Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [113]
“Nothing is broken,” he said with a rueful smile. “I am sorry. We should have been here sooner.”
Why could she not remember him? He put the wet cloth to her face again. There was blood on it.
“Who are you?” She wanted to shake her head, but with the slightest movement pain shot through her like a knife blade.
“My name is Sabas,” he replied. “But I expect you have never heard it.”
“Sabas …” It meant nothing.
“Zoe Chrysaphes was afraid for you,” he said. “She knew that Georgios Vatatzes had a violent temper, and overbearing family pride.”
Her breath caught in her throat, all but choking her. “Had?”
Sabas shrugged. “I am afraid he attacked us also, and in order to subdue him, it was necessary …” He left the sentence unfinished.
She sat up a little farther and looked past him. Georgios lay on the floor, blood on his face and his head at an angle that made it clear his neck was broken. Another man stood by him.
“Don’t worry,” Sabas said hastily. “We’ll take him away. Perhaps you should say a burglar attacked you. If anyone asks, you frightened him off.”
She laughed abruptly, close to hysteria. “Well, if they look at me, and reckon I made an even worse mess of him, no one will try to rob me again.”
Sabas smiled, softening the hard lines of his face. “Bought at a high price, but a good thing.” He helped her to stand, guiding her to a chair. “Can your own servants assist you, or would you like us to send for another physician?”
“They can assist me, thank you,” she replied. “Would you be kind enough to thank Zoe Chrysaphes for her concern, and your courage? If ever you need any help, it is yours, or your friend’s.”
He bowed, and then the two of them picked up Georgios and carried him out, leaving Simonis to come in, her face blanched with shock. While she did what she could to clean Anna’s cuts and apply ointment to the bruises, Anna’s mind raced. She should have known Georgios Vatatzes would take his sister’s rejection badly. Or was it more complex than that?
Bessarion’s murder again, old fear, old vengeance? And how had Zoe’s servants known what to expect and from whom? The answer to that was only too obvious, once Anna faced the facts. Zoe had poisoned Maria, knowing it would ruin the family and intending it to. She had sent Sabas and his fellow servant, not so much to rescue Anna as to make certain that Georgios was killed.
But what had they done to earn Zoe’s hatred to such a depth?
Thirty-six
WHEN ANASTASIUS WAS SHOWN INTO ZOE’S magnificent room, the physician was clearly angry, but quietly so, his eyes hard as stones on the shore. He looked appalling; his face was swollen and dark with bruises, and he limped. He dropped herbs on the table as if she had ordered them, but presumably they were to explain to the servants why he was here.
“What are they?” Zoe inquired with interest, as if she had no concern at his appearance, no sudden welling up of fear that he was really hurt.
“The antidote to the poison you used on Maria Vatatzes,” Anastasius replied icily. “I brought it so that you know I have it, and other antidotes. And that Arsenios knows I have it.”
Zoe raised her eyebrows. “It seems to have taken you rather a long time to find it. I assume you learned nothing about Bessarion’s death from Georgios, before he attacked you? Unfortunately you will learn nothing now.”
Temper flared in Anastasius’s eyes. “It won’t take so long if it happens again,” he retorted, entirely ignoring the question about Georgios and Bessarion’s death. “Because I shall know where to look. Of course, should you be the victim, that would be different. You might find it yourself first, if you are well enough to get out of bed.”
Zoe was stunned. Was he threatening her? “How ungrateful of you, Anastasius. After I had the forethought to send Sabas to your rescue.” She regarded him up and down carefully. “You look awful. Not