Only the empress looked sour. Even now Helena did not wish her sister well. Helena could not bear to see Theadora happy and now her sister was radiant. When the uproar had died down Helena said softly to her sister, “You have surprised me this time, Thea, but beware. Next time it will be I who will surprise you.”
Chapter Fourteen
The empress of Byzantium was in a cold rage. “Have you lost what little brains you possess?” she demanded of her husband. “God have mercy on us! You are just like your father-with one difference. He, at least, had my father to run the empire.”
The emperor was barely perturbed. “As I recall, you did not like it when we had your father running our empire. You could barely wait to get him out.”
She ignored his remark. “You have opened the city to attack, you fool! If Sultan Murad wants Theadora, he’ll have her, though why he would be interested in that skinny, purple-eyed bitch is beyond me! And you, you fool, have dared to marry her to the lord of Mesembria!”
“Murad is not going to war over a woman, Helena. This is Constantinople, not Troy. Your sister has been incredibly brave and damned clever in escaping the sultan. He has no legal right to her, and I did not force her to this new marriage. She and Alexander came to me. Yes, I gave them my blessing! Thea is entitled to some happiness. God only knows she got none with Orkhan. Your father sacrificed her to that old man in order to usurp my throne. I hope she is always happy. She deserves it.”
“She endangers us by her very presence here. And what of our daughter, alone in a hostile land and at the mercy of the Turks? Have you thought of Alexis, fool?”
“Your sister will be returning with her husband to Mesembria in a few months’ time. I hardly think she constitutes a danger. As to Alexis, Sultan Murad is an honorable man, and he assures me that she is safe and well at St. Anna’s.”
Helena threw up her hands in disgust. He refused to understand. Or else, the thought lingered in her mind, he was deliberately being obtuse, wanting to annoy her. John Paleaologi was a fool and always had been. He could not see that by annoying his overlord, the sultan, he practically invited Murad to attack the city. She would lose her throne because of this stupidity.
Byzantium stood alone, a faint, continuously threatened Christian light on the edge of the dark, infidel world. The rulers of Europe gave lip service to protecting Byzantium. This was due to squabbling over religion.
In fact, in the year 1203, the Fourth Crusade, originally dispatched to retake Jerusalem from the Saracen Muslims, diverted instead to Constantinople. This diversion was engineered by the Venetians and by their vengeful doge, Enrico Dandolo, who had been blinded thirty years earlier while being held hostage in Constantinople by the Greeks.
He had been allowed the freedom of the city, having given his word that he would not try to escape.
Escape was the furthest thing from Dandolo’s mind. The son of a noble merchant family, he was far more interested in wooing to Venice the foreign trading houses that were the strength of the Byzantine Empire.
Too, Dandolo had developed an unhealthy interest in Constantinople’s defenses. When his two breaches of conduct were discovered, he was punished by having his too-inquisitive eyes exposed to a concave mirror reflecting the sun. Blind, he was returned to Venice, where he spent years overcoming his handicap and dreaming of revenge. He was ultimately elected to the highest office in Venice, a position which offered him his opportunity for vengeance.
Besides his personal motives, the elderly doge wanted the destruction of Constantinople for the economic advantages that destruction would afford his own city.
The excuse for this betrayal of a Christian city by fellow Christians was the restoration of a deposed emperor. He was Alexius IV, though the Crusader lords knew he was already dead. He had been strangled by Alexius V, who then fled the city in the face of the oncoming European army, leaving his people to their terrible fate. Constantinople found itself taken in 1204 and mercilessly pillaged by soldiers, clerics, and nobles. No infidel city ever suffered at the hands of Christian invaders as did Constantinople, the capital city of Eastern Christianity.
What was not destroyed by fire or vandalism was carted off. Gold, silver, jewels, plate, silks, furs, statuary, and people-whatever held value, and could move or be moved. The city had never recovered, and Helena was terrified lest the next invasion be the last.
Her fears were increased considerably when Sultan Murad and a small but formidable army appeared outside the city’s walls.
“In God’s name give Thea back to the sultan,” Helena begged her husband.
“Do you think Murad will go away if I do?” mocked John Paleaologi. “Christos, Helena, do not be a bigger fool than you already are! Orkhan’s last words to his sons were to take Constantinople. He has not come for Theadora, my dear, but for my city. I shall not, however, let him have it.”
Helena did not know what to do, or even where she might turn. Her sister and her new bridegroom were the darlings of the city. The story of Thea’s escape was even being sung by the street minstrels.
Suddenly, it appeared that her prayers would be answered.
Into Helena’s presence came a tall, soft-looking man who quietly introduced himself. “I am Ali Yahya, Majesty, chief of the sultan’s household. I wish to see Princess Theadora and hope that you may arrange it.”
“My sister will not see you, Ali Yahya. She has recently been remarried to the lord of Mesembria. She honeymoons even now in a dear little villa on the sea.”
“What a pity, madame.”
Helena could not resist. “Does the sultan really want my sister in his harem?”
“He wishes the princess back with her family, and those who love her,” came the evasive reply.
Helena’s blue eyes narrowed. “Possibly,” she said, “it could be arranged. But it would have to be done my way.”
“And what way is that, Majesty?”
“With my father and brother no longer concerned with a secular life, I am head of the Cantacuzene family. In this capacity I am responsible for the fate of the members of this family. I will sell my sister to Sultan Murad for ten thousand gold Venetian ducats and one hundred of the finest Eastern pearls. The pearls, must be between one and two centimeters in size. My price is firm. I will not haggle.”
“And what of Her Highness’s new husband, Majesty? Our laws forbid taking the wife of a living man.”
“For that price, Ali Yahya, I will see that my sister is quickly widowed. Her new husband has offended me. He is an insolent man who lacks respect for the empire.”
What Helena did not say was that Alexander of Mesembria had insulted her unforgiveably by refusing to lie with her when she had offered herself to him. No man had ever refused Helena. Usually they were greatly overcome by the honor. Alexander, however, had gazed down on Helena from his great height and said coldly, “I choose my own whores, madame. They do not choose me.” Then he had walked away.
The eunuch suspected something of this sort and pitied both Theadora and her husband. Then he shrugged. It was not his place to feel anything. His first obligation was to his master, Sultan Murad, and his master had sent him for Theadora. Under these new circumstances, however, Ali Yahya was not sure if Murad would want her back. He would have to play for time until he could ascertain the sultan’s will.
“You will, of course, provide us with proper legal papers to verify such a sale,” he said smoothly.
“Naturally,” replied Helena calmly, “and I will make it possible for you to transport her quickly from the city before my husband discovers her gone.”
“Although I am empowered by the sultan to make whatever arrangements are necessary to assure the princess’s return, this is an unusual situation, majesty. I must speak with my master.”