Anna took a deep breath. ‘Father, before you continue, there is something important I must tell you.’
Lord Isaac took her hand, shaking his head. ‘Anna, I know what you are going to say, and I am sorry, but—’
‘You know? How can you possibly—?’
‘You favour Lord Constantine and have done since your return home.’ Her father’s expression softened. ‘I am sorry, Anna, but Constantine is not acceptable. Lord Basil will be your husband.’
‘No, Father, he will not.’
Lord Isaac flinched and drew himself to his full height. ‘Anna, it is Lord Basil or it is no one.’
He wasn’t listening! It was as though her father was playing the part of kindly father when in truth he wasn’t really listening at all. Taking another deep breath, Anna tried again. ‘Father, I regret this deeply, but I cannot and will not marry Lord Basil.’
‘Yes, yes, I see you are upset. I am sorry about Constantine, indeed I am. My dear, you must understand how much better it would be if the family had close ties to someone with the ear of the Emperor.’
‘Father—’ Anna held his gaze and made her voice hard ‘—I will not marry Lord Basil! I will not come here to meet him the day after tomorrow, and if you try to force me, I shall not hesitate to embarrass you. Publicly.’
Lord Isaac shifted back, mouth slightly open. At last it appeared he had heard her.
‘You would humiliate me in public? Again?’ He narrowed his gaze. His fists were clenched, his beard quivered. Anna knew the signs, he was working himself into a frenzy. ‘I can’t believe you would do this again! Running off to Rascia was bad enough, but now…if you knew the trouble I had gone to to arrange such a prestigious marriage for you.’
‘Father, you might have asked me first. You did say you would give me a choice.’
‘You ungrateful girl, God knows why I was cursed with such a daughter. After all the effort that has gone into making this alliance!’ Abruptly, her father’s shoulders seemed to slump, a wheedling tone entered his voice. ‘You cannot mean this, you will meet Lord Basil.’
‘I will not. Furthermore, Father, I also have to tell you that I do not want Constantine either—we are simply friends as we have always been.’ Her throat was dry, she swallowed hard. ‘Lord Michael is also unsuitable. I will marry a man of my choosing or I will remain unwed.’
Her father looked at her as though she, like the double-headed eagle on the Imperial standard, had grown an extra head.
‘Lord Basil is a kind man, Anna,’ he said. ‘I know you are nervous, he has been married before, but there is no need for you to worry. I am sure he will learn to love you.’
‘It is not enough, Father, I will not marry Lord Basil. It is not enough to be kind, and love…’ her voice cracked on a blinding flash of insight ‘…love must be freely given, it cannot be commanded. I refuse to marry Lord Basil.’
Her father tugged at his beard. ‘That is your final word on the matter?’
‘Yes, Father, it is.’
‘Very well. You drive me to take other measures.’ His hand fell from his beard. ‘Since you will not obey your father, you will be leaving the Palace. You have until tomorrow morning to pack your belongings.’
Anna’s stomach lurched. ‘You are sending me away?’
‘A retreat, yes, that is what I shall say. You, my dear daughter, are going into retreat. Bishop Maurice is an old friend, he will be delighted to take you under his wing until you come to your senses.’
For a moment it seemed as if the golden room was swirling around her, dazzling in its opulence. Dizzying. Finally Anna found her voice. ‘But, Father, what about my duty to the Princess?’
How am I to pretend to be nursing the Princess, if I am sent away?
Her father’s face was dark, he was weaving his fingers into his beard. ‘Your first duty is to me, girl. The Princess has had you to herself for two years, she will understand you need time near your family. A retreat at Saint Michael’s in Heraklea will refresh you. Bishop Maurice will remind you of the importance of doing your duty, and you will emerge a new woman. Be ready at daybreak. And, Anna…’
‘Father?’
‘Do not be alarmed if you notice extra guards have been posted to Princess Theodora’s apartment—they will be there to protect you.’ Lord Isaac turned on his heel, and a heartbeat later, Anna heard him outside. ‘Sergeant!’
