Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [233]
Anna could not believe it.
Then the Varangian Guard at the end of the room, obedient as always, laughed as well.
Nicephoras joined in, a note of relief near hysteria.
The tears spilled over Anna’s eyes and she laughed as well, although it was closer to sobbing. She did it only because she had to. If the emperor laughed, then everyone must, too.
Then just as suddenly Michael was sober again, the sound cut off instantly. He stared at Nicephoras. “You knew this, Nicephoras?”
Nicephoras flushed deeply. “Not in the beginning, Majesty. By the time I did, I also knew that she would not hurt you. Indeed, I trusted her more than any other physician, both for her skill, which is great, and for her loyalty, which I knew I could rely on.”
“I imagine you could,” said Michael. “You are highly fortunate that I have the humor of despair, or I might not find this so amusing.”
“Thank you, Majesty.”
“Why tell me, Nicephoras? If you had said nothing, I would not have known. Why risk my anger?”
“Helena Comnena knows, Majesty. And in revenge for Anna Lascaris telling you of her plan, she will understandably in time betray Anna’s secret to you.”
“I see.” He leaned back in his seat again. “Of course she will.”
Michael turned to look at Anna, a look of fascination in his black eyes. “You would make a handsome woman. I can imagine Helena hates you. Zoe liked you, you know. Did she know you are a woman?”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“That explains much that I found curious. How Byzantine—” His voice choked suddenly in emotion, and the words died in his throat.
Anna looked away. To watch him now was intrusive. She stood still, because she had not been excused, but she kept her eyes downcast.
There was a disturbance outside, and the door opened. Two of the Varangian Guard appeared, with Helena between them. As in the Hagia Sophia, she was dressed in blue that bordered on purple.
“Come!” Michael ordered.
The Varangian Guard marched her forward, half dragging her, her feet stumbling. They stopped in front of the emperor, still holding Helena by both wrists. Her face was flushed, her hair half pulled undone from its elaborate coil, as if she had struggled hard. For once, in her fury, she had an echo of Zoe’s magnificence.
One of the guards opened his fist and let fall in Michael’s lap a ring, a locket, and a small box.
The calm leached out of Helena’s face.
“Your pact with Charles of Anjou,” Michael said quietly.
Her face twisted in a sneer. “You believe that … liar?” She jerked her head toward Anna, stopping short only as the bindings caught her wrist. “That physician of yours is a woman, Majesty! Did you know that? A woman, as much as I am, poking and prying at your body, without shame. You take her word over mine?”
Michael looked Anna up and down. “Are you sure he is a woman?” he asked curiously.
Helena gave a bark of laughter. “Of course I’m sure. Rip off her tunic, and you’ll see!”
“How long have you known?” he asked.
“Years!”
“And you did not think to tell me before today? Why is that, Helena Palaeologa?”
Too late she realized her mistake. Her eyes were wild, like those of an animal scenting blood and death.
Michael continued, “She is Anna Lascaris. Of imperial blood, like yours—or mine. She told me herself. But she is an excellent physician, and that is what I required of her. That—and loyalty.”
Helena drew in her breath as if to speak, then understood that it would change nothing, and she let it out again soundlessly.
Michael made a small, quick gesture with his hand, and the Varangian Guard tightened their grip on Helena and turned, pulling her away. She sagged a little, as if the strength had left her legs and she had difficulty holding herself up.
“I never trusted Zoe,” Michael said, his voice soft with regret. “But I liked her. She was a magnificent woman, all fire and passion, and within her own dreadful code, a kind of honor.” He turned to Anna. “You will have your letter. You had best hurry, while my word is good. When the city falls, it may mean nothing.” He smiled bleakly.