Betrothed to the Barbarian

by Carol Townend

  ‘I shall be delighted. Please convey my thanks to Her Majesty. I look forward to seeing her tonight.’

  No sooner had Lady Anthousa drifted out, than Theodora linked arms with Sophia and hurried to the great doors. Their escort jumped to attention.

  ‘We are ready,’ she said. ‘Did you send to the stables? Are the horses ready?’

  The Athanatoi officer bowed. ‘Yes, despoina, the horses are waiting.’

  * * *

  Duke Nikolaos was not on the polo field as his wife believed. Nor was he in his barracks, or closeted with his Emperor. He was in an anteroom in the Boukoleon Palace, attempting to persuade a fellow general that reform of the army was more than a good idea, it was a necessity.

  ‘His Majesty must see the need for change,’ Nikolaos said, leaning against a frescoed wall bearing a lurid depiction of Andromeda chained to her rock. ‘Particularly after his mercenaries ran wild on entering the City. That cannot be allowed to happen again.’

  ‘You want rid of the mercenaries?’

  ‘Ideally, yes.’

  As the discussion progressed, Nikolaos caught his mind wandering as he wondered what his wife was doing. He could hardly keep Princess Theodora imprisoned in the apartment. It was a delicate situation. He had asked Elias to keep an eye on her that morning. If Elias came to say she had left the Palace, he would have little choice but to have her followed. Until he knew precisely where her loyalties lay, he would keep her close.

  ‘You’re saying we need to return to the more traditional regiments?’ General Isaac was saying, stroking his beard.

  ‘I’m saying we need soldiers with ties to the land; we need men who care about more than money and plunder, and carrying off women.’

  ‘It’s all very well being idealistic, Niko, but the old regiments are weak—there aren’t enough men. Without mercenaries we are not at full strength.’

  Nikolaos nodded. ‘That’s true at the moment. We need them because the Empire has been managed by out-of-condition courtiers who wouldn’t know a lance from a pike. The army has been run down and revenues that might have been used on good men have been wasted on useless vulgarities such as this.’ His lip curled as he gestured at the wall-painting behind him. ‘We need training, discipline, order.’

  ‘Excuse me, my lord?’ Elias rapped on the doorframe.

  Nikolaos took one look at his manservant and his heart dropped to his boots. ‘The Princess has left the apartment?’

  ‘She is going riding in the City, my lord. She and Lady Sophia are on their way to the stables.’

  ‘I trust they are taking an escort?’

  ‘Of course, my lord.’

  What is she doing? If only he could believe she was simply reacquainting herself with the City. Last night his questions had once again been deflected. First there had been those tears. Nikolaos had not had the heart to interrogate Theodora whilst they had been eating. And later, in their bedchamber, she had distracted him by other means.

  Shamefully easily.

  And then, before he had known it, the morning light had crept on to their bed, and Lady Sophia’s appearance with a bevy of servants had signalled that the time for private conversation was over.

  At least she is taking an escort. Whatever she is doing, it must be aboveboard if she has my men with her. And they will protect her. Nevertheless...what is she doing? His mind would not be at ease until he knew.

  ‘Tell Paul to saddle Hercules,’ he said. ‘No, not Hercules, he’s too conspicuous, I’ll take Hermes. I won’t be a moment.’

  ‘Very good, my lord.’

  Elias went out and Nikolaos moved to follow him, boots ringing loud on the mosaic floor. He glanced back at his fellow general. ‘Think about it, Isaac. I am making no secret of my intentions. Our army needs to be sharpened up. Major changes. I intend to convince His Majesty of the need for urgent action. I would value your support. Your ideas.’

  General Isaac held out his hand. ‘My support you have already. And as for ideas, there are one or two I have been saving for just such a moment.’

  They shook hands and parted on the steps of the Boukoleon. From there, Nikolaos went straight to the Imperial Stables.

  * * *

  Nikolaos reined in, bemused. Elias had brought him to one of the more prosperous residential streets, just off the Mese. Here, grand houses were hedged about by high walls and not visible from the street. Nevertheless, Nikolaos knew exactly whose house lay behind that wall—he had been here many times.