‘Lord Isaac?’
‘When my daughter comes out, be so good as to see her safely back to the Princess’s chambers. She has announced her intention of going on a silent retreat and will speak to no one. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Anna stood amid the glories of the Emperor’s throne room, dazed by her father’s pronouncement. He was making a prisoner of her, he thought by doing so he could bend her to his will, he thought he could break her. If he had stayed a moment longer, she could have told him that he would only succeed in alienating her, some things could not be forced.
Her eyes misted and the room became a blur of gold. She had not been able to force William to love her, no more would her father force her into obedience.
* * *
It was the sound of the hall door being flung back on its hinges that woke him. Groping for his sword, Willliam pushed aside the sheet that held Anna’s scent and sat up. A light flared in the dark, falling on a face he knew.
‘Constantine! It’s past midnight—what brings you here at this hour?’
‘Anna,’ Constantine said, coming to perch on the edge of the couch. ‘I came as soon as I knew.’
William went cold. ‘She is in trouble?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s happened? She’s not hurt?’ William should not care. Anna had told him she was content to marry Lord Basil, and William was leaving the City in a couple of days. He was meant to be going home to renew his acquaintance with the woman his father had approved as his wife. Despite this, he had been toying with the idea of asking to see Anna. Just once more. As an excuse, he had being going to say that now he had his father’s purse he was in a position to repay her. At the very least he owed her a bracelet. ‘Constantine, what’s happened?’
‘Anna is leaving the City in the morning.’
‘What!’ William swung his legs off the couch. ‘I have to see her.’
‘You can’t. Her father forbids it—she is not allowed to see or speak to anyone. I only found out because Juliana managed to get word out. Lord Isaac has Anna sealed up in that apartment as though it were her tomb.’
‘Mon Dieu. Why is her father doing this?’ William ran his hand round the back of his neck. ‘Do you know?’
‘Anna has refused to marry Lord Basil. She is to stay in retreat until she comes round to her father’s way of thinking.’
‘She told me she was ready to accept Lord Basil,’ William said, slowly.
Constantine lifted a brow. ‘And you believed her?’
‘Fool that I am, I did.’ Swearing, William reached for his tunic. ‘Something she said had angered me, I was blind to anything else. Where is she being sent, do you know?’
‘To the Bishop in Heraklea—he’s a friend of Lord Isaac’s. Poor Anna, they won’t let her out until she agrees.’ Constantine smothered a yawn. ‘Anyhow, thought you would want to know. Her ship leaves shortly after dawn.’
‘My thanks, Constantine.’ William dragged his tunic over his head and watched Constantine give another yawn. ‘Come on, Constantine, you can’t fall asleep, there’s too much to do. You can start by waking the others.’
Constantine gave him an ironic salute. ‘Yes, sir!’
* * *
The sun was lighting the eastern sky as Lady Anna of Heraklea boarded the vessel her father had booked for her. She took but one maidservant with her, as befitted a lady about to go into a serious retreat. Her ship was a merchantman that had been moored in the docks along the Golden Horn, it was bound for Venice with a cargo of priceless silks. After some hasty negotiations with Lor
d Isaac, the captain had agreed to stop off at the port of Heraklea. Lady Anna and her maidservant would disembark there, as would the handful of foot soldiers Lord Isaac had so thoughtfully provided for his daughter’s protection.
Anna stood alone at the handrail as the ship nosed down the Golden Horn. The wind was pulling her veil, the smell of brine was sharp in her nostrils. Her heart was so full of pain, she thought it must burst. She had hoped that the message she had sent out via Juliana might have reached William, that he might realise how much she regretted trying to force him into marriage, that he might…well, she would never have expected rescue, but she would have liked to bid him farewell.
Obviously, it was too late for that. I will never see him again.
