A Triple-headed Serpent. Marié Heese

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СКАЧАТЬ If the soul is pure and virtuous, then it cannot be lost, even if the body is violated. His understanding, when she had expected judgement and rejection, had been the most precious gift she could ever have desired. Nonetheless, she could never feel entirely at ease.

      “Yes, he does. But try though I may, I cannot finally put that life behind me. I still feel, sometimes, like an impostor. As if at any minute all this …” she gestured around her, “… may disappear. May be taken away from me.”

      “The throne is stable now,” said Narses.

      “But there will always be those who plot and scheme,” she said. “And find ways to frighten and humiliate me. Like this … this episode, sending a supposed son.”

      “I understand how painful it must be,” said Narses.

      “People might believe this,” she said. “If it became known. It is a cruelly brilliant idea. I wonder who put the boy up to it. For sure he did not think of it himself. Who has a mind capable of this?”

      “Perhaps the name is an indication,” suggested Narses. “John.”

      “John? Ah, you mean the Cappadocian?”

      “It has his signature,” said Narses. “I suspect, also, that he is behind an increase in damaging tales about your past, Despoina.”

      She nodded thoughtfully. “Very likely.” She thought, it is as the sibyl said, he is waging war by underhand and devious means. “Well, send the youth away. I will not speak to him. I cannot bear to look at him. But Narses …”

      “Yes, Despoina?”

      “Make it clear to him that if he ever shows his face in this city again, he will lose his life.”

      “Yes, Despoina. I guarantee he will not trouble you again.”

      “So,” said Justinian, “the work on the Church of the Holy Apostles goes well?”

      “Remarkably so,” said Theodora. “Anthemius has created a design of great beauty. I’m enjoying this project.”

      “And the company of your handsome young steward,” said Justinian. “Which is plain for all to see.”

      She looked at him in puzzlement. His face was set in dour and disapproving lines. It was not an expression that he had ever turned on her.

      “Areobindus? What do you mean?”

      “There is … talk,” he said.

      “People always gossip about me. I find it best just to ignore them.”

      “You should dismiss him.”

      “But Justinian, I can’t do that! He’s so helpful and efficient! Truly, one can’t let malicious rumours rule one’s life.”

      “So you can’t do without him?”

      “I don’t see why I should.”

      Justinian’s mouth turned into an angry fold, like that of a miser robbed of a solidus. Usually his displeasure, seldom directed at his beloved wife, would melt away in the satisfactions of work and her loving attentions. But this time his anger remained obdurate. He did not seek her company for lunch each day. He did not confer with her about state matters requiring decisions. He did not meet her in the rooms they were accustomed to share three nights a week, but kept to his suite in the Sacred Palace, sleeping alone in the Sacred Cubicle, and leaving her to lie awake and terrified in the Daphne Palace where her household was ensconced.

      This rejection reminded her of the coldness Hecebolus had shown in Apollonia when he had tired of her. She remembered how hard she had tried to recapture his love, how she had used all her wiles to seduce him once again, and with what fury he had turned on her when the ship brought gossip from Constantinople, descriptions of her “insatiable lasciviousness”.

      She lay alone in the dark in her plush bed with its gilded posters and silken drapes, its embroidered sheets and plump down-filled pillows, and she trembled. Could she lose the love of Justinian? The prospect filled her whole being with desolation. When Hecebolus rejected her, she had already seen the selfishness, corruption and cruelty that lurked behind his mask of urbane charm. Her fear then had been the loss of prestige and security. Now, divorce would bring about a far greater fall, for she could be stripped of her title and cast into the streets, once more destitute and despised. And yet the tears that slid over her face were not shed because she feared the loss of power. She wept in terror of the loss of love.

      Who had brought this gossip to his ears? Had young Areobindus been bragging about her supposed favours? She suspected the Cappadocian of inventing the lie, but she had no proof. The thought of the wretched man finally dried her tears and pricked her courage. In the dark night she gathered her resolve. She refused to let him destroy her marriage. She would consult Narses, first thing in the morning. He would know what she should do.

      “My husband is so terribly angry with me,” Theodora said. “You must help me. I didn’t realise this matter was serious. Somebody must have filled the Emperor’s ears with poison.”

      “Cappadocian John,” suggested Narses.

      “Probably. No proof, though. I’ll just dismiss the boy, he’s not irreplaceable. But … but … how do I convince the Emperor that there never was anything between us, that he was merely a very useful servant? He won’t believe me now! Oh, Narses! What can I do?”

      “Have the fellow flogged,” said Narses. “And then send him away.”

      “Flogged?”

      “Yes. That should clearly demonstrate that you have no special feelings for him.”

      “But … flogged! That seems so drastic …”

      “Do you have special feelings for him, Despoina?”

      “No! I just found him to be very useful!”

      “Then have him flogged.”

      “Then … then … see to it. And remove him from court.”

      “I’ll certainly see to that,” said Narses.

      Theodora sat staring desperately, like a child suddenly bereft of a parent’s love. “Will he … will the Emperor … come round, then? Do you think?”

      “He loves you dearly, Despoina. Had he not, this would not have angered him so much.”

      She nodded forlornly.

      “You should show no distress,” advised Narses. “Make it clear that the fellow had no particular importance to you.”

      “Yes, yes, of course, that’s what I must do. But Narses – do you think Cappadocian John was responsible for this?”

      “It smells of him,” said Narses. “He has lately returned to the city after travelling through the provinces.”

      “I detest that man,” said Theodora. “But I can’t persuade Justinian to get rid of him.”

      “Well, he’ll СКАЧАТЬ