The soldier shrugged. Let his superior handle the madwoman, he thought. He gestured for Theadora to follow him, and led her to a nearby guardhouse. As he entered, he called to his captain, “Here’s a crazy woman for you. She claims to be the Empress Helena’s sister, Captain Demetrius.”
“I am Princess Theadora, Captain Demetrius. If you will have someone bring me a basin of warm water, please, I will prove it to you.”
The captain, an older man, was intrigued by the sunburned peasant who spoke the elegant Greek of the city’s upper class and who carried herself so proudly. “Get water,” he commanded, and when it was brought Theadora washed the stain from her face and hands. “As you can now see, captain, I am not a peasant,” she said holding out her smooth, white hands to him. She next reached into the bundle she carried and drew out a beautifully jeweled crucifix. “It is engraved on the back. Can you read?”
“Yes,” the captain said taking the pendant from her.
“My father gave it to me an the occasion of my marriage to Sultan Orkhan.”
“To my daughter, Theadora, from her father,” read the captain. “It’s interesting, but it doesn’t prove you are the princess, lady.”
“Nevertheless,” replied Theadora, “it should be enough for you to take me to the emperor. Or perhaps peasant women come to you every day, wash stain from their bodies, hand you valuable jewels, and demand to see the emperor.”
The captain laughed. “You certainly reason like old John Cantacuzene,” he said. “Very well, I’ll take you to the palace, but I will have to have you searched before we leave. What if you were an assassin?” Catching Theadora’s look of outrage, he quickly added, “My woman will do it, lady.”
She was taken into a small room and joined by a pretty girl who said, “Demetrius says you must strip completely so that I can be sure you conceal no weapons.” Theadora obeyed, and when the girl had satisfied herself, she returned the garments to the princess. While Theadora dressed, the girl poked through the few items in her basket. They then rejoined the captain.
“No weapons, Demetrius,” said the girl, “and do you know what? She has no hair on her body! Isn’t that funny?”
The captain looked at Theadora and said quietly, “Welcome home, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, captain,” Theadora replied as quietly. “May we go now?”
“Of course, Highness. I regret, however, that I shall have to take you up before me on my saddle. There is no litter available.”
“I have not been on a horse since I was a child,” said Theadora as they left the guardhouse.
The soldier who had brought Theadora to the captain looked at the captain’s woman and said, “He called her ‘Your Highness’. What convinced him that she speaks the truth?”
The girl laughed. “Only highborn women pluck the mound of Venus free of hair, silly, and only the Turk’s women are completely free of body hair. It was that plus her language and the pendant that probably convinced him.”
Captain Demetrius lifted Theadora up in front of him on his saddle, and they rode across the city to the Blanchernae Palace where the imperial family now resided. Theadora noted that though the city was filled with people, many of them seemed to have nothing better to do than wander about the streets. She also noted that more shops were shuttered than were open. She sighed. What she had told Helena but a few weeks back was true. Constantinople was a dying old man.
They rode unchallenged into the court of the Blanchernae. The captain dismounted, politely lifting his passenger down. She followed him to the captain of the watch. The two men greeted each other cordially.
“Captain Belasarius,” said Captain Demetrius, “I have the honor to present to you Princess Theadora Cantacuzene. She arrived in this extraordinary disguise just this morning.”
Captain Belasarius bowed. “You wish to be taken to your sister, Highness?”
“No. To the emperor.”
“Immediately, Highness. Please follow me.”
Theadora turned to Captain Demetrius. “Thank you,” she said simply, touching his arm. Then she followed the palace soldier. When they reached the antechamber they were told that the emperor was with the chief prelate of Constantinople, the prelate’s staff of lesser bishops, and other churchmen.
“I must see the emperor at once,” said Theadora, knowing that even now her sister would be receiving word of her arrival in the palace. “Announce me without delay!”
The majordomo shrugged. With royalty everything was imperative. He flung open the doors to the audience chamber and said in his best stentorian tone, “The princess Theadora Cantacuzene!”
