by Speer, Flora
“I am no barbarian. I am a friend of Basil Panopoulos and of his sister, who was once my nurse. You will be punished if you do not tell them I am here.”
The servant’s expressive face showed his fearful reaction to Erik’s threat. “Wait in this room.”
Spyros left, and a moment later a tall, muscular man entered. He stood impassively by the inner door, a gleaming sword in his hand. He never took his eyes off Erik.
“Is this a palace?” Maura whispered. “I thought your Basil was a merchant. I have never seen a house like this before.”
Lenora looked about her. The entrance hall had a high, vaulted ceiling and a marble floor. On the walls were painted murals of hunting scenes. The only furniture was a long stone bench at one side of the front door. Lenora imagined would-be visitors sitting in a row on the bench, waiting to gain admission to the presence of Basil or his sister.
They were made to wait a very long time. Maura eventually sank down on the hard stone bench and leaned her head against the wall. Lenora wandered about the room, looking at the murals. Only Erik stood quietly in the center of the room, waiting patiently.
At last there was a sound from behind the tall guard. The servant Spyros had returned.
“I have told my mistress of your presence,” he said, his tone revealing just how offensive that presence was to him, “and also of your disgraceful appearance. She will see you, but you must wait here. You will not be admitted to the house until she is certain you are who you claim to be.” As he finished speaking a woman entered the hall.
Eirena Panopoulos was twenty-six, one year older than Erik. She was elegant rather than beautiful, a tiny, small-boned woman, with large brown eyes, a high-bridged nose, and full red lips. Her black hair was braided with silk ribbons and coiled around her head in an ornate style, leaving frizzy curls on her forehead. She wore a long, wide-sleeved gown of deep green silk, into the fabric of which was woven a red-and-gold flower pattern. Around her shoulders was draped a shawl of brilliant orange, patterned in blue and yellow, with a border of gold threads. She wore heavy gold and carnelian earrings.
Her posture was stiffly erect, her movements carefully controlled. She advanced a few steps into the room and stood still, studying the three travelers before her.
Lenora felt Eirena’s eyes on her with a cold, dark gaze, speaking nothing of warmth or welcome. Looking back at that exotic, glittering apparition, Lenora felt like the crudest of country wenches. If all the inhabitants of Grikkland were like this one, it was no wonder they thought the Norsemen, with their rough woolen clothes and easy, open manners, were barbarians.
Lenora could see Eirena had impressed Maura in the same way. Maura had risen from the stone bench and moved to a position where she was partly hidden behind Erik, yet could still have an uninterrupted view of this vision of Byzantine splendor.
Eirena had been regarding Erik carefully, from a safe distance, as though she feared he would smell bad if she got too close. A faint smile barely touched her beautifully painted features.
“It is you,” she finally said. “Erik. After so long a time. I could not believe it when the Prefect sent word you had come.”
She spoke slowly. Lenora could not understand everything Eirena said, but the Greek Erik had taught her at Thorkellshavn and had insisted on speaking with her and Maura during the last days of their journey, now stood her in good stead.
She could at least make out the general meaning of Eirena’s words.
“I apologize for coming before you clothed like this,” Erik said formally, “but my journey has been long and arduous, and I have no other garments. When we were permitted to enter the city we came directly here.”
The smile on Eirena’s face became just a little more pronounced and now spread to her eyes. She took one step forward.
“You were so eager to see me again that you forgot your manners? How like you, my impetuous love,” she said. “I knew I was right to wait for you. I always knew you would return to me. Erik, agape mou, my beloved, enter my home and be welcome.”
Part Four
Early September
To Late October,
A.D. 868
Chapter 24
A manservant appeared to lead Erik away. The women were conducted by another servant through the interior of Basil’s house to a large, second-floor chamber decorated with mosaic floors and walls and containing a huge metal tub. Eirena, who had accompanied them, gave abrupt orders to two female servants, then disappeared without explanation. One of the servants approached Lenora.
“Te banio,” she said carefully, as though speaking to a child. “Nea foremata.”
“What are they going to do to us?” Maura asked fearfully.
“We are to take baths and put on new clothes. They won’t hurt us,” Lenora assured her. “These people are Erik’s friends.”
Lenora did not mention her shock at Eirena’s manner of greeting Erik. She hoped she had misunderstood Eirena’s words, which had seemed to confirm her own fears about the Greek woman’s relationship with Erik.
They bathed and washed their hair with the assistance of the servants. Afterward they were led to meet Eirena in a luxurious bedchamber. The windows of this room looked out over the water to hazy purple land in the distance. Lenora hurried to the window to see the view.
“That is Asia,” Eirena informed her. “Over there lies Anatolia. It is part of the Empire too.”
“Where is Erik?” Lenora turned away from the window in time to surprise a flash of suspicion in Eirena’s eyes at the mention of Erik’s name.
“He is being cared for as you are. He has asked that we all eat together this evening. You will see him then.”
“Will Basil be there too?” Maura asked timidly. “Erik has told us so much about him. I would like to meet him.”
“My brother is in Thessalonica on business,” Eirena said. “He will return in another week or so.”
