Bound to the Barbarian. Carol Townend

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