Theadora hurried to the foot of her brother-in-law’s throne and, kneeling, held out her hands in a gesture of supplication. “Sanctuary, Majesty! I beg the sanctuary of your throne and that of the holy Church!”
John Paleaologi leapt to his feet. “Good God, Thea! What are you doing here?”
“Grant me sanctuary, John!”
“Yes! Yes! Of course! It is granted.” He helped her up and signaled for a chair for her. “How did you get here?”
Theadora looked about her. “Could we speak privately, John?”
The young emperor looked to the chief prelate. “Bishop Athanasius, this seems to be a rather delicate and pressing family problem. Would you and your people excuse us?”
The old bishop nodded sympathetically and retired from the room, taking his people with him.
“No one,” said the emperor firmly to the majordomo, “no one, not even the empress—especially the empress—is to enter my presence until I give you leave. If you fail me in this your own life is forfeit. Use whatever means you must, even physical means, to guard my privacy.”
The door shut behind the majordomo. Sitting back down on his throne, John Paleaologi looked down on his sister-in-law and said, “Now, Thea, tell me why you are here.”
“Orkhan is dead,” she began.
“We had heard rumors, of course,” replied the emperor, “but as yet we have no official word.”
“He died nearly a month ago. Murad was declared his heir, and is now sultan. I was forced to flee Bursa because Sultan Murad wishes me to join his household.”
“As his wife?”
“No,” she whispered, and two fat tears spilled down her cheeks. “Just as a member of his harem. John, I must be honest with you since by asking you to grant me asylum I ask you to defy your overlord.
“Before I was brought to the palace in Bursa to be Orkhan’s wife, I met Murad by accident. We met secretly in the convent orchard for many weeks. We fell in love and were confident that I should never be called to my husband’s bed. We actually planned to wed when Orkhan died.
“But then Father wanted military aid from the sultan in order to keep you and Helena at bay, and Orkhan wanted Tyzmpe as a toehold here in Europe. So the marriage contract had to be fullfilled…which meant that I had to bear my husband a child. I was removed from St. Catherine’s without any warning and brought immediately to Orkhan’s bed.
“Ever since then Murad and I have been at swords-points. He believes that I might have avoided my fate somehow and remained true to him. Of course that is not true. I was helpless. He is a fool!”
She gave a sob, and the emperor rose from his throne and put an arm about her. How she had suffered! And she had been all alone in her suffering. To him the miracle was that she had survived all this.
“Oh, John! I maintained my sanity only by keeping the love between us alive in my mind and heart. Have you any idea what hell it was for me to be a dutiful wife to Orkhan while loving his son?”
“Then why have you run from him, Thea? I am sure you must have misunderstood him. He must want you for a wife.”
“No, John, he was hurt, and he wants to hurt me now in return. I love him. I have always loved him. Why must I be forced to accept this hurt? I will not! Let me stay here for the present while I decide what to do. Even Murad will have a bit of a time tracing me as long as we are disc
reet.”
“It matters not if he knows you are here,” said the emperor. “I will protect you. Our walls will. Tell me, however, for I burn with curiosity…how did you get here?”
Theadora gave a watery chuckle and then told him.
The emperor laughed heartily. “What an ingenious little witch you are, little sister! A mind such as yours belongs either back in the Golden Age of Athens or somewhere in the future.”
“Perhaps I was there, and perhaps I shall incarnate again in a more enlightened age. But for now I am here, and as I must make my peace with this time, it must make its peace with me.”
John Paleaologi smiled. “I will provide you with everything you need, Thea. I am happy you came to me. First, I expect you will want to bathe. I will have the servants arrange for more suitable clothing for you, my dear.”
“Lord, yes! Bless your thoughtfulness, John.”
The emperor stood and, taking Theadora’s hand, smiled. “Let’s see if we can avoid Helena completely. You look too exhausted to cope with her now. I will handle Her Majesty, the empress.”
