Betrothed To The Barbarian

Theodora nodded—that had occurred to her. It had also occurred to her that with any luck the Duke might remain in Larissa for some time and her meeting with him would be delayed. A reprieve of any sort would be most welcome.

Sophia looked at Martina. ‘I pray he lets you keep her.’

‘I shall make sure of it.’ Theodora spoke confidently, even though she was convincing herself as much as Sophia. In truth, she had no idea how her fiancé would react to news that Princess Theodora Doukaina had a baby in her entourage. Duke Nikolaos was a noted general in the Imperial army, a man surely more given to command than to being persuaded. What might he say? What might he do?

She dreaded the moment of their meeting. She wished she could avoid the marriage.

Sophia looked up at her, eyes large with concern. ‘Will you marry him, despoina? Will you be able to after Župan Peter …?’

Theodora’s gaze misted. Swiftly she looked away and was vaguely aware of Sophia’s hand fluttering apologetically in her direction.

‘Theo—my lady, my apologies. I have hurt you by mentioning him.’

Theodora swallowed down the thickness in her throat. ‘Prince Peter is never out of my mind.’

‘Of course not.’ Sophia bent over Župan Peter’s child. ‘Are you ready to marry Duke Nikolaos?’

Blinking rapidly, Theodora lifted her head. A strand of brown hair uncoiled and fell across her breast, briskly she tucked it back in place. ‘I am as ready as I shall ever be.’ Her voice became a thread of sound. ‘No one can replace Peter. But, despite my many failings, I remain a princess of the Imperial House. If the Emperor insists that I marry Duke Nikolaos of Larissa, I shall obey him.’

Lady Sophia nodded and adjusted Martina’s shawl. ‘Of course. I am glad we have thought of a way you may keep this little one.’

Theodora sent Sophia a watery smile. ‘I have you to thank for that. We are simply embroidering your story.’

‘Yes, my lady. I am pleased to have been helpful, but …’

‘Yes?’

‘I want you to be happy. Can you be happy with Duke Nikolaos?’

‘I shall strive to be,’ Theodora said, firmly. ‘I am the Princess Theodora and it is my duty to cater to my husband’s happiness. My happiness will depend on his.’

Sophia opened her mouth to reply, but brisk footsteps sounded outside the lodge.

‘Hush, that will be Captain Brand.’ Deftly, Theodora dragged her shawl over her brown, simply dressed hair, arranging it so most of her features were concealed. ‘We have come this far without him realising that I am the Princess—we must not fall at the last hurdle.’ When she was satisfied that all Captain Brand would see was a pair of dark eyes, she nodded at Sophia to admit him. Not wishing to draw attention to herself, Theodora tried to speak to him as little as possible.

‘Come in,’ Lady Sophia called.

The latch clicked and Captain Brand stepped on to the threshold. Theodora nodded distantly at him. He was Anglo-Saxon, as were many men in the Varangian Guard. Because of his origins, to those born within the Empire, the Captain was as much a foreigner as Peter had been. A barbarian, an outsider. Pain twisted Theodora’s insides, a sudden cramp. She recognised the pain for what it was, an impossible longing for Peter to be brought back to life, for her life to have continued in Rascia.

Peter, why did you have to die?

She kept her features clear of emotion. She had been trained.

As had Captain Brand. Even though the man had been born in England, far beyond the reach of the Empire, he had a firm grasp of Palace protocols. In the Imperial Palace, men and women lived almost separate lives unless they were married. The unmarried women’s quarters were in one section of the Palace, the men’s in another. And Captain Brand, God bless him, had displayed his understanding of the protocols during the voyage from Dyrrachion. He had spoken to Theodora and her ladies only when absolutely necessary, and then never when one of the ladies had been on her own.

It was all so different from the friendly informality of the Rascian Court. And doubtless, when they finally reached the Imperial Palace, everything would become even more formal. Theodora’s days of freedom were over.

‘So, Captain …’ Sophia smiled politely at him ‘… have you discovered what was happening the night our galley reached the City?’

‘Yes, my lady.’ The Captain remained on the threshold. He was carrying his helmet and his hair was rain-dampened. He looked over his shoulder. ‘It is a … delicate matter.’

‘Come in, do,’ Theodora said, her hunger for news temporarily overcoming her resolution to play the part of a quiet, shy lady. ‘We are not back at Court yet.’

The Captain’s eyes widened, nevertheless, he did as he was asked, closing the door behind him.