The sun rose higher, a dazzling ball of fire. The City walls glided by, strong and solid. They were sailing so close to them, Anna could see the red lines of brick that ran like veins through the stonework. Soldiers were stationed on every tower and turret. Soon, they would round the point and enter the Bosphoros and shortly after that, they would reach the Sea of Marmara. Soon, she would get her last glimpse of the Great Palace.
What is he doing? Will he marry this Lady Felisa? Will he do so willingly, or simply to please his father?
Her nerves were raw with misery. Sir William Bradfer will do as he chooses. It is not my concern. I should be planning my future, not thinking about him. I should be pondering whether it will be possible to win my father round. I cannot marry Lord Basil!
It was irritating the way her mind kept coming back to William when she should be thinking of other things, such as how she would pass the time on her enforced retreat. She was like a woman bewitched and had been since the moment she had seen him.
I can’t get him out of my mind. Sweet Virgin, am I going to feel this way for ever?
The sunrise had gilded the sea ahead of their ship, the far horizon was a swirl of pink and gold, as bright as the mosaics in the Emperor’s throne room. Anna was so intent on the sunrise and her thoughts, that she did not notice the other ship edge into the Golden Horn.
* * *
This second ship had been moored in one of the wharves reserved for Varangian vessels. It was a warship. The row of painted shields mounted along the guardrail were immediately recognisable as Varangian—a black wolf snarled on one, a green serpent writhed on another. There was a dragon, an eagle, a white bull…
The crew leaned on their oars and the warship entered the main channel, following the path of the trader.
Given that the second ship was a Varangian warship, it carried a strange cargo. The man standing in the prow with his hand on his sword hilt was no Varangian, he was Sir William Bradfer, heir of Count Jean La Roche-Guyon. The wind ruffled his blond hair.
A party of Frankish knights had boarded with Sir William, they had squires and horses with them. The horses were tethered in a makeshift stall by the mast, with the squires close by, lest the horses need soothing.
William kept his eyes pinned on the trader ahead. Timbers creaked as the warship’s hull flexed and settled into the current. Anna had told him that she was content to marry Lord Basil and now, now that her lie was revealed, he could not abandon her. The thought of Anna being immured until she gave in to her father was appalling.
As the walls of Constantinople slid past, William thought he recognised the small harbour they were passing. He couldn’t see the Boukoleon, but perhaps the angle was not right…there were two towers…
He gestured at a sailor. ‘Is that the Imperial harbour?’
‘No, sir. That’s the Gate of the Forerunner. You won’t see the Palace until we are further out. We haven’t got past the chain yet.’
‘The chain?’
Sir Bruno came to stand at this elbow, his cloak snapped in the breeze. ‘The chain is part of the City’s defences. See the watch points built into the fortifications on either side of the estuary?’
William looked, but he was only half-listening. Anxiety curled inside him. Thank God for Constantine, he thought. It was doubtful he could have enlisted the
Varangians without him. Constantine was surely the only man in the Palace to know that not all of the Guard had pledged their oath to Emperor Alexios and were thus free to take other commissions. For a fee, naturally. Men who had been in the Guard did not come cheap. They were efficient though, damned efficient, once they realised he was serious about hiring them.
Nevertheless, it would be a close race—the trader ahead was making a fair speed. If it came to a chase, would they be outrun?
‘There is a massive chain that reaches from one side to the other,’ Sir Bruno was saying. ‘It is raised when there is a need to stop vessels entering or leaving the ports in the Golden Horn.’
William stared with renewed interest at the fortifications on either side of the water. ‘A chain that stretches across the Golden Horn? I heard a tale about a chain being used to try to stop a Norse king from leaving the City. Thought it was just a myth.’
A gull hurtled past them. Sir Bruno grunted. ‘It was no myth, the Norse king’s name was Harald. He got away, but the chain broke the back of one of his ships.’
William studied the great towers. ‘They must have powerful winches.’
‘And a pretty large chain.’ Sir Bruno grinned.