  ‘This is Commander Ashfirth’s house.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘And the Princess went inside? You are sure?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Cut into the wall was a solid door and a wide gate, both were closed. The gate led straight to the stables. For a foot soldier, Commander Ashfirth had an uncommon liking for horses. As did Princess Theodora. Somehow, Nikolaos doubted that his wife had come to share her interest in horses with the Commander.

  Why the hell is she here?

  ‘Knock for admittance, Elias. I will be joining my wife for a time.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Katerina’s courtyard was warm and sheltered; high walls warded off the wind and the sun had climbed high enough to play in the budding branches of a plane tree.

  Surrounded by ladies, by shawls and cushions, Theodora sat on a stone bench with her green skirts tucked neatly about her and Martina firmly on her lap. The shadows of unfurling leaves shifted on the paving at Theodora’s feet. Another infant was being cradled by one of the servants, a small child was rolling a ball the length of the courtyard, and the air was filled with the sounds of chattering ladies and of cooing doves.

  Theodora smiled as Martina gurgled up at her. Small, chubby fingers reached for her earrings.

  ‘No, you don’t, my dove,’ Theodora murmured, delving into the pile of shawls for the distraction of a silver rattle. ‘It is a relief to see she has stopped teething, Jelena. Did she wake you in the night?’

  ‘No more than can be expected, despoina.’

  ‘She is settling in well, my lady,’ Katerina said. ‘You need have no fears for her here.’

  ‘I know that.’ Theodora’s heart clenched. There was no point reminding everyone how hard it was not having her daughter near her, her ladies understood how she felt. If it had been painful having to stop feeding Martina, this separation was agonising.

  The smart clip of hoofs coming from the direction of the stables had her looking sharply at Katerina. ‘Are you expecting visitors?’

  ‘Not that I am aware of.’ Katerina gestured at a maidservant. ‘Lucia, please go and see who it is. We do not wish to be disturbed. If they insist on seeing me, take them into the house and offer them refreshments. I will join them shortly.’

  Theodora bent over her daughter and pressed the silver rattle into her hand. Martina smiled and cooed and waved, and the tinkling of tiny bells drowned out the sound of the ladies and the doves in the tree.

  Without warning, silence fell over the courtyard.

  Theodora glanced up and the courtyard seemed to tilt. Nikolaos! He was striding towards them with the confidence of a man who appeared very much at home in Commander Ashfirth’s house. If the maidservant had told him Katerina did not wish to be disturbed, she doubted he had heard her.

  Katerina went to greet him as Theodora, mind in a tangle, leaped to her feet. Martina’s rattle was suddenly very loud.

  Vaguely, Theodora was aware of her husband bowing to Katerina and introducing himself. His wedding crown glinted in the sunlight. ‘I assume you are Katerina. My apologies for bursting in like this. My name is Nikolaos of Larissa, I am a friend of your husband’s.’

  ‘Good day, my lord,’ Katerina said. ‘You are most welcome, but I am afraid you are too late to see Ashfirth, he is escorting His Majesty—’

  ‘It is my wife I have come to see,’ Nikolaos replied.

  Avoiding his eyes, Theodora thrust Martina at Jelena and something about th
e movement—its jerkiness, her sudden tension—startled a whimper from her daughter. ‘I thank you for letting me hold her,’ Theodora said, as Martina, who had been content on her mother’s lap and resented being bundled about, dropped the rattle and let out a full-throated wail. Gesturing to include the other baby, and the child playing with the ball, Theodora smiled at Katerina. ‘You have done well to save these children, Katerina. I fear I do not have your knack with them.’

  Nikolaos watched his wife like a hawk as she hastened towards him, green skirts whispering across the stone flags.

  ‘Nikolaos.’ When she offered him her hand, he noted she was wearing the ring he had given her, he also noted a slight tremor in her fingers. ‘I thought you were practising on the polo ground this morning.’

  ‘That’s this afternoon. I had a conference this morning, but I have postponed it.’ Nikolaos had been brought up short when he had first entered the courtyard. The delight on Theodora’s face as she had gazed down at that baby had, quite simply, taken his breath away. She had looked so beautiful, as she watched the little one with such longing, with such adoration. In that moment, she had put him in mind of the Madonna.