They were given silk gowns to wear, cut straight and full in the Greek style, but caught at the waist with corded belts, and with long, wide sleeves. From their size, Lenora suspected these clothes were Eirena’s castoffs.
Maura was so tall her pale green gown did not reach her ankles, and the sleeves were far too short. She pulled the belt tightly around her narrow waist.
“It will have to do,” Eirena said impatiently, and turned to Lenora.
Lenora’s dress was a light brown, brocaded in deep blue and red, with a red belt. It was almost long enough, but she had bigger bones than Eirena, and her figure was fuller. The gown was too tight, especially across the bosom. Each time she moved, Lenora was certain the seams would split.
“Your skin is too brown. It’s disgusting,” Eirena said, looking at Lenora critically.
“I have been in the sun every day,” Lenora said mildly, not wanting to antagonize the woman. She noticed Eirena’s olive complexion was smooth and untanned, and she was carefully made up. “Could I wear paint too?”
“Lenora,” Maura gasped. “Why would you want to do such a thing? Only wicked women wear paint.”
“This is a civilized city, and we use cosmetics,” Eirena said sharply. “If you are going to stay in Constantinople, you must do the same.”
She commanded her servants to bring cosmetics, and with their assistance Lenora applied color to eyes and cheeks and lips. Maura watched in fascination, and when Eirena stepped out of the room, she dipped her own finger into a pot, and, giggling, tried a little red on her pale cheeks.
They were conducted to yet another room, where they were to dine. The walls of this chamber were painted with flowers and trees and with the figures of men and women in ancient Greek costumes who were consuming an assortment of exotic foods, all depicted in bright colors. The floor of the room was pale marble; the table and chairs were carved and gilded wood with blue silk cushions. The dining room opened onto an inner courtyard, where bright flowers bloomed in carved marble pots and a marble fountain played.
When Erik
appeared Lenora hardly recognized him. His ragged beard was gone and his hair was trimmed just below his ears in the Greek style, with a fringe across his brow.
“I see your old clothes still fit. I saved them for you,” Eirena told him.
He did look handsome, in a knee-length tunic of deep blue silk, edged in gold and green embroidery, and a gold belt. His hose were a lighter blue and his shoes were of fine, soft leather.
He was gravely polite to Eirena, but when he looked at Lenora over the Greek woman’s head, she saw laughter in his emerald eyes.
“You two look much improved,” he teased. “Thank you for helping them, Eirena. You are very kind.”
“I am happy to do whatever you wish,” Eirena replied.
Lenora had the odd feeling Eirena was not happy at all, but was in fact angry that Erik had appeared on her doorstep with two female companions. She thought Eirena would have much preferred to have Erik all to herself.
They ate a meat soup, followed by roast kid with onions, leeks, and garlic, and a dish of rice and lentils, all washed down with a resinous wine. Then they were served fruits and honey tarts. The food was heavy and oily, but after the meager rations available on the trip from Kiev, they all ate heartily.
When the meal was finished, Eirena spoke to one of her ever-present maidservants, and then to Lenora. As she had done before, she spoke slowly and carefully, leaving Lenora with the impression that Eirena wanted to make certain her ignorant northern guests could understand the elegant Greek speech of their hostess.
“You will be shown to your sleeping chamber now. I know you must be tired after your long journey. Feel free to sleep as late as you wish tomorrow. I will give orders you are not to be disturbed.”
“Erik?” Lenora looked at him in perplexity. He must know she wanted to speak with him, to learn what his plans were for her. Would he free her a second time, now they were safely in Miklagard? She was suddenly uncertain about wanting her freedom from him.
It was apparent Eirena did not know her true situation. Sure her haughty hostess would swiftly banish her to the servant’s quarters or worse if she ever found out, Lenora did not dare to mention it until she and Erik were alone. But when would that be? There he was, standing relaxed and smiling at Eirena’s side, and bidding her and Maura good night.
“Sleep well,” he added.
“You are weary too,” Lenora said, too stubborn to give up and go away quietly. She was rewarded by an exasperated look from Eirena, who started to say something before Erik interrupted her.
“It doesn’t matter. I have much to say to Eirena. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Annoyed, Lenora followed the servant to the chamber appointed for herself and Maura. There she lay in a soft bed and fumed as the night crept slowly by.
She had known all along, ever since she had first heard of the woman’s existence, that Eirena wanted Erik. Now that she had seen them together, she was certain of it. She imagined Eirena pressed into Erik’s arms, her dark head barely reaching his chest.
No, Erik would never do such a thing. He had said he wanted her, Lenora. Still, Eirena was obviously clever, and, Lenora suspected, also devious.
She had to see Erik, to feel his reassuring arms around her. She slipped out of bed, being careful not to disturb Maura, and went to the door. The corridor outside was empty, lit by a few oil lamps in ornate dishes. She did not know where Erik’s room was, but she would find it. She took a few tentative steps along the corridor.
A hand caught at her arm. With a stifled scream, Lenora stopped. A man in a simple servant’s tunic stood before her. Lenora recognized the elderly Spyros.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To find my friend Erik.”