Sweet Mary, the news must be grave indeed. And I was too forthright. I must take care not to betray myself. It was a struggle constantly having to pretend, particularly when she was impatient to learn what had been going on in Constantinople. I must keep Martina. Somehow I will find a way to keep Martina.

‘Ladies, as you know, I sent scouts back to the City after we arrived here.’

Captain Brand’s accent betrayed his foreign, barbaric birth, yet he was perfectly comprehensible. In any case, Theodora had had much practice in understanding barbarians.

‘The lighthouse, yes, of course,’ Sophia said, correctly interpreting Theodora’s subtle nod as meaning that she should take over and speak for her. ‘And the fires, the smoke drifting across the water—you thought we were in danger.’

Captain Brand nodded. ‘I was afraid there may have been some …’ he was picking his words with care ‘… unrest in the City.’

Theodora cut in, despite herself. ‘Captain, the Palace has its own walls, its own fortifications. Surely unrest in the City would not penetrate the Palace?’

‘I did not wish to take the risk, my lady. Not with Princess Theodora’s entourage. As it turns out, my instincts were right.’ His voice became confidential. ‘Ladies, my scouts tell me that, while we were at sea, there has been a palace coup.’

Theodora’s breath left her. Indeed, she was so startled she loosed her grip on her shawl and it fell away from her face. Irritably, she retrieved it. Until she was once again the Princess Theodora Doukaina, she must keep hidden. ‘A revolution?’

‘Yes, my lady. One of the generals has seized the throne.’

Theodora exchanged stunned glances with Sophia. Has the Emperor been murdered? It had happened before. Theodora’s mind began to race and her next thought was, shamingly, that perhaps the tide had turned in her favour. If the man who called himself her uncle was no longer Emperor, she might not have to marry Duke Nikolaos.

My secret will be safe, Martina will be safe. Finally, she found her voice. ‘One of the generals? Which one?’ It could not be Duke Nikolaos. It must not be the Duke. If it is the Duke …

Her mind seized up. It was bad enough to consider deceiving a general, but the thought of deceiving an Emperor …

‘Alexios Komnenos is now Emperor,’ the Captain said.

Not Duke Nikolaos. Thank God. ‘And what of my unc—?’

A sharp kick from Sophia had Theodora’s mouth snapping shut just in time. As she herself had said, they had made it thus far without mishap, it wouldn’t do to fall at the last hurdle. ‘What of Emperor Nikephoros? What has happened to him?’

‘He abdicated, my lady, about two weeks ago.’

The Emperor had abdicated.

‘Two weeks ago,’ she murmured. ‘That would have been about the time we sailed past the Palace.’

‘Yes, my lady. His Imperial Majesty Alexios Komnenos was enthroned on Easter Day. Both he and his wife—Empress Irene—have been crowned.’

Theodora struggled to control her expression, but this news had turned her world upside down.

Sophia gave her a subtle nudge and smiled sweetly at the Captain. ‘Empress Irene is a cousin of our princess, is she not?’

‘Yes, my lady, so I understand.’

Theodora shifted. This would take time to absorb, her young cousin was wearing the Imperial crown. ‘Captain, do you know if Emperor Nikephoros has come to harm?’

‘He is safe, we were informed he has retired from public life. I believe it was at the instigation of the Patriarch.’

Theodora nodded. That made sense, the Patriarch was Bishop of Constantinople, one of the most influential men in the City. That the Patriarch had suggested Emperor Nikephoros should abdicate bore testimony to the weakness of her ‘uncle’s’ regime, he had never been popular. She sighed, not much about Emperor Nikephoros had filtered back to Rascia. He was old, that much she did know.

Theodora had no genuine blood ties with Emperor Nikephoros. The man had seized the throne from her real uncle, Emperor Michael, forcing him to abdicate and retire to a monastery. He had then legitimised his claim to the throne by marrying Emperor Michael’s wife.

‘How ironic that Emperor Nikephoros should himself be forced to abdicate,’ Sophia observed.

Theodora’s thoughts raced on, the coup changed everything. It might invalidate her betrothal to Duke Nikolaos … The old Emperor had pushed for the marriage, but if he were gone …

Can I escape the marriage? Theodora looked longingly at the infant on Sophia’s lap. If I escape marriage with Duke Nikolaos, it will surely be easier to keep Martina.

‘General Alexios Komnenos has become Emperor,’ she murmured.

