Bound To The Barbarian. Carol Townend
boring into her. ‘But…but he is a barbarian!’
The Princess’s expression softened. ‘Not all barbarians are cast in the same mould as Vukan, Katerina.’
‘Yes, I understand that. But the Commander will soon realise that I am no princess. My speech…it…it is not that of a lady.’
Her mistress shook her head. ‘It may not have been when you joined us, but it is now. Besides, he mistook you at the gate.’
‘It is one thing to mistake someone who is speaking through a grille and quite another to embark on a journey with them and not discover their true nature. The Commander will find me out and…and …’
‘He is a foreigner, as you have pointed out. A barbarian’s ear will not be finely tuned to the nuances of our language. He will not find you out.’ Rising, Princess Theodora shook out her skirts. ‘You have a quick mind. If you think about it, you will realise that you already know how to be me.’ Her eyes grew warm. ‘You have been my servant for…how long?’
‘Two years, my lady.’
‘That is quite long enough for you to have learned my mannerisms. As I said, we are similar in looks and colouring.’
‘But…but—he said you are summoned to the Great Palace in Constantinople, I have never set foot there! If by some miracle I were to reach it undiscovered, it would become obvious at once that the Palace is unknown to me.’
Princess Theodora frowned. ‘Ye…es, I see, that is a good point.’ Her brow cleared. ‘I know! You shall take several of my ladies with you. No one will think twice about the Princess travelling with her ladies-in-waiting, indeed, it will be expected. I shall make certain that Lady Anna is among them—she knows the Palace better than anyone. On the journey, she can describe it to you. She knows whom you will be likely to meet, she knows palace protocols, and—’
Palace protocols. Katerina was beginning to feel more than a little queasy. She wanted to help the Princess, but this …!
She shook her head. ‘My lady, it won’t do. What if I were summoned to meet the Emperor? He would know at once that I am an impostor.’
Her mistress gave a sad smile. ‘My real uncle, if you remember, was supplanted and put in a monastery. This Emperor has never met me.’
‘But didn’t he marry Emperor Michael’s wife? Surely she will realise—’
The Princess made a dismissive gesture. ‘Katerina, it is ten years since I was last at the palace, I was a child. No one will know that you are not me, I promise you.’ She smiled and clasped her hands together. ‘I would not ask you to do this if I thought there was any danger for you. I am sure Commander Ashfirth will treat you courteously, everything will be fine. A few weeks, Katerina, that is all I ask, a few weeks. Martina will be stronger then. And think, you will have riches and a grant of land.’
‘If I survive. Surely it must be dangerous?’
‘As I said, you shall carry letters, which will exonerate you if this turns out badly. I have grown fond of you, you must know I would not have you suffer.’ She looked towards the doorway, and raised her voice. ‘Anna, are you out there?’
The doorway darkened. ‘Despoina?’
‘See if there is a scribe to be found in the convent. If not, find me ink and parchment.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Princess Theodora looked intently at her. ‘Don’t worry, Katerina. You shall take your orders with you. And we have a good two hours to transform you into a princess.’
Two hours. Katerina stared at the purple slippers and then at baby Martina. Her palms felt sticky. It was all very well for the Princess to assume that her letters would be taken as gospel, but in Katerina’s experience men who were deceived did not take kindly to those who deceived them. A pair of penetrating blue eyes flashed into her mind. And the first person she would have to convince was none other than the Commander of the Varangian Guard. Saint Titus, help me.
‘Katerina, I am relying on you. A few weeks, once you have reached the Palace. That is all that I ask, just a few weeks.’
While he waited for the two hours to pass, Ashfirth walked with Brand to the top of the hill. His leg had had enough of riding, instinct was telling him that it needed this different form of exercise or it would stiffen up, perhaps permanently. They had spent too long at sea.
They stopped just short of the summit. A little way below them lay the convent with its crumbling walls and vegetable garden. Next to it, a small orchard was bursting into life, there were green shoots everywhere. The wind ruffled Ashfirth’s hair; it had broken up the clouds and was pushing them across the sky—white sails scudding across blue. A gust caught the fruit trees and the branches waved.
Past the convent and orchard, the hillside sloped more steeply, it was thickly covered in bushes and scrub as it ran down to the sea. The sea was choppy, the waves flecked with foam. In the deeper waters, a striped red-and-white sail was slowly progressing from west to east in the same direction their ship would follow.
‘Brand, is that a Greek vessel?’
‘Can’t say at this distance, sir. It might be, but it could just as easily be Norman.’
‘That is my fear.’ Ashfirth heaved a sigh. There seemed to be rather too much Norman activity in these waters—the Emperor’s rule here was definitely under threat. He must make a report to that effect when they returned. ‘We will have to be circumspect.’
The port—and their own ships—lay at the end of a promontory that was bordered on one side by sea and on the other by salt marshes.
‘Do you think the Princess will make difficulties, sir?’
Those soft brown eyes came into Ashfirth’s mind and he shook his head. ‘She will know she cannot run for ever. By the time the month turns, Princess Theodora will be safely where she belongs, in the women’s quarters of the Great Palace.’
Brand gave him a straight look. ‘Before we left, people were muttering—taxes, rising prices. Are you expecting trouble when we get back, Commander?’
Ashfirth hesitated. His loyalty was to the Emperor, but he did not believe in keeping his men in the dark. And Brand spoke no less than the truth—when they left Constantinople, several disturbing rumours had been doing the rounds.
‘Rising prices are the least of it,’ he said. ‘There are those in the army talking of acclaiming a rival emperor.’
‘General Alexios Komnenos?’
‘The same.’ In Ashfirth’s private opinion, General Alexios would make a far better emperor than Nikephoros, who had grown old overnight and who seemed to have given up on government. The Empire needed a firm hand, particularly—Ash scowled at the red-and-white sails across the water—with so many Normans nibbling away at the boundaries.
‘General Alexios is not the only pretender to the throne, ‘ Brand said.
‘Apparently not. One way or another, a storm is looming.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Brand considered. ‘Rioting?’
Ashfirth grimaced. ‘It is possible.’ The price of wheat in the city had risen to such an extent that many were unable to afford it. Time was when the Emperor had handed out bread free to those who had need of it, but that had been years ago. The current Emperor, shut up in his palace, was blind to the needs of his citizens and his unpopularity was growing by the day. ‘Whatever happens our duty is clear. We are not there to control the populace, we serve the Emperor.’
And pray that he heeds the contents of my report. Ash wanted no repetition of the shocking incident that had taken place a couple of years ago, when a band of infuriated Varangians had actually attacked the Emperor they were meant to be protecting. It had happened before Ash’s promotion, and he was determined