“You must stay in your room. I am to guard your door. I will be punished if you leave.”
“I don’t need a guard.” Lenora drew herself up and faced Spyros proudly. “I order you to take me to Erik,” she commanded.
“Lady, I dare not.”
“What is this noise?” Eirena appeared from a door a short distance down the hall, looking angry. She was wrapped in a cream wool shawl, and her curly black hair tumbled over her shoulders in disarray. “How dare you disturb my household at this late hour?”
“I want to see Erik,” Lenora told her.
“In the middle of the night? You should be ashamed of yourself. No respectable woman would go to a man’s room after dark.”
“In Denmark, Erik and I lived together,” Lenora told her boldly, “and I saw him whenever I wanted.”
Eirena went pale.
“I am shocked that you would admit such a thing publicly,” she said, “but I knew from your manners you were a loose woman. You are too familiar with Erik, and you are too outspoken. I would never allow you to stay here, except that Erik wishes it.”
“I want to see him.”
Eirena smiled, a maddening, distinctly superior smile.
“He is sleeping,” she said, but did not say where.
After a few moments’ silence, during which Lenora choked back both anger and tears, Eirena, apparently pleased with the effect her words had created, spoke to the manservant.
“Take this woman to her room. She is to stay there until morning.”
There was nothing Lenora could do, for in spite of his age, Spyros was clearly stronger than she.
She crawled back into bed beside Maura and lay there, so furious with Eirena that she was unaware of the tears streaming across her cheeks and onto the silken embroidered pillow.
Chapter 25
It was noon of the following day before the women were allowed to leave their room. When she asked for Erik, Lenora was told he had gone out. She believed Eirena was trying to keep them apart.
Lenora was totally baffled by Eirena’s behavior. The woman acted as though their confrontation of the night before had never happened. She was, in her stiff, distant way, pleasant to both her guests, finding more of her old clothes for them to wear, speaking easily of her life as mistress of her brother’s house, even advising Lenora how to paint her face.
“Is it true you saved Erik’s life?” Maura asked.
“Yes,” Eirena answered. “Basil has a villa outside the city, on the Bosporus, where we go to escape the summer heat. He was away from home when the Rus made their unexpected attack. After they had been driven off and a great storm sent by heaven to protect us had wrecked many of their ships, they sailed back to their own country. The next morning I found Erik washed ashore at the edge of our garden. I was certain he would die, but he lived in spite of his grave injuries.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t turn him over to the government as a prisoner. That would be the proper thing to do, wouldn’t it?” Lenora said with acid in her voice.
Eirena ignored the sarcasm. “It is our Christian duty to care for the sick and injured,” was her bland reply. “Basil was angry with me when he returned home and found Erik in the villa, but he soon grew to like Erik. My brother has a great many important friends in our government bureaucracy, so he was able to make arrangements with the authorities for Erik to return to the city with us at summer’s end. Erik stayed here with us for three years. Together, he and Basil were instrumental in devising the new trade agreements with the Rus.”
“From which your brother has profited a great deal,” Lenora added.
“Of course; that was their purpose.” Eirena smiled.
Lenora was quickly bored in the rich seclusion of the Panopoulos house. She missed the easy freedom of her former existence. Only her brief stay in Attair’s house had been as restrictive as the cloistered luxury from which she now suffered.
Adding to her feelings of confinement were the armed guards who watched over the house. There were always one or two in the entrance hall, usually one outside the front door, and others placed throughout the house. She later learned two of these men always accompanied Basil when he went out.
“They are necessary for our safety. My brot
her is a wealthy man and many are envious of him,” Eirena told her. “Basil also needs protection when he has business to transact with the barbarian merchants from the north and east.”
Lenora thought with some amusement that fabled Miklagard, even with its strong walls, was no safer than the northlands Eirena so scathingly called barbaric.
She saw little of Erik, and never alone. He seemed to be out a great deal on what Eirena vaguely described as “business,” and when he was present Eirena monopolized the conversation.
Lenora did learn from the servants that Erik had been ordered to present himself to the Bureau of Barbarians. When she expressed concern about this, Eirena only smiled and shook her head.
“You don’t understand at all,” she said, as though Lenora were a foolish child. “Our government needs to know everything it can learn about the barbarians who surround us. How else can we deal with them? They come in great numbers to our city, and the police must know what to expect of them, how to control them. Some day we may even convert them to Christianity. How marvelous that would be.”
Regardless of Eirena’s complacency, Lenora remained concerned until Erik had safely returned from his interview.
“There was nothing to worry about,” he told her. “They only wanted to know about trade in Kiev. Once I had mentioned Basil’s name, they treated me very well.”
“You see,” Eirena said with a smile that plainly indicated just how silly she thought Lenora was, “I told you so earlier. You don’t understand us, Lenora. We are different from you northerners.”
“I want to see the city,” Lenora declared one afternoon when she and Maura sat in the courtyard with Eirena. “I have come so far and heard so much about Miklagard, and I have scarcely seen anything at all.”
Eirena was scandalized. “No virtuous woman would show her face to a stranger,” she said piously.