She might have to revise her plans. Alexios Komnenos was nothing like his aged predecessor. Theodora had a chance of hiding what she had done from the old Emperor. But the new one? Alexios Komnenos was young and vigorous, he was reputed to be highly intelligent. Holy Mother, the last thing she needed was a young, vigorous and intelligent emperor! It would be hard, if not impossible, to pull the wool over his eyes. And extremely dangerous if she were found out …

‘Yes, my lady,’ Captain Brand said. ‘Komnenos had the backing of the generals. The army was camped outside the City walls for weeks.’

‘The army?’ Theodora went very still. She had gone sharply, horribly cold. ‘I don’t suppose you know if Duke—General—Nikolaos of Larissa was with them?’

The Varangian Captain reached for the door latch. ‘Yes, my lady, I believe he returned from Larissa shortly before the coup. Duke Nikolaos is loyal to Emperor Alexios. He is his Commander-in-Chief.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘The Emperor?’

‘No, Duke Nikolaos, the Commander-in-Chief.’ Theodora watched Captain Brand’s eyebrows lift, her question had surprised him, as well it might. She rushed to explain. ‘I … I was wondering if you had heard whether … whether the Princess and the Duke have had a chance to meet?’

‘My lady, I have no idea. But if you would care to warn the other ladies about what has happened at Court, I would be grateful.’

‘Certainly, Captain,’ Sophia said. ‘Thank you for keeping us informed.’

The Captain bowed. ‘Lady Sophia, please ask the ladies to gather their belongings together. We shall board within the hour. It is only a short sail down the Bosphoros. The galley should reach the Palace Harbour early this evening.’

‘Thank you, Captain, I shall inform the others.’

When the door clicked behind the captain, Theodora sank on to the bench. ‘Holy Mother—he’s in the City! Duke Nikolaos is already in the City.’

Sophia nodded. ‘Yes, my lady.’

Martina gave a small murmur. Theodora’s throat tightened, somehow she straightened her spine. ‘I can put this off no longer, there must be no more delays. We must get to the Palace, and quickly. I can’t expect Katerina to meet the Duke in my stead.’

Chapter Two

Duke Nikolaos of Larissa, dark hair whipped by the wind, was riding like a demon into the mêlée on the Palace polo field when he realised his manservant Elias had returned and was waiting for him by the sea wall. Reining in sharply, Nikolaos wheeled Hermes about and spurred away from the action.

‘Devil take you, Niko! What are you playing at?’ a team-mate cried, with scant regard for formality, as the ball hurtled across the turf. Duke Nikolaos was General of the Athanatoi Cavalry and Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army, but he had made it clear that in this practice session, he was playing with friends. He was not on his warhorse today. Hermes was small and light-boned. Hermes was built for speed.

‘Niko.’ Another player leaned out of the saddle and took a wild swipe at the ball flying beneath his horse’s hooves. Missing the ball, the man righted himself with difficulty.

‘Damn you, Niko,’ he bawled, as his general trotted from the field.

Nikolaos swung his mallet over one shoulder and grinned. ‘A thousand apologies, I have business to attend to. In any case, I fear the girth is going on this saddle.’

A chorus of shouts and groans went up. ‘We’re a man short.’

‘Curse it, Niko, you can’t retreat mid-game.’

‘Keep practising,’ Niko said. ‘There’s less than a month before the tournament—the tournament, I remind you, that the Athanatoi shall win.’ He gestured at a lad standing with the reserve horses on the edge of the field. ‘Zeno?’

‘General?’

‘Take my place, will you?’

The boy’s eyes lit up and he vaulted on to the back of one of the horses. ‘Gladly. Thank you, my lord.’

‘It’s your first time in the field, isn’t it, Zeno?’

‘Yes, General.’

‘It looks like a game and so it is. But one word of warning, it’s a ruthless one. Take no prisoners. Those miscreants …’ with a grin, Nikolaos jerked his head at the men he had assigned to the opposite team ‘… will show you no mercy. Remember that, and there’s a chance you will keep your seat.’

‘Yes, General.’

Nikolaos swung from the saddle, tossing the reins to Elias. His stallion’s brown coat was flecked with foam. ‘You delivered my message?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

Elias looked troubled. One of the reasons Nikolaos had kept Elias as his manservant for so long was that he never dissembled or lied to him. And that, as Nikolaos had learned, was a rare and precious quality. ‘Don’t tell me, the Princess is still ailing?’