  She wants a child, I will give her one. It was a startling thought. Except that when she had looked up and seen him, all delight had been wiped from her face, she had frozen with obvious fear. She fears me? How in hell has that happened? Her change of expression when she saw me...

  What had happened to the woman he had walked with in the Palace gardens, the mysterious, engaging woman who brought his protective instincts to the fore and had convinced him that their marriage would work? Did he dream her up? And where was the sensuous woman who shared his bed? Could this frightened, suspicious woman be one and the same?

  I told her that marriage to me would keep Prince

  Djuradj at bay. She is safe now—I thought she understood that. Why is she still so fearful?

  As Nikolaos looked down into his wife’s beautiful, long-lashed eyes, eyes that he was learning held many secrets, he realised Katerina was addressing him. He gave her a distracted glance. Like his wife, Katerina was small and dark and very pretty, though Katerina would never hold a candle to Theodora’s breathtaking beauty.

  ‘Would you care for wine, my lord?’ Katerina was saying. ‘Ashfirth has bought part of a consignment recently shipped in from Crete. It is worth trying. We also have mead, if you prefer.’

  ‘No, thank you, Katerina, I—’ Nikolaos broke off, his gaze sharpening.

  Katerina’s eyes were uncannily similar to his wife’s, they even had the same little green flecks. In truth, when the two women stood side by side, they might be taken for twins. The resemblance—height, build, colouring—it was extraordinary. He took Katerina’s arm and urged her closer to Theodora. ‘Stand there, if you please. Be still. Good Lord, has anyone ever commented on the resemblance between you and the Princess?’

  Both women flushed and the resemblance was, if anything, strengthened.

  ‘Good Lord,’ Nikolaos repeated, staring.

  ‘It is a coincidence,’ Theodora murmured, breaking the spell. In a swirl of silk, she embraced Katerina. ‘Thank you for letting me see the children. I shall visit again, if I may.’

  ‘You are welcome any time, despoina.’

  ‘Thank you, thank you.’ Theodora hurried to the woman holding the baby and dropped a swift kiss on the child’s forehead. She looked over her shoulder at Nikolaos. ‘Will you escort me back to the Palace, my lord?’

  ‘Assuredly.’ Somewhat bemused at her rush to leave—it seemed she couldn’t get away quickly enough—Nikolaos let her take his arm and allowed her to hustle him out of the courtyard.

  On the ride back to the Imperial Stables, Theodora couldn’t seem to stop talking, so he let her tell him about Katerina’s plans for the children. Apparently they were slaves she had bought at the market. Her words washed over him, while on another level of his mind his thoughts ran on. There were two images in his head and he was unable to reconcile them. One was Theodora sitting peacefully on the bench with the baby, the other was her sudden rush to leave. She was quite content, until I arrived. And my remark on the similarity between herself and Katerina made matters worse. What is going on?

  Nikolaos should have had enough of women and their secrets—his mother’s behaviour ought to have ensured it. But with every day that went by, he was becoming more and more entangled with his mysterious wife. He liked her. He could not stop thinking about her. She cannot be a threat to the Empire. He would take his oath on a fragment of the True Cross that Theodora would die rather than ally herself in any way with the Zetan Prince.

  There were moments when unravelling the mysteries surrounding his wife seemed more important than his ambitions for reforming the Imperial army!

  * * *

  As they rode through the Palace gates and received the salutes of the guard, he shot her a sideways glance. The bond of affection between her and Commander Ashfirth’s wife had been clear. And despite what she had said in the courtyard, Theodora was good with children; the swift kiss she had pressed to the baby’s forehead had looked like a blessing.

  Secrets. He sighed as they trotted into the stable yard. The devil of it was that he wanted this woman, his princess, to share her secrets with him. He didn’t want her to mistrust him any more than he wanted to mistrust her.

  Nikolaos was frowning as he helped his wife dismount. He was past caring that his mother had let years pass before sharing her secret with him. Indeed, it might have been better if his mother had never made her confession, if she had kept her sordid secret to herself.

