Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [230]
How much proof would it take for Michael to believe? In this darkening time, might he be more willing than before to perform one last act of clemency? Perhaps she might yet succeed.
She closed her eyes. Mary, Mother of God, forgive me for giving up too soon. Please. Perhaps you can’t save the city. We should have saved ourselves. But help me free Justinian … please?
She looked up at the strong, beautiful face. “I don’t know whether we deserve your help, maybe we don’t, but we need it.” Then she swiveled around and walked quickly and silently after Helena, so she could follow Esaias when the Mass was over. She needed to know everything about him that she could.
She told Leo and Simonis because she needed their help.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, puzzled.
They were sitting over an early supper.
“I need to know if he’s traveled,” she replied. “I can’t prove where to, but I can gain some idea if I can find out which ships he sailed on—”
“I’ll find out when,” Simonis interrupted.
They both turned to her in surprise.
“Servants know,” she said impatiently. “For heaven’s sake, isn’t it obvious enough? Food, supplies, packing clothes, maybe closing off part of the house! He might have brought treasures for himself, for his house, new clothes. They will know where he went, one of them will have gone with him. And they will certainly know for how long.”
Leo looked at Anna. “And when we know, what are you going to do?” he asked grimly, his face shadowed, eyes filled with sadness.
“Tell the emperor,” she replied.
“And he will execute Helena,” Simonis said with satisfaction.
“More likely have her murdered in private,” Leo said before turning to Anna. “But not before she has told the emperor everything she knows about you, including that you are a woman and have fooled him all these years. That you have treated him personally—very personally. You will not walk away without paying for that, perhaps with your life. Will you buy Justinian’s freedom at the cost of your own?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper. “I am not sure if I am willing to help you do that.”
Simonis blinked, hesitated, looking first at Anna, then at Leo. “Neither am I,” she said at last.
“Don’t you want to stop Helena, if that is what she plans to do?” Anna asked. Receiving no response, she tried again. “We may be killed when the city is taken anyway. Please, find this for me.”
“You should live!” Simonis said angrily, the tears running down her face. “You’re a physician. Think of all the trouble your father took to teach you.”
“Find out, or I’ll have to,” Anna said. “And you would be better at it than I would.”
“Are you ordering me to?” Simonis responded.
“Would that make any difference? Because if it would, then yes, I am.”
Simonis said nothing, but Anna knew she would do it, and do it with courage and dedication. “Thank you,” she said with a smile.
Simonis stood up and stalked out of the room.
It was a few days later that enough information was pieced together for Anna to be certain that Esaias had traveled to Palermo and to Naples on Helena’s behalf, and that Helena at least believed that she had a promise from the king of the Two Sicilies for her to rule Byzantium, as consort of the puppet emperor he would place on the throne. Her Comnenos and Palaeologus heritage would legitimize the succession in the eyes of the people. She would be empress—a feat Zoe could never have achieved.
Anna went to the Blachernae Palace to speak to Nicephoras. She would do it straightaway, before she lost her nerve, before she allowed Leo or Simonis to dissuade her.
She climbed the steps and went in through the huge entrance, acknowledged by the Varangian Guard, who knew her well. How many more times would she do this? Could it even be the last, this evening, as the dusk settled purple over Asia and the last light flickered on the waters of the Bosphorus?
She asked to see Nicephoras, telling his servant that it was