Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [232]
She followed, bowing low, not meeting the emperor’s eyes until commanded to do so. When he spoke, she looked up. What she saw chilled her. Michael Palaeologus was not yet sixty, but he was an old man. He had the hollow-eyed look of one whose days were numbered.
“What is it, Anastasius?” he asked, searching her face slowly. “Have you come to tell me anything I do not already know?”
“I’m not certain, Majesty.” She was trembling and her words stuck in her throat, all but stopping her from breathing.
Nicephoras plunged in for her. “Majesty, Anastasius has word of an act of betrayal you may choose to allow, or choose to prevent. Perhaps it will come to nothing in the end, anyway.”
“What betrayal, Anastasius? Do you imagine it matters now?”
“Yes, Majesty.” Her voice was trembling, her body was cold. “Helena Comnena has been in communication with Charles of Anjou.”
“Really? Telling him what? How to invade our city? How to break its walls so the crusaders of the pope can put us to fire and the sword again, in the name of Christ?”
“No, Majesty. So that when he has taken us, and killed those loyal to you, the empire, and the Church, he can crown a new emperor in your place, with a wife who can claim two royal names, and an inheritance sufficient to give him some hold on the people’s obedience.”
Michael leaned forward a little in his chair, his face pale, the lamplight catching the white in his hair and beard. “What are you saying, Anastasius? Be careful whom you accuse. We are not fallen yet. It may be only a few days, even hours, but I still hold life and death in Byzantium.”
Her body shook. “I know, Majesty. Helena is the widow of Bessarion Comnenos, and … and also she is your illegitimate daughter by Zoe Chrysaphes. She did not know this until Eirene Vatatzes died. Her mother never told her.”
He sat immobile for so long, she was afraid he had had some kind of seizure. “How do you know this, Anastasius?” Michael asked at length.
“Eirene told me,” she said in a whisper. “I cared for her at her death. She wanted Helena to know, so she would take her own vengeance on Zoe, because Gregory loved her and not Eirene.”
“That I can believe,” Michael said. “And why do you tell me now, on the eve of ruin?”
“I did not know of Helena’s plan until I saw her in the Hagia Sophia, wearing blue that was almost purple, then I sought for the proof.” She swallowed. “Now I have it. May it please Your Majesty, I would like a last act of mercy from you, while you can give it, because you have the power of death, and also of life. Please give me a letter of pardon for my brother, Justinian Lascaris, who is imprisoned at St. Catherine’s in Sinai, for his part in the murder of Bessarion Comnenos.”
“He is in prison for his part in the plot to usurp the throne,” Michael corrected her.
“The plot failed because he could not dissuade them, so he killed Bessarion,” she argued. She had little to lose now.
He spread his hands slightly. “So Justinian was your brother. Why do you call yourself Zarides? Is Lascaris too dangerous a name for you? Or are you ashamed of it?”
Looking at Michael’s eyes, she knew he would not forgive her. “It is not Justinian’s fault,” she whispered. “He knew nothing of it.”
“Of what?”
Michael was waiting. In a few days they might all be dead, and it would be too late. She thought of Giuliano, whom she would never see again. Perhaps that was just as well. He would not forgive her either.
“I am a good physician, Majesty, but I am not a eunuch,” Anna said huskily.
The emperor did not understand.
“I am a woman. Zarides was my husband’s name, so it is mine. I was born Anna Lascaris, and gave it up only reluctantly.” She could feel the hot tears stinging her eyes and her throat so tight that it ached almost too much to breathe.
There was such silence in the room that when one of the Varangian Guard at the far end shifted the position of his feet on the floor, the rustle of it was audible.
Michael sat back, staring at Anna. Then suddenly he burst into laughter,