‘Apparently so, my lord.’

A cypress at the edge of the polo ground was swaying slightly in the onshore breeze. Nikolaos scowled at it. ‘That’s twice I’ve sent messages to her apartment. I take it you saw no sign of her this time either?’

It had occurred to Nikolaos that Princess Theodora might be hiding from him, but that would seem absurd. She was an Imperial princess and the former Emperor, the man who had married her aunt, had approved their marriage.

She could not have taken a dislike to me, since we have never met.

Elias was shaking his head. ‘Not as much as a glimpse, my lord. All I saw was a handful of maidservants and a guard assigned to her apartment. Other than that her chambers were quiet.’

Nikolaos tapped his thigh with his mallet. ‘You left my message with the guard, I take it?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘What regiment was he?’

‘Varangian.’

Nikolaos grunted. ‘Should be reliable. Did you get the man’s name and rank?’

‘Kari. A trooper.’

‘Very well. My patience is wearing thin, but I shall give the Princess till this afternoon to respond. And then, if she continues to ignore my existence, I will have to speak to His Imperial Majesty. Our betrothal was made at the behest of his predecessor. Perhaps Emperor Alexios has decided he has other plans for her.’

Removing his gloves, Nikolaos tucked them thoughtfully into his belt. He could not decide whether Princess Theodora’s illness was genuine or whether it was an excuse designed to keep him at a distance. Nikolaos wanted this marriage. He had seen other men’s careers blighted by innuendo and rumour and he was determined that was not going to happen to him. Marriage with an Imperial princess was a great honour, it would bolster his position at Court. Was it possible that Emperor Alexios had changed his mind?

Turning his back on the polo field and the turreted wall that protected the Great Palace from both sea and invasion, Nikolaos began walking towards the stables. Elias and Hermes kept pace. ‘It is odd, though,’ Nikolaos said, raking a hand through windswept brown hair, ‘you would think that His Majesty would have mentioned any concerns he has over my marriage arrangements when I was asked to organise the polo tournament.’

‘Didn’t he confirm that your marriage was to go ahead shortly after he was crowned?’

‘He did, he did indeed. Why, then, is the Princess so elusive?’

‘I do not know, my lord. Perhaps she really is unwell.’

‘Or a reluctant bride,’ Nikolaos said. ‘Think about it. First, she refused to return to Constantinople when the old emperor summoned her from Rascia, and when she does return, she hides away like a nun.’

‘You should give her the benefit of the doubt—she could really be unwell, my lord.’

Nikolaos gave Elias a straight look; he and his manservant had been together since Nikolaos was a boy and there was a strong bond of affection between them. Nikolaos could discuss anything with him. Nikolaos’s gut tightened—well, almost anything. ‘I have been giving her the benefit of the doubt for some days,’ he said, drily. ‘It occurs to me that Princess Theodora has no wish to marry.’

‘You cannot assume that, my lord.’

‘True. I am ready for this wedding to take place, Elias, but if my bride is reluctant?’ Nikolaos grimaced. ‘Lord, no.’

Nikolaos wanted this marriage. It would signal to the world that he was firmly ensconced with the new regime. And he wanted it soon, before anyone else got wind of his mother’s unexpected confession.

I am illegitimate.

The man Nikolaos had always thought of as his father was the late Governor of Larissa, Governor Gregorios. But according to his mother, Lady Verina, Gregorios was not his father. Nikolaos had received his mother’s confession as something of a body blow; her marriage to Gregorios of Larissa had seemed blissfully happy. They had been the perfect, loving couple with Governor Gregorios idolising his wife. And Nikolaos would have sworn the affection had not been one-sided, his mother had given every appearance of adoring her husband in return. The intense grief she had displayed at his death could not have been mere pretence. And yet …

I am illegitimate. I have no blood ties with Governor Gregorios.

Dear God, better men than he had their careers wrecked because of their birth. That would not happen to him.

‘Will you ask His Majesty for another bride, my lord?’

‘I may have to, if Princess Theodora continues to show reluctance.’ Nikolaos sighed and ran his hand round the back of the neck. In view of his mother’s confession, he needed this marriage more than ever, but … a reluctant bride? No.

‘Your mother will be disappointed. She was delighted when you were chosen for the Princess.’

Nikolaos felt his face stiffen, it was hard to keep the anger from his voice. ‘Naturally my mother would be pleased. Such a marriage would appease her conscience, if she has one.’

