Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [110]
If Zoe were indispensable to him in any part of foiling Charles of Anjou, then he would protect her from the devil himself, let alone some mere question of the law.
Even as she stood in the sun, the sounds of the street echoing below her, the far light gleaming on the sea, she began to see how she would do it.
It took over two weeks for Scalini, the Sicilian, to visit her, alone and at night, as she had insisted. He was a weasel of a man, but clever and not without a sense of humor, and that quality alone redeemed him in her eyes.
“I have a job for you, Scalini,” she told him as soon as he sat in the chair opposite her and she had poured wine. It was long after midnight, and she had only one torch lit.
“Of course.” He nodded and reached for the glass. He put it to his long, sharp nose and sniffed. “Ascalon wine, with honey and something else?”
“Wild camomile seeds,” she told him.
He smiled. “Where is the job? Sicily, Naples … Rome?”
“Wherever the king of the Two Sicilies might be,” she replied. “As long as he is not here. By then it would be too late.”
He grinned. His teeth were sharp and white, well cared for. “He will not be here yet,” he said with relish, licking his lips as if tasting something sweet. “The pope has forgiven the emperor of Byzantium. When he heard this piece of news, His Majesty of the Two Sicilies was so beside himself with rage that he snatched up his own scepter and bit off the top of it!”
Zoe laughed until the tears were wet on her face. Scalini joined in, and they finished the wine. She opened a new bottle, and they finished that as well.
It was coming toward three in the morning when at last she leaned forward, her face suddenly grave. “Scalini, for reasons which are not your concern, I need to have something of great worth to offer the emperor. A year from now may be sufficient, but I need to be certain of it.”
He pursed his lips. “The only thing Michael Palaeologus wants is his throne secure and Constantinople safe. He’ll trade anything else on earth for the city’s security—even the Church.”
“And who threatens him?” she whispered.
“Charles of Anjou. The world knows that.”
“I want to know everything I can about him. Everything! Do you understand me, Scalini?”
His small brown eyes searched her face, studying inch by inch. “Yes, I understand.”
Thirty-five
IT WAS BEGINNING TO DISTURB ZOE THAT SHE DID NOT know for certain who had betrayed Justinian to the authorities. She had assumed it was some clumsiness that had caused Antoninus to be caught, and he had been tortured, which was a common practice.
But on reflection, she doubted that even under torture Antoninus, an unquestionably brave man and a soldier of excellent record, would betray any friend, let alone one who was as close as Justinian had been. Now she needed to know who it had been, and if Anastasius would discover that for her, so much the better.
In the meanwhile, he was treating Maria Vatatzes precisely according to Zoe’s plan. The whispers as to the exact nature of Maria’s disease were spreading nicely. The tide of anger would in time take back her brother and her father, just as Zoe intended. “If someone is poisoning her, find out who, and give her an antidote,” she said to Anastasius. “If anyone knows such a thing, it is you.”
“Who would poison her?” Anastasius asked.
Zoe raised her eyebrows. “You ask as if I would know. Her brother Georgios is a friend of Andronicus Palaeologus, as Esaias is, and Antoninus was. They play hard, drink hard, and take their pleasure where they wish. Georgios has a high temper, so I have heard. Perhaps he has enemies? I have wondered if it could have a thread of connection with Bessarion’s death.”
“After five years?” Anastasius said with disbelief.
Zoe smiled. She was not quite sure how much Anastasius knew, and it was sharp in her memory that this bland-seeming eunuch could bite very hard indeed. “Five years is nothing. There is much yet to learn,” she said gently. “Antoninus