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By Root 857 0

greet her but remained seated, his knees a little apart, covered by the woven, brocaded silk of his dalmatica and the scarlet of the tunic underneath. He was a handsome man with his heavy black hair and beard, fine eyes, and slightly ruddy complexion. He had good hands. Zoe remembered the touch of them with pleasure, even now. They were surprisingly sensitive for a man who had been a brilliant soldier in his prime and still knew more of military strategy than most generals. In battle he had led his army rather than followed it. He was busy now reorganizing the army and the navy and overseeing the repair of the city walls. He was above all a practical man. What he wanted of Zoe would also be practical.

“Come forward, Zoe,” he commanded. “We are alone. There is no need for pretense.” His voice was soft and deep, as a man’s should be.

She stepped closer to him, but slowly. She would never presume and so give him the chance to rebuff her. Let him do the asking, the requesting.

“There is a matter in which you may be of assistance,” he said, watching her intently, his eyes searching her face. She was never sure how far he could read her. He was Byzantine to the core; nothing of the imagination passed him by. He was subtle, devious, and brave, but at the moment he had a heavy burden to carry and a broken and obstinate people to lead. They were blind to the realities of the new threat, because they dared not look at it clearly.

Since Bessarion’s death, Zoe was beginning to see the political situation differently. There was a betrayal still being planned somewhere, and when Zoe found it out, she would punish whoever was responsible, even if it was Helena.

She wished she could have spoken to Justinian before he went into exile, but Constantine had accomplished his rescue so smoothly, and so quickly, that that had not been possible.

Now she needed to know what Michael wanted of her. “Whatever I can do,” she murmured respectfully.

“There are certain people whose services you use …” He measured his words with care. “I would prefer not to be seen to use them, but they have skills I need. I wish for information. Later it may be more than that.”

“Sicily?” She breathed out the word; it was really more of an acknowledgment than a question.

He nodded assent.

She waited. A new bargain must be made, and that was good. She would deal with anyone if it was for Byzantium’s sake, but she would not do it cheaply. The Sicilian she employed was a weasel of a man, a double spy, but she had caught his one mistake and kept the proof of it where all his cunning would never find it. He was dangerous, and she must handle him with care, as one did a serpent. She knew why Michael could not afford to have any connection with him, even through his own spies. Nothing escaped the eunuchs closest to him, or the house servants and palace guards, the priests forever coming and going. He needed someone like Zoe, who was just as clever as he was but who could afford to be ruthless in ways he dared not. There were too many pretenders to the throne, would-be usurpers, plots and counterplots. Michael was only too bitterly aware of it, always watching over his shoulder.

He leaned forward, less than a yard from her now. “I need this man of yours,” he said quietly. “Not to strike yet, but in a while. And I need someone else in Rome also, a second voice.”

“I can find someone,” she promised. “What do you wish to know?”

He smiled. He had no intention of telling her. “Someone close to the pope,” he said. “And to the king of the Two Sicilies.”

“Someone with courage?” Hope flared inside her that after all, he meant to fight. Perhaps Michael would even assassinate the pope? After all, the pope was the enemy of Byzantium, and this was war.

He read her instantly. “Not that kind of courage, Zoe. Those days are past. Popes can be replaced easily enough.” There was anger in his eyes and something that might have been fear. “The king of the Two Sicilies is the real danger, and the pope is the only one who can hold him back. If we are to survive, we must compromise.”