  Theodora, on the other hand—he offered her his arm and together they took the path that led to the Boukoleon—Theodora had such a way with her, he wanted to know everything about her. He wanted her to confide in him, he wanted her trust. Nikolaos couldn’t think why this was becoming so important. He didn’t love her. Perhaps it was important simply because he didn’t want their marriage to become the sham that his mother’s had become. Lord Gregorios had been a fine man—he had deserved better than to be betrayed.

  There was a bitter taste in his mouth. Lord Gregorios was not my real father. He clenched his jaw. Did he know? Did Lord Gregorios know that Mother had been unfaithful?

  * * *

  The small banquet in the Great Hall of the women’s quarters passed quickly, but not quickly enough. Even a relatively informal meal had enough ceremony and protocol to make time drag. As was customary, Theodora arrived in the reception chamber before the Empress. She was to sit with her cousin at the head of the table, in the place of honour.

  While Theodora and the other ladies waited for Empress Irene to arrive, she stifled her impatience for the whole business to be over. It wasn’t that she was eager to return to her apartment, where she was in no doubt that her bridegroom awaited her, but the thought of hours of tedious ritual and ceremony was frankly alarming. If she made a false step, she would cause a scandal. She must smile at every lady who caught her eye. She must try to remember everyone’s names, a task that was impossible, given that apart from her waiting women, she had not seen these people for years. She must...

  ‘Good evening, Lady Anthousa. How lovely to see you again. Good evening, Lady Euphemia.’

  A trumpet sounded and a flurry in the doorway announced the arrival of a young woman. Empress Irene! Quiet dropped over the hall; ladies sank into deep curtsies.

  Little more than a girl, the Empress was wearing a rich purple gown, an ornate jewel-studded diadem and a golden collar of great magnificence. As if that wasn’t enough to announce her status, the train of ladies following in her wake removed all doubt.

  Theodora remembered the etiquette—her rank dictated she must be the first to greet her cousin. ‘Good evening, Empress.’

  ‘Princess Theodora?’ The Empress caught her hands. ‘How lovely to see you! You will sit at my side, we have much to talk about.’

  ‘It will be my pleasure, Your Majesty.’


  Theodora and the Empress took their seats at the head of the table and the Empress signalled for the others to take their places.

  Fish soup was served in silver platters; it was cold and over-salted, but Theodora praised it, as was expected. Platters of roast boar were brought in and a glazed boar’s head, having been paraded around the hall—yet more ceremony—was placed directly in front of the Empress. Theodora watched the young Empress pick at her food and remembered her penitential fasting was not over until

  Ascentiontide.

  The boar was well cooked—it had been flavoured with thyme and rosemary—but, like the fish soup, it was cold. There was roast swan and fish sauce. Fish sauce was an acquired taste Theodora knew was inherited from Roman times. Tangy and highly salted, one could eat it with anything. There was goat in a rich sauce with pine nuts and raisins...

  She felt sorry for the Empress and, more than once, saw her casting longing looks at the spiced breads and honey pastries, at the dried fruits and nuts...

  * * *

  At last the feast had come to a close and Theodora found herself back in her bedchamber with Sophia assisting her to disrobe.

  ‘The Empress is so young,’ Sophia said, chattily. ‘I knew, of course, but even so it came as a surprise.’

  ‘I believe she is fifteen.’ Theodora handed Sophia her bracelets and rings to put in the strongbox and was moving to the ewer when she noticed Martina’s coral teething-ring lying on the bed. She picked it up as Sophia emerged from the dressing chamber.

  ‘Sophia, did you put this here?’

  ‘No, my lady, I have no idea how that got there. Most of Martina’s things are already at Katerina’s, this must have got left behind. I am sorry.’

  Uneasy, Theodora turned the teething-ring over. It came to her that someone had deliberately placed it on the bed, but she could not think why that should be.

  ‘Princess, look...’

  Sophia had found a scrap of vellum. Theodora’s breath caught, she had seen a similar piece before; one very like it had been flung into the palanquin on her wedding day.