PART III
Alexander and Theadora
1359 to 1361
Chapter Thirteen
Theadora settled quietly into a large apartment in the palace. True to his word, the emperor kept his wife from her younger sister for more than a week while Theadora ate and slept, regaining her strength and her peace of mind.
Ten days after her return to the city the emperor held a banquet and she was invited. She entered the great dining hall of the Blanchernae Palace to the warm welcome of people she had not seen since her childhood and, in most cases, barely remembered. It seemed that everyone was happy to see her. She was led to the main table where the emperor and empress awaited her. Smiling, Helena kissed her younger sister on both cheeks, murmuring in her ear, “Bitch! If you have put us in danger I will kill you!” Then the empress proclaimed loudly, “Thanks be to God, dear sister, for your safe return from the infidel!”
“Thanks be to God,” came the echoing reply from all those in the hall.
Theadora was seated on her brother-in-law’s left. The Byzantine nobles in the hall were forced to agree that they had never seen such beauty as the two sisters possessed between them. This was grudgingly conceded by their wives.
The empress was gowned in white silk heavily embroidered with gold and silver thread, turquoises, pearls, and pink diamonds sewn into exquisite floral designs upon the material. With her rose and white complexion, sky-blue eyes, and shining golden hair topped by a gilt crown, Helena was at the height of her beauty.
In striking contrast, but no less lovely, Theadora wore a simple pale-green silk gown that molded her high breasts and then fell away. The flowing sleeves of the gown were embroidered slightly at the edges in gold thread. There was a faint, very becoming flush to her creamy gardenia skin, and her amethyst eyes sparkled beneath their dark, gold-tipped lashes. Her shining dark hair was braided and looped about the sides of her face and held by golden cauls.
John Paleaologi leaned over and said quietly to Theadora, “I have never seen you look lovelier, my dear sister. You will simply captivate our guest of honor when he sets eyes on you. I have arranged that he sit next to you.”
“Are you trying to marry me off so soon?” she teased him.
“Would you not like to remarry, my dear?”
She was silent, and he saw the sadness in her lovely eyes.
“You love Murad, don’t you, Theadora? No, no, you need say nothing. Your eyes tell me all. Perhaps marriage to a good man and having several children would ease your pain.”
“Who is this man you would have me meet, John?”
“The new lord of Mesembria.”
“And he has no wife?”
“He had one in his youth, but she died and he never married again. He was not Mesembria’s lord then. In fact, that he is its lord today is a bitter twist of fate for him. He was a third son and when his father died his eldest brother inherited. He ruled well for us. Unfortunately, the elder brother had no sons. So his heir was the next brother. That man had two boys. Several months ago the palace in Mesembria caught fire and burned to the ground. The entire ruling family perished. Only this third brother, who lived in another city, was left alive. He was recalled, confirmed, and crowned despot of Mesembria. Though he has several illegitimate sons, he has no legal heir. So he must marry.”
“And you think to match me with him?”
“If it pleases you. Understand, my dear, that I will not force you to any marriage. I am not your father seeking aid or alliances. Perhaps you would remain single, or take the veil, or,” and his eyes twinkled, “perhaps you would choose your own husband. You may, however, like the lord Alexander. He has charm, and there is not a woman at my court who hasn’t thrown herself at him. But all to no avail.”
“He sounds unbearable and quite the peacock. If he avoids women, perhaps they are not to his taste. Are you sure he is a real man?”
John chuckled. “I am sure he is a real man, Thea, but I will allow you to judge for yourself. Here he is now.”
“Alexander, lord of Mesembria,” intoned the majordomo.
Theadora looked to the end of the hall and gasped, feeling as if she had been struck. The man striding toward them was the pirate she had known as Alexander the Great. Her mind frantically sought to assemble the few facts she recalled about him. He had told her he was the youngest son of a Greek noble, and his speech, taste and manners had certainly attested to that. But he had never named his father, and it had never occurred to her to ask him.
