realised that Theodora found the Duke handsome, she knew Theodora was carnally attracted to him. And as for his vigour...his energy...that, too, was attractive. She sighed. What would it be like to be loved by a man of experience, rather than a boy? The thought seemed so disloyal, she pushed it away. I loved Peter, I do not love the Duke and he does not love me. If I bedded with the Duke, of course it would be disappointing...

  * * *

  There. That was better, that was much more loyal. If only she could believe it.

  Resting her arms on a window ledge, she found herself gazing out over one of the Palace courtyards. She could see the Palace walls that separated them from the city she had once been so sad to leave. And beyond the walls lay the huge stone oval of the Hippodrome, the great arena where chariot races and circuses were staged.

  She turned and caught Sophia’s eye. ‘The Duke is nothing like Peter.’

  ‘I don’t suppose that he is, my lady, but you have only spoken to him once and, don’t forget, he is unaware he spoke to you yesterday.’

  ‘I cannot marry him.’

  ‘Why not? It’s obvious he intrigues you.’

  ‘It is no good, I cannot marry a man like that. I shall have to seek an audience with the Emperor.’ Yesterday Sophia said that a man with the Duke’s experience would know at once that I am no virgin. She was right. He will expose me. I was dreaming to think otherwise.

  Sophia put Theodora’s shawl on the bed. ‘His Majesty is doing penance for usurping the throne, many of his duties have been set aside until his penance is over.’

  Theodora frowned. ‘How long a penance?’

  ‘Forty days, my lady. There is more than three weeks left of it and—’

  ‘The Emperor must still govern! I shall insist on seeing him.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s wise? It might be better to go ahead with the marriage as planned.’

  ‘I cannot marry that man.’ Theodora had reached the window again. Heavens, there were soldiers everywhere. Varangian Guards, Palace Guards...she recognised the uniforms of several local regiments. ‘The army is here in force, the grounds are bristling with soldiers.’

  Sophia came to lean against a mulberry-coloured curtain and murmured agreement. ‘I don’t
remember half as many when I was last here.’

  ‘The army will want to make the most of the regime change. Emperor Alexios is himself a soldier, I expect the military are delighted the balance of power has shifted in their favour.’ Theodora sighed. ‘It may be no bad thing that the Emperor has decided to do penance for so many days. In truth, Sophia, I was dreading the moment I must meet him. A reprieve will be most welcome.’

  ‘Look, my lady.’ Sophia pointed. ‘Duke Nikolaos is by that fountain.’

  For a moment Theodora was able to study her betrothed unobserved. He stood casually, a boot on the rim of the fountain, exchanging jokes with a Varangian officer. When they flung their heads back, their laughter reached the apartment. The Duke’s teeth were white and even, his dark hair was ruffled. He was dressed as he had been in the stables, like a groom. Even at this distance Theodora could see that his brown tunic was fraying and worn. The Duke should have looked out of place among the immaculate uniformed officers. It was mildly irritating that he did not. The brown tunic stretched across wide shoulders, a worn brown belt cinched a slim waist. The man was big, but he carried not an excess ounce. And he was wearing his sword—he was the only non-uniformed man in the courtyard to be doing so.

  She felt a pull on her skirt. ‘He will see you watching him, despoina.’

  ‘Too late,’ Theodora observed, as that darkly handsome face turned up to the window.

  Duke Nikolaos grinned and, with something of a flourish, gave her an elaborate bow. He clapped the Varangian officer on the arm and continued towards the steps that led into the Boukoleon.

  ‘I wonder if he’s coming to meet you?’

  ‘Dressed like a stable hand? He wouldn’t dare.’

  Sophia gave Theodora a look that told her that Sophia believed the Duke would dare anything. In her heart Theodora knew Sophia was right.

  ‘He is not in the least like Peter,’ Theodora murmured.

  ‘No, my lady, I do not believe he is.’

  As Theodora pondered on the nature of the Duke’s character, a nervous shiver shot through her. She really did not think she could marry him.

  Chapter Four

  The formal introduction of Duke Nikolaos of Larissa to Princess Theodora Doukaina did not take place until late that afternoon. Lord Basil, the Palace Chamberlain, was in charge of the ceremony and Lord Basil was not to be hurried; the ceremony must be perfect. In the Palace courtyards and gardens, shadows lengthened to allow for final preparations. Theodora was left with hours to consider how Emperor Alexios might react if she were to repudiate his most trusted general in public.

  Sophia and Thetis took her to the bathhouse on the ground floor for another bath. They hustled her back into the apartment to redress her hair, and all the while Theodora found herself worrying over the matter of her impending marriage. She fretted almost as much as Martina fretting over a new tooth.

  Theodora had sent a subtle plea for help to her cousin, Empress Irene, in which she confessed to having misgivings over the match. Her message had been carefully worded, to avoid giving offence to the Emperor’s most loyal general. All afternoon, Theodora waited anxiously for the reply, praying she would not be summoned to meet either her cousin or the Emperor. She was not prepared to lie to them, and if she were asked about Peter or Martina, she did not know what she would say.

  Empress Irene’s reply came when Theodora was in the windowless dressing room adjoining her bedchamber. Clad in her undertunic, she was peering through the jumpy light of a sputtering wall lamp at a violet silk gown Sophia had picked out for her. ‘Not that one, Sophia, I have never liked black braiding.’

  ‘Excuse me, Princess.’ A maidservant stood under the arch that led back to the bedchamber, holding out a silver salver with small scroll on it. ‘From the Empress, despoina.’

  Snatching up the scroll, Theodora ran her nail under the seal and moved nearer the wall lamp.

