The Sheen of the Silk

Sixty-three

SHE PRESENTED THE LETTER THAT NICEPHORAS HAD GIVEN her and asked to see Justinian alone. The letter suggested, without directly saying so, that she was on the emperor’s business, and the monk did not question it. Nicephoras had been careful to word it ambiguously.

She was conducted into a small, irregular-shaped courtyard, and the monk leading her stopped. “Take your shoes off,” he whispered. “The place where you stand is holy ground.”

Anna bent to obey and suddenly found tears in her eyes. She looked up, boots in her hand, and saw in the lantern light a huge spread of leaves where a bush mounded higher than her head and seemed to pour over the stones. A wild thought came into her head. Was this Moses’s bush, which had once burned with the voice of God? She turned to the monk.

He nodded slowly, smiling.

“You may have a short time until the next call to prayer,” he said gently, but the warning was implicit in his voice. She should not forget that Justinian was a prisoner here and she was being granted a privilege in speaking alone with him.

She was left to wait in an airless stone cell barely large enough to pace back and forth more than a few steps. When she heard the door swing on its heavy hinges, she whirled around.

For the first instant, he looked as he always had: his eyes, his mouth, the way his hair grew from his brow. Her heart lurched, and she could hardly breathe. The years vanished, and all that had happened between ceased to be real.

He was staring at her, confused, blinking. There was a first stumbling of hope in his face and then fear.

The monk behind him was waiting.

She must explain quickly, before either of them betrayed themselves. “I am a physician,” she said clearly. “My name is Anastasius Zarides. The emperor Michael Palaeologus has given me permission to speak with you, if you will permit me to.”

Even though she had pitched her voice with the throaty quality of a eunuch, he recognized it instantly. Joy flared up in his eyes, but he stood perfectly still, his back to the monk still standing behind him. When he answered, his voice trembled a little.

“I will be happy to speak with you… as the emperor wishes.” He half turned to the monk behind him. “Thank you, Brother Thomas.”

Brother Thomas inclined his head and withdrew.

“Anna! What in the name of-” Justinian started.

She cut him off by stepping forward and putting her arms around him. He responded, holding her so tightly that she felt bruised, although the pain was welcome.

“We have only a few minutes.” His body was hard, far thinner than last time they had seen each other, so many years ago. He looked older, almost gaunt. The lines in his face were deeper, and there were hollows around his eyes.

“You look like a eunuch,” he replied, still holding on to her. “What on earth are you doing? For God’s sake, be careful! If the monks find out, they’ll…”

She pulled away a little and looked up at him. “I’m good at it,” she said ruefully. “I didn’t dress like this to get in here. Although I would have! I’m like this all the time…”

He was incredulous. “Why? You’re beautiful. And you can practice medicine as a woman!”

“It’s for a different reason.” She also could not bear to tell him that she was unmarriageable, and why. That was a burden he did not need. “I have a good practice,” she went on quickly. “Often at the Blachernae Palace, for the eunuchs there, and sometimes for the emperor himself.”

“Anna!” he cut across her. “Don’t! No practice is worth the risk you’re taking.”

“I’m not doing it for the practice,” she said. “I’m doing it to find out enough to prove why you killed Bessarion Comnenos. It’s taken me so long because at first I didn’t even know why anyone would, but now I know.”

“No, you don’t,” he contradicted her. His voice dropped, suddenly gentle. “You can’t help, Anna. Please don’t become involved. You have no idea how dangerous it is. You don’t know Zoe Chrysaphes…”

“Yes, I do. I’m her physician.” She looked straight into his eyes. “I think she poisoned both Cosmas Kantakouzenos and Arsenios Vatatzes. I’m certain she killed Gregory Vatatzes face-to-face, with a dagger, and tried to have the Venetian ambassador arrested for it.”

He stared at her. “Tried to?”

“I prevented it.” She felt the heat burn in her face. “You don’t need to know now. But yes, I know Zoe. And Helena. And Eirene, and Demetrios,” she went on hastily. “And Bishop Constantine, of course.”

He smiled at Constantine’s name. “How is he? I get so little news here. Is he well?”

“Are you asking me as his physician?” It sounded lighthearted, but she said it because she suddenly realized that he had not seen the darker, weaker side of Constantine, the way he had changed under the desperate pressure of the union, of failure, the burden of leading so much of the resistance almost alone.

His eyebrows shot up. “You’re his physician, too?”

“Why not?” She bit her lip. “To him I’m a eunuch. Isn’t that appropriate?”

He paled. “Anna, you can’t get away with this. For God’s sake, go home. Have you any idea the risks you’re taking? You can’t prove anything. I…”

“I can prove why you killed Bessarion,” she replied. “And that you had no other choice. You were foiling a plot to usurp Michael, the only way possible. The emperor should thank you, reward you!”

He touched her face so gently she felt little more than the warmth of his hand. “Anna, it was a plot to usurp Michael, in order to save the Church from Rome. It was only when I finally realized that Bessarion had not the fire or the guts to succeed that I changed course. Michael knows that.

“I killed Bessarion,” he said in little more than a whisper. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I still have nightmares about it. But if he had usurped the throne, it would have been a disaster for Byzantium. I was a fool for it to take me so long to see that. I didn’t want to, and then it was too late. But I’m here because I wouldn’t tell Michael the names of the rest of the conspirators. I… I couldn’t. They were no more guilty than I-perhaps less. They still believed it was the right thing to do for the city-and the faith.”

She dropped her head and leaned against him. “I know that. I know who they are, and I couldn’t tell him either. But there must be something I can do!”

“There isn’t,” he said softly. “Leave it be, Anna. Constantine will do what he can. He already saved my life. He’ll plead for me with the emperor, if there’s a chance.”

There was no one else except her to fight for Justinian. And she had more chance of the emperor’s ear than Constantine now.

“Who betrayed you to the authorities?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “And it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you can do about it, even if you were certain. What do you want, vengeance?”

She looked at him, searching. “I don’t want revenge,” she admitted. “At least only when I’m not really thinking. Then I’d like to see them pay…”

“Leave it. Please,” he begged. “In the end, it isn’t worth anything.”

“It isn’t failure, not if Byzantium survives. And Michael will win that, if anyone can.”

“At the cost of the Church?” he asked with disbelief. “Go home, Anna,” he whispered. “Please. Be safe. I want to think of you healing people, living to be old and wise, and knowing that you did it well.”

The tears blinded her. He had paid so much to give her that chance. And she had made him a promise she knew she could not keep.

“You won’t, will you?” he said, touching the tears on her cheek.

“I can’t. I don’t know that they aren’t still planning to kill Michael. Demetrios is a Vatatzes, and a Doukas through Eirene. He could try for the throne. If Michael were dead, and Andronicus, he might have a chance, especially with crusaders at the gates.”

He gripped her harder, his hands tight on her shoulders. “I know that! I think he might have taken over once Bessarion had got rid of Michael for him anyway.”

“And you,” she added. “You’re a Lascaris!”

The key sounded in the lock.

Justinian pushed her away.

She wiped her hand across her cheek to get rid of the tears and forced herself to steady her voice.

“Thank you, Brother Justinian. I shall carry your message back to Constantinople.” She made the sign of the cross in the Orthodox fashion, smiled at him once, briefly. Then she followed the monk out into the corridor, feeling her way rather than seeing it.