He bowed, flourishing his long cape elegantly as he reached the high table. He was tanned, his hair bleached to its usual golden color. His eyes were still pure aquamarine. She could hear the audible sighs from the other women and saw her own sister quickly assess the newcomer with speculative, lust-filled eyes.
“Come, Alexander,” welcomed the emperor, “join us. We have seated you next to our beloved sister, Theadora.”
A beaming John made the introductions and then left them to become acquainted. She was silent, and Alexander said softly, “Are you not glad to see me, beauty?”
“Does Helena know who you are—were?”
“No, beauty. No one does, not even your revered brother-in-law. I must rely on you to keep my secret. Will you—for old times’ sake?”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I never thought I would see you again,” she said.
He chuckled. “Yet here I am, turning up like a bad copperpiece. And what is worse, they are proposing a match between us.”
She blushed. “You know about that?”
He did not tell her that it had been his idea, and that he had approached the emperor about it first. “The emperor and I have discussed it, but he tells me it must be your decision.” He took her hand beneath the table, and his was warm and strong. “Do you think you could be my wife, beauty?”
Her heart quickened. “Do not hurry me, my lord Alexander. I know nothing really of you.”
“What would you know? My father was Theodore, despot of Mesembria. My mother was Sara Comnenus, a princess of Trebizond. I had two older brothers, Basil and Constantine. My mother has been dead for several years, my father nearly two years, and a fire in Mesembria’s palace several months ago left me bereft of family—and an unwilling ruler. The rest you know, beauty.”
“I am truly sorry for your great loss,” she said softly.
“As am I, beauty, for my brothers were good men. Yet, as in all situations, there is a good side. As the lord of Mesembria I am able to ask the emperor for his widowed sister-in-law’s hand in marriage. Look at me, Theadora!”
It was the first time he had ever called her by her name. Surprised, she raised her eyes to his.
“I am an impatient man, beauty. You cannot deny the attraction we felt for each other when I held you and your son captive in my city. I believe you could learn to love me. You know more of me than most women know of
their bridegrooms. Say you will wed me.”
“My lord, you hurry me too quickly. I am confused. My husband is only recently dead, and I was forced to flee the unwelcome attentions of the new sultan. I do not even know if I wish to remarry.”
The hand holding hers beneath the table loosed it and moved to gently caress her thigh. She quivered. “Ah, beauty, you were not meant to live a celibate life. And you are not a wanton woman to take lovers like your sister. You are meant to be married, and to have children about you. I would have you, and I would have our children.”
“Give me but a little time, my lord Alexander,” she pleaded.
He did not press her further during the feast, turning instead to talk with the emperor. Yet he watched over her, seeing that she had the choicest viands and that her cup was kept filled with sweet wine. Toward midnight the emperor gave the signal that those who wished to leave might, and Theadora took the opportunity to flee the hall.
There was no doubt in her mind that Alexander attracted her, and he had been correct about one thing. She was meant to marry. Long ago her mother had promised her that when Orkhan died she would be brought home to Byzantium to make a good Christian marriage.
As a princess of Byzantium, however, she could not marry just anyone. There was no one within the emperor’s court who was of sufficient rank to be her husband. Among the city-states belonging to the empire, there was no prince other than Alexander who was not married, too old, or too young.
Practical considerations aside, Alexander was handsome, educated, and sensitive to her as a woman with a mind of her own. She did not think she loved him—but she thought she could. She was strongly attracted to him. He would not be a hard man to live with. And she did want more children.
Absently, she let her women disrobe her, sponge her with warm perfumed water, and slide a blossom-pink caftan over her. Dismissing them, she lay upon her bed.
If Murad had really loved her he would have offered marriage, not the shameful bondage he had suggested. Alexander offered her his heart and his throne.
She smiled to herself in the darkness. Alexander was a very stubborn man, and she did not think he would accept a refusal from her. A giggle of amusement escaped her. A determined Murad to her right, an equally determined Alexander to her left. The truth was that she had no other choice than to accept one of them.
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