For a moment, William grinned back. Then his grin faded whilst what Sir Bruno had told him about the chain sank in. They didn’t have much time. The trader would shortly be entering the Bosphoros, when they reached the main channel, boarding would become tricky. He didn’t want anyone killed.
He gave the two towers another careful look and touched Sir Bruno’s arm. ‘Sir, about that chain? Do you reckon the men in those towers would see if we signalled them?’
Sir Bruno leaned on the guardrail. ‘Bound to.’ He paused. ‘They will use flags, I expect.’
‘Very well,’ William said, smiling. ‘Captain!’
‘Sir?’
‘Signal the towers, if you please, I should like the chain raised.’
The captain opened his mouth to protest, but William fixed him with a look and he shut it again. The order was given and moments later several flags raced up a halliard.
* * *
A movement in the mouth of the Golden Horn caught Anna’s eye, the sun appeared to be bouncing off a silvery line that lay on the water directly in front of the ship. She gestured for her maid. ‘Juliana, come here a moment.’
‘My lady?’
Anna pointed. ‘What’s that?’
‘Holy Mother, it’s the chain! My lady, they are raising the chain!’
The lookout yelled. Sailors hurtled across the deck. Ropes were hauled, the steersman put the tiller hard over, the oars were raised. Slowly, the ship began to turn.
Anna focused on the thread of light—it stretched right across the mouth of the estuary. The chain had indeed been raised, thousands of water droplets were sparkling as they fell back into the river. Their ship was the only vessel on this section of the waterway—someone had decreed it would not be permitted to leave.
The lookout let out another cry, he was pointing frantically upriver. Anna’s pulse quickened.
Juliana glanced back at the docks and clutched Anna’s
arm. ‘Someone of importance is determined to hold us. Look, my lady, a Varangian galley is on its way.’
‘A Varangian galley?’ With hope and despair battling it out inside her, Anna turned to see. Juliana was right, a few hundred yards away, a Varangian warship was indeed bearing down on them. Anna could see the row of shields, she could see the crew, rowing towards them as though their lives depended on it. Water dripped from the blades of their oars.
‘Sweet Mother, they are coming right at us!’ She gripped the guard-rail.
The trader heeled sharply to one side as it tried to evade the warship. Ropes groaned, men swore.
‘No chance,’ Juliana muttered. ‘The channel is too narrow. My lady, with the chain blocking our way, and the warship beari
ng down on us, we are not going anywhere.’
‘The Varangians are not wearing mail,’ Anna observed, thoughtfully. ‘I can see battleaxes, but where are their helmets?’
William, I can see William! The warship was almost on them, water frothed at its prow, its oars were raised…and there was William standing by the prow. She forgot to breathe. William!
Ropes snaked into the air, men strained at the helm. The captain of the trader ran this way and that, his words snatched away by the wind.
‘They intend to board, my lady.’
‘So I see,’ Anna said, feeling a smile creep over her face. He came! William came! She watched the warship draw steadily closer, grappling hooks appeared, shields were whipped out of the way. They were determined to board.
* * *
William searched the deck of the merchantman. Where is she?
A drift of blue flickered at the edge of his vision. There! She was standing by the handrail, veil rippling out like a banner. Once he had seen her, he could see nothing else. Blindly, he fumbled for Bruno’s sword arm. ‘There’s no need for violence when we board, but I shall not go on to Apulia without her.’
‘Of course not.’
For a moment William was rooted to the deck, unable to take his eyes off her. What a mystery life was. I love that woman. She saw me chained like a dog at the market and she bought me, yet I love her.
Bruno inhaled sharply. ‘We shall have to be wary, though. It looks as though her father has sent his guards. Look, boy, they have her surrounded.’
‘We outnumber them,’ William said.
The Varangian galley drew alongside the trader. Their ship shuddered as two sets of timbers met and grappling hooks flew over the side. The warship’s captain shouted, the captain of the merchantman shouted back, and for a few minutes there was a chaos of bellowing and confusion. Finally, the ships were secured so tightly there was not an inch between them.
Chained to the Barbarian Page 23
