Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [141]
After Anastasius was gone and Thomais had assisted her to bathe and put on clean clothes, Zoe became aware of the steadily increasing pain in her leg. By nightfall, it was throbbing so powerfully that she could think of little else. She sent for hot water and measured out the powder Anastasius had left and dropped it into the cup. She was about to drink it, and suddenly a hideous thought came to her. What if Gregory was using Anastasius, perhaps the only person outside her own household whom she would trust?
Carefully, in case any of it spilled on her, she threw out the medicine. At first she thought to destroy it with fire and then realized just in time that it might be just as lethal if it was burned and its fumes inhaled. She ended up tipping all the powder into the hot water and pouring it down the drain.
Three days later, she was in even greater pain. In spite of having treated it herself and taken one of her own powders to get rid of fever, the wound was red and angry, and it felt as if it were on fire. Every now and then she was dizzy. She drank glass after glass of water; it tasted even more brackish than usual, and she was always thirsty.
Now she was certain that Gregory was behind the attack and that somehow he had managed to introduce poison into the wound.
“Look for poison!” she told Anastasius when he came. “The wound is infected. Someone is trying to kill me.”
Anastasius looked at her, studying her hot, golden eyes, her flushed skin, and then last the raw wound in her leg, which was beginning to suppurate. He touched it gently with one cool finger, then turned to her. “Did you use the medicine I gave you? And don’t lie, unless you want to lose your leg.”
“No,” she said quietly. “I was afraid that whoever poisoned me might have reached you, too.”
Anastasius nodded. “I see. Then we had better start again, from the beginning. The infection is serious now. I shall stay here and watch you. I have every interest in your recovery. It would be bad for my reputation if you died, so do as I tell you.” He smiled very slightly, a deep, inward humor.
He stayed, nursing her all day and to begin with all night as well. He sat beside her, talking to her through the increasing pain. At first it irritated her. Then gradually she realized that as she answered his questions, she became less aware of how badly she hurt. Obliquely, it was kind of him.
“Demetrios?” she answered his last question, smiling in spite of herself. “Not like his father. Weaker. In love with Helena? Probably not. In love with power, certainly. Thinks he hides it, but he doesn’t. Eirene’s son, but without her intelligence. Brilliant with money, like her.” She laughed, but so deep inside herself that he did not hear it. “Helena thinks he loves her, but then she thinks all sorts of things. Fool.”
“Did Justinian love her?” Anastasius asked, sounding only mildly interested, as if he were still trying to take her mind from the pain.
“Loathed her,” Zoe answered frankly. Damn it, her leg hurt! She was getting a little dizzy. Was she going to die after all?
He made her drink something more that tasted foul. Had Gregory got to him? She searched his eyes, his face, and could read something in it beyond curiosity, but what?
“Anastasius,” Zoe whispered.
“Yes?”
“If I am alive in the morning, I shall tell you why Justinian Lascaris killed Bessarion. Bloody fool! He didn’t come to me, and I was the one person who would have believed him. I can see it for myself now. Only mistake he made, but it cost him everything. Idiot!”
Anastasius looked as if she had struck him, his face an odd mixture of ashen pale and red spots on his cheeks, like weals.
The room was beginning to swim around Zoe. She was growing delirious with fever. He forced her to drink something that was even more vile than the last time, but when she awoke at midday she was much improved.
Anastasius was smiling at her. “Better?” he inquired with some satisfaction.
“Much better.” She sat