Bound To The Barbarian. Carol Townend
seem to have occurred to her that if she fell, those boulders on the hillside would cut her to ribbons. Katerina hardly dared move. Still, it was a relief to see Lady Anna smile. Lady Anna was not in the habit of confiding in Katerina, but Katerina had received the distinct impression that Lady Anna shared Princess Theodora’s reluctance to return to Constantinople—she had heard her mutter something about not wanting to see her father. Now that was an emotion Katerina could understand.
One of Caesar’s hoofs sent a stone rattling down the hill. Katerina stifled a moan. I must remember my dignity at all times, I am meant to be the Princess.
But oh, everything was going horribly wrong. Already.
Several ladies were meant to be travelling with her, all of whom had sworn to help her, to cover up when she made a mistake. But he was insistent that the other ladies—and that included the Princess—were to travel on the Varangian galley.
What could she do? She had not been born to command, and this man had his reasons for insisting she travelled separately from the entourage. In any case, whatever she said, it was unlikely he would listen.
Katerina’s fingers dug into the front edge of the saddle; she was gripping it so hard the white of her bones could be seen. It was bad enough that she should have to impersonate the Princess when the whole entourage was on hand to help her, but to be made to travel with just one lady! Holy Mother, help me …
She could feel him at her back. Warm. Strong. He had removed his body armour for the ride back to the port because he wanted no one to realise he was a Varangian. They were to travel under false colours.
If only he knew.
Nevertheless, the fact that he had removed his body armour was a mercy, otherwise that coat of chainmail would have torn Princess Theodora’s silk gown to shreds. Her mistress had generously given it to her. Katerina had hoped that, in a few weeks, when she had carried out her orders and had truly earned it, the gown would still be in one piece. She had never worn such a delicate gown, had never dreamed it might be hers.
Below, the rocks were still clawing their way out of the sea. Katerina’s heart thumped. She looked swiftly away and forced her mind elsewhere.
Who could have imagined that repaying her debt to the Princess would become so complicated so soon? I must remember that if all goes well I will have wealth as well as land of my own. When this is over, I must ask the Princess if the land can be somewhere other than Crete, I have no wish to return home. Dear Lord, for the Princess’s sake, let me succeed. Do not let the Commander find me out.
The Princess had ordered her to act as though she were a princess. And on the voyage to Constantinople, Ashfirth Saxon wanted her to play the part of a princess pretending to be a noblewoman. And if that were not enough, she must not forget that as far as the sailors were concerned, Ashfirth Saxon was a rich merchant.
‘My lady,’ he had said. ‘From this moment you cannot address me as “Commander". I am Ashfirth Saxon.’
What a nightmare! By the end of the voyage, I will surely be insane.
A seagull screeched past a foot above their heads. The stallion snorted and tossed his black mane.
A whimper escaped. I am doing this for the Princess, for baby Martina.
Commander Ashfirth’s hand came to rest on hers.
‘My lady, you are quite safe.’
Safe? I am in your arms, how can I be safe? You are a man; you are Commander of the Varangian Guard; you are not Greek, you were not even born in the Empire. You are a barbarian.
Relax. He believes you to be the Princess, you will be safe.
Katerina shot another look towards the sea and the pointy rocks, and almost moaned aloud. Quickly, she brought her gaze level with the path, and hung on for dear life.
Her veil fluttered, it had to be blowing in his face.
‘Excuse me, my lady.’ Releasing her, Commander Ashfirth reached out and caught at the fabric. There was a slight pull on her scalp as he matter of factly twisted it into a rope and pushed it over her shoulder. She said nothing. Since she wasn’t about to let go of the edge of the saddle, it was an intimacy she must forgive him. His arm came back round her, her body was pulled snug against his.
‘Too steep,’ she muttered, ‘it is too steep here.’ And you are too close.
Commander Ashfirth’s saddle had clearly not been designed with two people in mind, but to give him his due, he had attempted to cushion it for her. He had called for a thick woollen blanket, but the wool was coarse and her thighs itched.
My legs are showing. It is not very dignified. He must realise I am not the Princess, he must …
Another sideways glance at the sea below had panic bubble up inside.
‘Relax, my lady,’ his deep voice murmured. ‘The path levels off shortly, the marshes are only a little way ahead and it is flat there.’
His thighs were enclosing hers. As she glanced at them, her sense of panic intensified. Before she had been trembling, now she was rigid. Old terrors. She had feared this might happen.
Distract yourself. He is a barbarian, but he will not hurt you. You are the Princess.
His chausses were grey, made from linen of a particularly fine and even weave. The best quality. The muscles of his thighs were taut and firm. Quickly, she looked away.
The horse swayed on down the path. Katerina had no stirrups, there was nothing except the Commander to prevent her from slipping sideways. What if she fell? Would he think the less of her if she grabbed hold of his knee?
Talk to him, distract yourself. Remember your dignity.
Katerina cleared her throat and said the first thing that came into her head.
‘Command—’ hastily she corrected herself ‘—sir, I did not realise Varangians possessed horses.’
‘Not all of us do. As you are aware, we are primarily foot soldiers, but those of us who can afford it keep horses.’
When he spoke, it was with the easy confidence of a man sure of his place in the world. Through the fabric of her twisted-up veil, his breath was warm on the back of her head. ‘I see. Sir, there is something I would like you to explain.’
‘My lady, I am entirely at your service.’
‘You said that we are in a hurry because Normans have been seen in Dyrrachion?’
‘Yes. I suspect they are scouting for weaknesses in the city defences, but I cannot be certain. However, Normans are opportunists and I am determined they must have no inkling of who you are.’
‘You fear they are spies, sir?’
She felt him nod. ‘It seems likely.’
‘And this is why you must spirit me away with a reduced escort?’
Another nod. ‘Exactly. The ship I have reserved for you is less ostentatious than our galley. My hope is that the world will see us as prosperous traders. That is why I am taking only half of my men on the first boat. We shall, of course, conceal our arms and uniforms. Captain Brand and the other men will escort your ladies, and they will be prominently armed, as befitting the escort of a princess.’
‘Can I not persuade you to let more of my entourage travel with me?’ Katerina did not like to beg, but it would bolster her confidence to have more of the ladies about her.
‘I am afraid not. Captain Brand has been ordered to make much fanfare when your women and their servants embark on the galley. What with their baggage and so forth, I am in hopes that he will spin it out for a couple of days.’
‘Thus distracting attention from us?’