Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [170]
Sixty-three
SHE PRESENTED THE LETTER THAT NICEPHORAS HAD GIVEN her and asked to see Justinian alone. The letter suggested, without directly saying so, that she was on the emperor’s business, and the monk did not question it. Nicephoras had been careful to word it ambiguously.
She was conducted into a small, irregular-shaped courtyard, and the monk leading her stopped. “Take your shoes off,” he whispered. “The place where you stand is holy ground.”
Anna bent to obey and suddenly found tears in her eyes. She looked up, boots in her hand, and saw in the lantern light a huge spread of leaves where a bush mounded higher than her head and seemed to pour over the stones. A wild thought came into her head. Was this Moses’s bush, which had once burned with the voice of God? She turned to the monk.
He nodded slowly, smiling.
“You may have a short time until the next call to prayer,” he said gently, but the warning was implicit in his voice. She should not forget that Justinian was a prisoner here and she was being granted a privilege in speaking alone with him.
She was left to wait in an airless stone cell barely large enough to pace back and forth more than a few steps. When she heard the door swing on its heavy hinges, she whirled around.
For the first instant, he looked as he always had: his eyes, his mouth, the way his hair grew from his brow. Her heart lurched, and she could hardly breathe. The years vanished, and all that had happened between ceased to be real.
He was staring at her, confused, blinking. There was a first stumbling of hope in his face and then fear.
The monk behind him was waiting.
She must explain quickly, before either of them betrayed themselves. “I am a physician,” she said clearly. “My name is Anastasius Zarides. The emperor Michael Palaeologus has given me permission to speak with you, if you will permit me to.”
Even though she had pitched her voice with the throaty quality of a eunuch, he recognized it instantly. Joy flared up in his eyes, but he stood perfectly still, his back to the monk still standing behind him. When he answered, his voice trembled a little.
“I will be happy to speak with you … as the emperor wishes.” He half turned to the monk behind him. “Thank you, Brother Thomas.”
Brother Thomas inclined his head and withdrew.
“Anna! What in the name of—” Justinian started.
She cut him off by stepping forward and putting her arms around him. He responded, holding her so tightly that she felt bruised, although the pain was welcome.
“We have only a few minutes.” His body was hard, far thinner than last time they had seen each other, so many years ago. He looked older, almost gaunt. The lines in his face were deeper, and there were hollows around his eyes.
“You look like a eunuch,” he replied, still holding on to her. “What on earth are you doing? For God’s sake, be careful! If the monks find out, they’ll …”
She pulled away a little and looked up at him. “I’m good at it,” she said ruefully. “I didn’t dress like this to get in here. Although I would have! I’m like this all the time….”
He was incredulous. “Why? You’re beautiful. And you can practice medicine as a woman!”
“It’s for a different reason.” She also could not bear to tell him that she was unmarriageable, and why. That was a burden he did not need. “I have a good practice,” she went on quickly. “Often at the Blachernae Palace, for the eunuchs there, and sometimes for the emperor himself.”
“Anna!” he cut across her. “Don’t! No practice is worth the risk you’re taking.”
“I’m not doing it for the practice,” she said. “I’m doing it to find out enough to prove why you killed Bessarion Comnenos. It’s taken me so long because at first I didn’t even know why anyone would, but now I know.”
“No, you don’t,” he contradicted her. His voice dropped, suddenly gentle. “You can’t help, Anna. Please don’t become involved. You have no idea how dangerous it is. You don’t know Zoe Chrysaphes