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‘Ashfirth Saxon?’ Princess Theodora’s tone was scornful, but Katerina heard the quiver in it and pitied her. Her mistress really did not wish to marry Duke Nikolaos. ‘Who is this Ashfirth Saxon?’
He’s tall and fierce-looking. He has wind-burned skin. His hair gleams like jet and his eyes—Heavens!— how did a man with such dark hair come by eyes so blue? Katerina’s gut clenched as she inched the shutter open, the better to study him. Ashfirth Saxon had eyes that were almost as turquoise as the stones set in the cover of Princess Theodora’s book of psalms. They made a disturbing contrast with the jet-black hair.
‘He says he is Commander of the Varangian Guard and—’
‘The Varangians? Holy Mother, don’t tell me the Emperor has sent his personal guard!’ The Princess tugged at the sleeve of Katerina’s gown, bracelets chinking. ‘Are you certain? Can you see battle-axes?’
‘Yes, despoina. My lady, the men on horseback all have axes and—’
‘They are mounted?’ The Princess’s voice calmed. ‘Varangian guards usually fight on foot.’
‘Not all are mounted, my lady.’
‘Are they dressed for battle?’
‘They are wearing coats of mail, certainly. ‘
The Princess swore, using an oath that Katerina was certain ought never to be uttered within the walls of a convent.
‘Princess!’
‘Don’t be such a prude, Katerina. You know where most of these nuns have come from—they will have heard far worse, I am sure.’
Katerina doubted it, but she held her tongue. She should not have spoken up, it was not her place to criticise.
The Princess poked her in the ribs. ‘Are you sure you can see no sign of the Duke? His standard, perhaps?’
Peering past the iron bars, Katerina twisted her head from side to side, hoping to see the rest of the soldiers, but her view was limited. It was blocked by Ashfirth Saxon and his companion. So tall. Handsome devil, too. Except that he looks so angry. Ashfirth Saxon’s mouth was no longer smiling, it was set in a thin line. And those startling turquoise eyes might be looking at her past thick dark lashes, but they looked cold. Dispassionate. What did she expect? If this man was Commander of the Varangian Guard, the personal bodyguard to the Emperor, he would likely be more hard and ruthless than the rest.
Katerina cleared her throat. A guardsman’s battle-axe flashed in the sun. ‘I can see no standard, but they are very well armed. If I were you, I do not think I would want to keep this Ashfirth Saxon waiting.’
‘If you were me?‘ Princess Theodora’s voice became sharp. ‘You are insolent today, slave.’
Hurt sliced through Katerina like a blade. Slave. Well, that was what she had been until the Princess had rescued her—a slave. She had been one for so many years, it was a wonder the word had kept the power to wound, but wound it did. Particularly when it came from the lips of her princess, the princess who had freed her from the torture that her life as a slave had become. That Princess Theodora had sunk to remind Katerina of her past merely emphasised how repugnant she found the thought of marrying the Duke of Larissa.
Shooting the Princess a bleak glance—she was chewing her lip—Katerina’s heart softened. Her mistress was not by nature vindictive, as Katerina herself had good reason to know, it was simply that she was under too much strain. Duke Nikolaos terrified her. She knew it was not just slave girls who found themselves at the mercy of their menfolk.
Not even a princess can escape what men have planned for her!
The next moment a gentle hand reached for hers. ‘Katerina, forgive me?’
Katerina looked into the Princess’s eyes. Princess Theodora had eyes that Katerina had been assured mirrored her own almost exactly. They were, according to Lady Sophia, one of Princess Theodora’s ladies-in-waiting, the same shade of brown. Their eyes, Lady Sophia had said, had the same shape—they even had the same eyebrows. And the Princess’s mirror had confirmed it.
‘For what? You spoke the truth, despoina. Until you freed me, I was a slave.’
For a moment the old bitterness welled up and Katerina felt her heart harden. Her bitterness was not directed towards the princess who had bought and freed her, rather it was directed towards the man who had sold her into slavery. Her father.
Towards the Princess, Katerina felt only gratitude. She longed to be able to repay her for her generosity in offering Katerina—a peasant girl—a place in her aristocratic entourage and training her. But what could she—a maidservant—possibly have that a princess might desire?
A thoughtful expression came over Princess Theodora’s face. She leaned forwards and a beringed hand lifted to close the wooden shutter. From the other side of the gate, came the jangle of a bell and the bleat of a goat. A man laughed.
‘Katerina?’
‘My lady?’
‘Accompany me to the church. There is something I wish to meditate upon.’
‘Yes,despoina.’
When Princess Theodora, golden bracelets chinking in the light, linked arms with her, Katerina was unsurprised. This was more like the mistress she knew. Princess Theodora, niece of the Emperor himself, was a warm-hearted, even-handed woman who—while knowing of Katerina’s humble background—unfailingly treated her in the same way she treated her high-born ladies-in-waiting. Since taking Katerina under her wing, the Princess had taught Katerina the ways of the Court. She had taught her how to speak in a more refined manner—she had even taught her how to read.
