Betrothed to the Barbarian. Carol Townend
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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