Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [101]
It was the middle of the afternoon, and Simonis woke Anna from a briefly snatched rest. She was exhausted from treating the mutilated and dying, and her first instinct when Simonis told her Helena had sent for her was to refuse. How could she ever keep patience with a little irritation to the skin when men were being tortured to death?
“Bessarion’s widow,” Simonis said sharply, looking at Anna’s face. “I know you’re tired.” Her voice softened, but there was still urgency in it and an edge of fear. “You haven’t slept properly for weeks. But you can’t afford to refuse Helena Comnena. She knew Justinian.” She said his name gently. “And his friends.” She did not add any more, but it hung in the air between them.
Helena received Anna in a newly painted, lush room next to her bedchamber. The murals had been redesigned, far closer to the erotic than Bessarion would have allowed. Anna hid her smile.
Helena was dressed in a loose tunic. She had an ugly rash on her arms. At first, she was frightened and polite. Then, as the herbs and advice began to take effect, she was no longer so concerned and her natural arrogance reasserted itself.
“It still hurts,” Helena said sharply, pulling her arm away.
“It will hurt for a little while longer,” Anna told her. “You must keep the ointment on it, and take the herbs at least twice a day.”
“They’re disgusting!” Helena responded, curling her lip. “Haven’t you got anything that doesn’t taste as if you’re trying to poison me?”
“If I were trying to poison you, I would make it sweet,” Anna replied with a slight smile.
Helena paled. Anna saw it and her interest sharpened. Why had Helena mentioned poison so easily? She looked away and allowed the silk of Helena’s robes to fall back into a more modest position.
“Do you really have any idea what you’re doing?” Helena snapped.
Anna decided on the risk. “If you are worried, I know other physicians who might suit you. And I am sure Zoe would know even more.”
Helena’s eyes were bright and hard, her cheeks flushed. She swallowed as if there were something rank in her throat. “I’m sorry. I spoke in haste. Your skill is quite sufficient. I am unused to pain.”
Anna kept her eyes lowered in case Helena saw in them the contempt she felt. “You are right to be apprehensive. Such things, if not treated quickly, can become serious.”
Helena drew in her breath with a little hiss. “Really? How quickly?”
“As you have done.” Anna had exaggerated the danger. “I have another herb here which will help, but if you wish, I will stay with you, so that if it should have any ill effects in other ways, I can give you the antidote.” That was an invention, but it would take time even to broach the subjects she wished to explore.
Helena gulped. “What sort of effects? Will it make me ill?”
“Faint,” Anna replied, thinking of something not too distressing. “Perhaps a little hot. But it will pass quickly, if I give you the herb which counteracts it. You mustn’t take it if it isn’t needed. I’ll stay with you.”
“And charge extra, no doubt!” Helena snapped.
“For the herb, not for the time.”
Helena considered for several seconds, then accepted. Anna mixed a number of herbs for her and had them steeped in hot water. It would be relaxing, good for the digestion. She soothed her conscience by telling herself she had kept her oath: If she was doing no good, at least she was doing no harm.
Helena saw Anna’s eyes on the murals. “Do you like them?” she asked.
Anna drew in her breath. “I’ve seen nothing like them before.”
“Nor in the flesh, I suppose,” Helena observed with a sneer.
Anna longed to say that she had tended patients in a brothel once and seen something of the sort, but she could not afford to. “No,” she said, clenching her teeth.
Helena laughed.
The servant returned with the steeped herbs in a glass.
Helena sipped it. “It’s sour,” she remarked. She looked at Anna over the top of the glass.
Anna could not afford to delay any longer. “You should look