Not many high-born ladies would even notice when a slave was being maltreated, but back in Rascia the Princess had noticed. Not many high-born ladies would then be willing to buy that slave to prevent her from further harm, but the Princess had done exactly that. And it was a rare woman indeed who would then go on to free the slave and offer her a position among her ladies.
If only there were some way of repaying her …
Lady Sophia and Lady Zoë made to follow them, but the Princess waved them away. ‘Leave us. I wish to offer up a few personal prayers, Katerina’s company will suffice.’
The church was cool and dark after the bright sunlight. Princess Theodora led Katerina to an alcove overlooked by a gaudily painted and earthy-looking statue of Saint Mary. Mary Magdalene, Katerina thought, lips twisting, the saint of fallen women everywhere. She shot her mistress a sidelong glance. Of course, how apt.
A couple of tallow candles lit the alcove and two nuns were kneeling before the statue. Reformed sinners? Perhaps. As the Princess and Katerina approached, the nuns glanced up, crossed themselves and scurried into the main church.
‘Katerina, I have a favour to ask and, out of all my ladies, you are the only one who might undertake it.’
‘Princess, from the moment you bought me in Rascia and gave me my freedom, I have been searching for a suitable way of thanking you. I would do anything for you!’
‘Anything? Be careful what you promise, Katerina.’ The Princess’s smile was strained. ‘You do not know what I may ask. It might be—’ she bit her lip ‘—somewhat dangerous.’
Katerina gripped her mistress’s hand. ‘I would do anything! I mean it, how could you think otherwise? What must I do? Tell me!’
‘No.’ Princess Theodora jerked her head away to stare at the cross on the altar. ‘It is too risky, I cannot ask it of you.’
‘Princess …’ Katerina moved closer. ‘I want to help you. Let me help you.’
Brown eyes looked steadily into brown. ‘If it were not for my…the baby…I would not think about asking. If only the Commander had not found us so soon.’ Her chest heaved. ‘Still, we cannot alter that, not now. We shall have to take it one step at a time.’
And then, to Katerina’s astonishment, the Princess’s hands went to the pins of her violet veil. ‘First, we shall see how this suits you.’ Then, gaze flickering towards the main church to ensure they were not overlooked, the Princess kicked off her jewelled sandals and nudged them towards Katerina. ‘And these, I want you to try these on for size.’ There was a flutter of silk as the veil was removed.
Katerina’s eyes went wide. ‘My lady?’
The Princess was looking her up and down, like a seamstress measuring someone for a new gown. ‘You are a little smaller than I, but we are almost of a height. Good. And it is most fortunate that our eyes are a match.’
A cold shiver ran down Katerina’s spine. She found herself staring at the jewelled sandals on the church flagstones.
‘Well? Try them on, Katerina. If they fit, you are going to meet with Commander Ashfirth to see what he has to say.’
Katerina swallowed. ‘That is how I am to repay you?’
The Princess, busily shaking out her veil, would not meet her gaze. ‘Perhaps. Now be quiet while I think, and put this on.’
Some minutes later, the snap of the shutter drew Ashfirth’s gaze back to the convent gate. He straightened and strode across.
Doe Eyes was back.
He knew her at once, even though this second time she was so heavily veiled that her eyes were barely visible. The soft fall of her veil had the look of fine silk, it was violet in colour and shot through with gold threads.
‘Commander Ashfirth!’
Her voice was still light and clear, but something about it had changed. Ashfirth was unable to put his finger on what that change was. Was it more forceful? More confident?
‘The Princess will see me?’
Behind the bars, Doe Eyes withdrew slightly. ‘Commander—’ her voice was cool ‘—it would please the Princess to know exactly why you are here.’
It would please the Princess.Ashfirth narrowed his eyes.This is a delaying tactic, she knows why I am here. ‘Am I addressing the Princess?’
He couldn’t read her, not without seeing her whole face—that damned veil hid too much. Everything but a slight flicker in the brown eyes.
‘Answer my question, if you please, Commander.’
At this moment, she certainly had the tone of a princess. Lofty. Calm. A gold thread winked in the light. This must be the Princess. Most likely she was irritated that he had caught her unprepared when he had first knocked. It didn’t escape him that she had ignored his question. He would be brief.
‘His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Nikephoros has commanded me to escort Princess Theodora back to the Great Palace at Constantinople.’
There was a pause, and again the doe’s eyes flickered. Her head turned to one side and Ashfirth caught a faint mutter of voices. If Doe Eyes was the Princess, and Ashfirth strongly suspected that she was, someone behind the gate was certainly advising her.
The brown eyes met his. ‘Is Duke Nikolaos with you?’