Elias frowned. ‘You have had a disagreement with Lady Verina?’

Nikolaos let out a bitter laugh. ‘You might put it like that.’

‘My lord, I thought—’

Nikolaos silenced Elias with a look. ‘Yes, old friend, you are right. My mother was delighted. I never thought we’d hear the end of it. But I will not marry a reluctant bride, however highborn.’

‘Duke Nikolaos?’

‘Mmm?’

‘If the Princess continues hiding away, will you ask Emperor Alexios to release her from the betrothal?’

Hermes clattered across the paving stones as they passed through a fountained courtyard. Water jetted from the mouths of a shoal of bronze fish; rainbows shimmered in the spray. ‘I am undecided. It was the previous Emperor who gifted her to me. If Princess Theodora really does prove reluctant, it should be easy enough to persuade His Majesty to give me another bride.’ He smiled at Elias. ‘I shall give the Princess until this afternoon to respond. Come, let’s get to the stables, Hermes needs a rubdown and that girth needs checking.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

That afternoon, Elias carried a third message to Princess Theodora’s apartment in the Boukoleon Palace. When he came away, he knew exactly where to find his master. Duke Nikolaos had told him he would be in one of the saddlers’ workshops outside the Palace walls.

The saddlers’ workshops were clustered together in a narrow street that cut away from the Mese—Middle Street—the main street of the City. Sure enough, Hercules, the Duke’s black warhorse, was tethered outside, next to an animal usually assigned to one of the grooms. Entering the workshop, Elias nodded at the groom and leaned against a wall to wait for the Duke to conclude his business.

‘But, General—’ the saddler’s voice was high and tight, his fingers shook as he examined the girth ‘—it is not as though you take this saddle into battle.’

Nikolaos shook his head. ‘You should not underestimate the rigours of the polo field, it’s an important part of training for my officers. Use stronger leather next time. Look—’ he pulled at the offending strap ‘—see here?’

‘That’s a natural flaw, General, part of the animal’s skin. You can’t avoid natural flaws.’

‘Nonsense! Even an untrained eye could see that this section of leather is weak. It should have been discarded. It has no place in a saddle of this quality—of any quality, come to think of it. Serious injuries can be caused by workmanship like this. If it happens again, I shall take my custom elsewhere. And I shall certainly ensure that the officers in my regiment know to avoid your merchandise. That said, I am sure you’ll put it right …’

‘Yes, General.’ The saddler flushed dark red. ‘My apologies, it shall not happen again.’

Nodding at the man, Nikolaos stepped back into the street and smiled at Elias. ‘Well? I can tell from your face that you had no luck at the Princess’s apartment.’

‘No, my lord. This afternoon she is apparently a little recovered, but there is no message for you.’

Nikolaos tucked his thumbs into his belt. ‘Does the total lack of response strike you as odd, Elias?’ The Princess might be reluctant, but surely she would have to be gravely ill to ignore so many messages from the man to whom she had been betrothed?

‘My lord?’

The skin was prickling at the back of Nikolaos’s neck. It was the sort of prickling he usually had on the eve of battle. His instincts were trying to warn him … of what? Danger. Danger to him? No, he did not sense that the danger was to him. To the Princess? That did not seem possible, yet his instincts had not let him down before.

He looked at the groom. ‘My thanks, Paul, that is all. I shall walk back. Take Hercules back to his stall, would you? Elias, you are with me.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Something’s wrong,’ Nikolaos murmured, once the groom had taken the horses and was well out of earshot. He followed the route the groom had taken, turning into the street that led past the Hippodrome, back to the Palace.

‘I agree,’ Elias said. ‘It seems extraordinary that after sending several messages, you have received no response from Princess Theodora.’

The walls of the Palace loomed over them. ‘The former Emperor appeared keen, even eager, to promote my marriage to Princess Theodora,’ Nikolaos murmured, thinking aloud.

Elias, probably realising that this remark did not require a response, said nothing.

Nikolaos let his thoughts run on, thoughts which he was well aware a few weeks ago would have bordered on treasonous. He had not held the previous Emperor in high regard. Emperor Nikephoros had been weak and ineffective—unscrupulous courtiers had wasted no time in manipulating him. With little strength of will, and almost no understanding of military matters, the man had made a disastrous head of state. Which was why Nikolaos had supported Alexios Komnenos in his bid for the throne. The Empire needed a strong hand at the reins.