  ‘What does it say?’ Sophia asked.

  Theodora stared in disbelief at the formal reply, a reply which made her wonder if the Empress had read her message properly. It was not much help. ‘The Empress thanks me for my good wishes on her husband’s accession. In return she sends heartfelt congratulations on the occasion of my betrothal.’

  ‘Congratulations? She is attending the betrothal ceremony?’

  ‘Empress Irene begs to be excused, she is sure I will understand. She has joined His Majesty in doing penance for the unrest that took place in the City before his enthronement. She does not consider it would be appropriate for her to attend such a joyful celebration.’

  Sophia sent her a concerned look. ‘It sounds as though the Empress approves the match.’

  ‘It would seem so, for she goes on to say that a marriage between myself and the Duke would be in the best interests of the state. She understands that I feel nervous—nerves are natural, she says. I must be strong. My cousin will pray for me.’ Theodora looked blankly at another gown Sophia had unearthed from one of the packing cases. ‘Thank you, Sophia, that one will do.’

  It would seem there was no escape. Yet.

  ‘The Empress is very young, my lady,’ Sophia said. ‘It might have been better to have written to the Emperor...’

  Theodora shook her head. Duke Nikolaos was known to be close to the Emperor, it was likely His Majesty’s reply would have mirrored his wife’s. ‘In the circumstances, I have decided not to draw attention to myself.’

  ‘That might be wise, my lady.’

  ‘Lord, it seems I have little choice but to attend the ceremony and pray the right moment comes.’

  ‘The right moment, despoina?’

  Theodora looked down at her hands, astonished to see they were shaking. Nerves.

  Nervousness was not something that Theodora usually experienced and she did not like it. It was the Duke’s fault.

  ‘I shall know the right moment, when it comes.’

  ‘Do you think your aunt might attend, despoina?’

  ‘I hope so, but I am uncertain. She may not consider it appropriate. As wife to two previous Emperors, both of whom have been ousted, her position at Court is tenuous.’

  It was a pity, because Theodora would have welcomed some moral support. An afternoon of thought had confirmed her decision. She could not marry the Duke. Such a man, a man of experience, would find out first one secret, and then another, and then...

  If only she could be the virgin he expected...if only... But, no, Theodora would never wish her daughter unborn.

  Sweet Mother, His Majesty would not thank her if she repudiated his most powerful general in public. Yet given that they were not supposed to meet until formally introduced, what choice did she have?

  How will the Duke react?

  ‘Excuse me, Princess?’ The maidservant was back under the arch. ‘Duke Nikolaos is waiting to greet you in the small throne room.’

  Theodora swallowed. ‘I shall be down directly.’

  She stood like a statue in the middle of her dressing room, arms held out slightly from her sides, and submitted to being eased into another violet gown. Her ladies were efficient. Thetis twitched the gown into place; there was a sharp pull on her scalp as Sophia adjusted a hairpin. Finally, the hard weight of a gold diadem settled on her head. She grimaced.

  ‘You are fortunate to have such thick hair, my lady,’ Sophia said. ‘It cushions the weight.’

  Thetis fluttered about, swiftly slipping amethyst rings on to her fingers, pushing a heavy enamelled bracelet on to her wrist, finding ear-rings to match the rings. ‘The Chamberlain Lord Basil will be there, my lady,’ Thetis said. ‘And there will be other generals besides Duke Nikolaos, I am sure.’

  ‘No doubt.’ Theodora looked down as Sophia lifted her feet, one after the other, to push on her silk slippers. ‘In her letter, the Empress says she is sending a couple of her ladies to wish me well.’

  ‘That is kind of her,’ Sophia said.

  Theodora took a violet and gold fringed shawl and draped it about her s
houlders. Her stomach was churning. ‘Please attend me, both of you.’

  Heart pounding, head high, she led them through the double doors. Pearls swung from her diadem; amethyst earrings gently tapped the side of her neck.

  Ladies had emerged from all corners of the women’s quarters to see her, the marble hallway was lined with them. Indeed, half the population of the Palace seemed to be crushed into the stairwell. Theodora had known what to expect, but she had led a quieter life in Rascia and it was something of a burden to feel the pressure of so many eyes. It had been the same this morning when she had paraded about the City. It had been exhausting. With a flash of insight it came to her that the real reason for her exhaustion was not that she had stepped back into her life as an Imperial princess, it was that she was hiding so many secrets. Secrets are exhausting and I have too many of them.

  ‘Congratulations, my lady.’

  ‘All blessings upon you, Princess!’

  ‘Princess, I wish you a happy marriage—’

  ‘A fruitful marriage.’

  ‘With many children...’

  Someone tittered.

  Children...if only they knew...

  So many people had come to see her. Feeling as though she were walking to her execution, Theodora nodded to right and left and walked calmly on. Her violet skirt billowed and frothed about her ankles like sea foam. She went down past the ancient statues that lined the stairs; down past the painted frescoes—Diana, Achilles, Ariadne...

  All this fuss and I will bet my life that the Duke comes to greet me with the stink of horses still upon him.

  The thought brought a slight smile to her lips, a smile that was still there as, with the train of her skirt hissing behind her, she swept into the throne room.

  The throne room was as crowded as the stairway and filled with a murmuring that sounded like the hushing of waves on a distant shoreline. A phalanx of guards formed a human screen between her and the mosaics on the walls. Noblemen and courtiers jostled each other, vying for places, vying for attention in finery that was bright as a rainbow. The air was still and stuffy, the scent of clashing perfumes overwhelming.