Ashfirth shook his head. ‘Duke Nikolaos will join you once you have reached Constantinople. The Emperor wishes you to reacquaint yourself with …’ Ashfirth paused to search for the right words, the diplomatic words. Peter, the Rascian princeling who had been her fiancé, was in the eyes of many Greeks a barbarian. The Imperial Court had been astonished when word had reached them that the Princess had allowed herself to become enamoured of him. ‘The Emperor wishes you to reacquaint yourself with life at the Palace.’
When Peter of Rascia had been killed in a petty border skirmish at the edge of his territory, the Emperor had been swift to arrange a second betrothal. Byzantine Princesses were valuable commodities, and as a member of a powerful family, this young woman would have been brought up on the idea. Her person could be traded according to the political needs of the time.
Ten years ago Emperor Michael had found it politically expedient to betroth her to the vassal ruler of Rascia. Had the Prince lived, the contract would have been honoured, but his death altered everything.
Today, it was less important to placate a minor kingdom at the far reaches of the Empire. A different Emperor occupied the throne, one who needed to look closer to home for support. The military aristocracy was crying out for change and Emperor Nikephoros needed every ally he could lay his hands on.
In offering the Duke of Larissa this well-born Princess for his bride, the Emperor hoped to placate him. Marriage with the Princess would, he hoped, ensure the Duke’s loyalty should the conflict among his generals come to a head.
The brown eyes stared into his. What is she thinking? Ashfirth was fully conscious that Princess Theodora would likely peg him for a barbarian in much the same way that the Imperial Court had thought her Rascian prince a barbarian. Ash was an Anglo-Saxon, a dispossessed Anglo-Saxon in charge of the Varangian Guard. The Court only tolerated him because of his loyalty to the Emperor and his skills as a leader and warrior. The citizens of Constantinople never forgot that the men of the Varangian Guard were mercenaries, barbarian mercenaries.
The woman behind the grille had her head tilted slightly to one side. She was obviously listening to her advisor, but those brown eyes were fixed on him. While the low muttering continued, Ashfirth was able to watch her quite openly. Something was telling him that this woman, princess or otherwise, had her secrets. He had not given up on trying to read her, but when the long eyelashes swept down, he had learned nothing.
‘Constantinople is a long sea journey away,’ she said, in that cool, carefully modulated voice. ‘You cannot expect a princess to be ready at the snap of your fingers. Be so good as to return on the morrow …’
Ashfirth felt a frown forming, he held it back. ‘Tomorrow? The Princess must have received the Emperor’s summons, she must know how…eager he is for her return to Court.’
He paused, gritting his teeth. The Princess had to have known someone was coming to escort her back to the capital! Ash had been informed that several letters had been sent. Not that a reply had ever been received. The Emperor had given her the benefit of the doubt; he had assumed her replies had been lost en route. Ashfirth was not so sure. Had she replied? Surely the Princess would not do the Emperor the discourtesy of simply ignoring his letters?
However, those doe’s eyes were looking steadily back at him, giving nothing away. And she was right, blast her. The journey was likely to take some time and there was no sense starting off on the wrong foot by naming her a liar. Especially if this was the Princess.
Keep it simple. Non-confrontational.
‘Our ship leaves this afternoon,’ he said.
Doe Eyes tipped her head to one side and listened to her counsellor.
‘Two hours,’ she said. ‘Come back in two hours.’
‘The Princess will be ready to leave?’
‘Yes.’
Nodding curtly, Ashfirth turned away. A light click informed him that the shutter had closed.
Two hours?
Make that four. The woman has not been born who can keep proper time. And this one is a princess who not only leaves the Emperor’s letters unanswered, but attempts to evade his summons to Court.
Catching Brand’s eyes on him, Ashfirth spread his hands. ‘Two hours, Captain. Tell half the men they have two hours before reporting back for duty. Something tells me that Princess Theodora won’t be too punctual.’
‘Two hours? Right, Commander.’
The Princess reached in front of Katerina to slide back the shutter and the tall, dark commander was cut off from sight.
‘Oh!’ Katerina said.
‘What?’
‘He has a limp.’
Princess Theodora looked blankly at her. ‘Who?’
‘Commander Ashfirth.’ The Princess’s dark eyes searched hers and Katerina felt her cheeks warm. ‘Yes, he’s limping. I didn’t notice at first, it is only a slight limp, but …’
When her mistress lifted an eyebrow at her, Katerina trailed to a halt—the Princess wasn’t remotely interested in Commander Ashfirth. Worse, she was looking at Katerina as though she had never seen her before, a slow smile dawning.
Inside the convent, the baby began to cry. The Princess smothered a small groan.
Katerina’s stomach clenched with foreboding. Hastily, she snatched at the pins of the violet veil and made to hand it back.
The Princess brushed it aside, and Katerina caught the glitter of tears.
‘Despoina, what is it?’
‘Katerina, I am sorry …’ Princess Theodora’s voice broke. She gave a weak smile ‘But I fear I am going to have to ask for your help after all.’
Katerina swallowed. ‘Are you?’
The Princess nodded. ‘Yes. I would not do so if I did not have to, you do understand?’
