“My physician,” Helena said, waving an arm at Anna after she had greeted her guest. “Anastasius.” She gave a slight smile, infinitely condescending. She was saying the name so Eulogia would recognize Anna instantly as a eunuch, a womanish creature with a man’s name and no gender at all.
Eulogia stared at Anna for a moment, then looked away, entering conversation with Helena as if Anna had been a servant.
In that instant, Anna recognized her. Eulogia was Catalina’s sister. They had met several times in Nicea years ago, when Catalina was alive. No wonder Eulogia had been disturbed by memory at first.
The sweat broke out on Anna’s skin, and her breath was shaky, her hands trembling. She must watch every gesture. Nothing must remind Eulogia of Justinian’s sister.
She had not finished prescribing for Helena, who would be angry if she left. She was imprisoned here by obligation and circumstance.
Helena sensed her discomfort and smiled. She turned to Eulogia. “Have some wine, and figs. These are very good, very quickly dried to produce excellent humors. It’s kind of you to call.”
She ordered the servant to bring refreshments, including a glass for Anna. It seemed to amuse her.
Anna considered refusing. Eulogia was watching her, the puzzled look in her face again. Anna dared not let Helena believe she was afraid of staying. “Thank you,” she accepted, smiling back. “I’ll have time to prepare your… herbs.”
“Ointment!” Helena snapped, then blushed, aware she might have made a mistake. “I have a sprain,” she said to Eulogia.
Eulogia nodded and offered her sympathy. They moved to sit together, leaving Anna to look in her bag for the appropriate items.
“How is Demetrios?” Eulogia inquired.
“Well, I imagine,” Helena said casually. The wine, figs, and nuts came. She poured, leaving aside a glass for Anna but not offering it.
“I imagine Justinian will not be returning,” Eulogia remarked, looking obliquely at Helena.
Helena allowed herself to look sad. “No. They believe he was deeply implicated in Bessarion’s death. Of course he wasn’t!” She smiled. “Whoever it was tried before, you know, when Justinian was in Bithynia, miles from here.”
Anna’s hand froze over the herbs. Fortunately her back was to the room, and neither Helena nor Eulogia could see her face.
“Tried to kill him?” Eulogia said in amazement. “How?”
“Poison,” Helena said simply. “I’ve no idea who it was.” She took a bite out of a dried fig and chewed it slowly. “And Bessarion was attacked in the street a few months after that, also. It looked like an attempted robbery, but afterward Bessarion himself thought it was one of his own men. But Demetrios found them for him, from friends of his-the Varangian Guard, so it seems unlikely.”
Eulogia was curious. “Demetrios Vatatzes has friends in the Varangian Guard? How interesting. Unusual, for a man of an old imperial family. But then his mother, Eirene, is unusual.”
Helena shrugged it off. “That’s what I thought he said. Perhaps I was wrong.”
Eulogia was concerned. “That’s dreadful. Why would anyone wish to harm Bessarion? He was the noblest of men.”
Helena hid her impatience. “It was always religion with him, so it was probably something to do with that. Of course, he and Justinian quarreled terribly about it, twice that I know of, and then Justinian went to Eirene. Heaven knows why! After that, of course, Bessarion really was killed by Antoninus. Funny thing is that I never knew that Antoninus cared about religion all that much. He was a soldier, for heaven’s sake!”
Anna turned around, the herbs in her hand and a small jar of ointment. She held them out.
“Why, thank you, Anastasius,” Helena said charmingly, meeting Anna’s eyes. “I’ll pay you if you come tomorrow, when I’m not busy.”
Anna returned as commanded to collect the money.
When she arrived, Helena received her after only fifteen minutes’ wait and made her almost welcome. They were in the newly decorated room with its exotic murals. She was dressed in a soft deep plum color that became her excellently. She had a minimum of jewelry, but with her warm skin and rich hair, she did not need it. The silk of her dalmatica billowed around her as she came across the room. It was one of the rare moments when Helena was as beautiful as her mother.
“Thank you for coming,” she said warmly. “My ankle is so much better, I shall recommend you to everyone I know.” She smiled, but she made no reference to the money.
“Thank you,” Anna replied, taken by surprise.
“Odd that Eulogia should call just as you were here,” Helena went on. “She was related to Justinian Lascaris, you know?”
Anna felt herself tense. “Was she?”
“He was married, some time ago.” Helena’s tone dismissed it as if it were not relevant anymore. “She died. She was Eulogia’s sister.” She was watching Anna’s face as she spoke.
Anna stood motionless, awkward. Her hands seemed clumsy and in the way, as if she had no idea what to do with them. She swallowed. “Really?” She tried to sound uninterested. She was trembling.
Helena picked up a small jeweled box from the table. It was exquisite, silver set with chalcedony and surrounded by pearls. Anna could not help looking at it.
“You like it?” Helena held it out for Anna to see.
“It’s very beautiful,” Anna replied sincerely.
Helena smiled. “Justinian gave it to me. Unwise, I suppose, but as I told you, he loved me.” She said it with satisfaction, but still looking at Anna under her eyelashes. “Bessarion gave me very little that I can recall. If he had chosen anything, it would have been books, or icons; dark ones, of course, heavy and very serious.” She looked back at Anna. “Justinian was fun, you know? Or don’t you know that? He had an elusive quality about him, as if you could never really know all of him. He would always surprise you. I like that.”
Anna’s sense of discomfort grew. Why was Helena telling her all this? Surely it was lies, as Constantine had said? Helena was beautiful and profoundly sensuous, but Justinian must have seen what was ugly inside her, if not immediately, then soon after. Helena turned the box in her hand, its pearls catching the light. Why had Justinian spent so much on her? Or was that a lie, too?
Helena was watching her. There was an intensity in her gaze that was almost mesmeric. The light was shining on the box, on the plum silk of her dalmatica, on the gloss of her hair. “Do you like beautiful things, Anastasius?” she asked.
There was only one possible answer to that. “Yes.”
Helena’s winged eyebrows rose, her eyes wide and dark. “Just ‘yes’? How unimaginative of you. What kinds of beautiful things?” she insisted. “Jewelry, ornaments, glass, paintings, tapestries, statuary? Or do you like music, and good food? Or something you can touch, like silk or fur? What gives you pleasure, Anastasius?” She put the box on the table and walked three steps closer to Anna. “Do eunuchs have pleasure?” she said softly.
Was this what had happened to Justinian? Anna felt the sweat run down her body and the blood hot in her face. Helena was trying to awaken her sexually for entertainment, power, simply to see if she could.
The air in the room prickled as if a storm were about to break. Anna would have given anything on earth to escape. It was excruciating.
Helena’s eyes swept down Anna’s body. “Do you have anything left, Anastasius?” she asked, her voice soft not with pity, but with a sharp and curiously coarse interest. Her small hand reached out to touch Anna’s groin where her male organs would have been, had she had them. They met nothing.