“You’ve already set up an audience with Theodora?” demanded Belisarius, gaping.
Irene smiled. “Yes. I’d like to claim it’s due to my talents as an intriguer, but the truth is that Antonina was the key. I’d always heard Theodora considered Antonina her best friend, but I hadn’t really believed it until now.”
The smile vanished, replaced by a frown.
“We have to go immediately, but — ”
“He can’t go in full armor!” protested Antonina.
“I’ll be dressed in a moment,” said Belisarius. He clattered into the mansion.
“Watch out for the rugs!” roared Sittas.
“Please,” muttered Irene. “Make sure you gouge up as many as possible.” She smiled sweetly at Sittas.
“What happened to you, anyway?”
“Yes, Sittas,” added Antonina, smiling just as sweetly. “We’re curious. Did you run into a wall?”
“Looks more like he ran into a cathedral,” mused Irene. “You see that one great bruise? There-on his-”
“He cheated!”
“Stop worrying, Antonina. Of course I’ll support Belisarius in this elaborate scheme of yours.”
The Empress stared out the window of her reception room. The view was magnificent, the more so since the Empress could well afford the finest glass. The panes of glass in her windows had not a trace of the discolorations and distortions which most glass contained.
Theodora never tired of the view from the Gynaeceum, the women’s quarters of the Great Palace. It was not so much the scenery beyond-though the sight of the great city was magnificent-as it was the constant reminder of her own power. Within the women’s quarters, the Empress was supreme. That had been Byzantine custom even before she mounted the throne, and it was a custom into which Theodora had thrust the full force of her personality.
Here, Theodora ruled unchallenged. She was the sole mistress not only of her own chambers but of the public offices as well. And it was here, in the Gynaeceum, that the silk goods, which were a royal monopoly, were woven. Those silk goods were one of the major sources of imperial wealth.
Without Theodora’s permission, not even the Emperor could enter the Gynaeceum. And it was a permission which Theodora never gave him. She had too much to hide. Not lovers, of course. Theodora knew that were she to entertain lovers, word would get to Justinian. But the temptation never arose, in any event. Theodora had no interest in men, except Justinian.
No, not lovers; but there were other things to hide. Religious leaders, mostly. Monophysite heretics seeking refuge from the persecution that was developing again could find sanctuary in the secret rooms of the Gynaeceum.
Theodora scowled. For all that he was personally tolerant, and knew his own Empress to be a Monophysite, Justinian was seeking closer ties with the See of Rome. He hoped, Theodora knew, to gain orthodox approval for his projected reconquest of the western Empire. That approval came with a price- eradicate heresy.
It was a price which Theodora, for reasons of state even more than personal preference, thought far too costly for the prospective gain. The real strength of the Empire was in the Monophysite east-in Syria and Palestine and, especially, in Egypt. Why enfeeble the Empire’s hold over those great provinces in order to gain the approval of a miserable pope squatting in Italy, surrounded by semibarbarian Goths? Who were Arian heretics themselves. No, it She shook her head, driving away the thoughts. Later. For now, there was this other matter.
She turned away from the window and smiled at Antonina. Then she smiled at Belisarius. The first smile was heartfelt. The second was-not. Or, at least, not very.
Briefly, the Empress examined her feelings in that cold and dispassionate way that was one of her great strengths. In truth, she liked Belisarius. It was just that she found it impossible to trust any man. She did not even trust Justinian, for all that she genuinely loved him. But-as men went, Belisarius was not bad. He had been good to Antonina, after all. And Theodora thought, approvingly, that his wife had the general well under her thumb. Whether or not Belisarius could be trusted, she trusted Antonina.
The Empress resumed her seat upon the throne which sat in a corner. The throne fit awkwardly in the confines of the private reception room. True, the room itself was luxurious. The floors were covered with exquisite Armenian rugs, the walls with even more exquisite mosaics and tapestries. Still, it was much too small a room to manage the bulk of a throne properly.
Yet even here, in the privacy of her own quarters, Theodora insisted on a throne. A relatively modest throne, to be sure, nothing like the monstrosity upon which she sat in the great reception hall of the palace. But it was a throne nonetheless.
It was one of her own foibles, she knew. The throne was not as comfortable as a normal chair would have been, but-she remembered the years of poverty and powerlessness. The years when she obeyed men, rather than the other way around. And so, everywhere she planted her very attractive imperial rump, she insisted on a throne.
“I just don’t like to have my intelligence insulted,” she growled. The Empress straightened. As tall as she was, sitting high up on a throne, the pose made her loom over her audience. Exactly as she intended.
“It’s perfectly obvious that you’re looking for an excuse to get away from Justinian’s insanely jealous eye, Belisarius.”
Seeing the slight look of startlement on the general’s face, Theodora laughed.
“You think it strange that I understand my husband’s peculiarities?”
Belisarius examined the Empress. She was a beautiful woman, very shapely in a slender sort of way. An Egyptian like Antonina, she shared his wife’s dark complexion. But where Antonina’s green eyes were a startlement in her dusky face, the Empress’ eyes were so deep a brown as to be almost black. Her hair also was black, as little of it as could be seen in the jewel-encrusted coiffure.
He decided that honesty was probably the best course, under the circumstances. He did not know Theodora well, but he did not mistake the cold intelligence in those dark eyes.
“I am not surprised that you understand the Emperor’s-characteristics. I am simply a bit puzzled that you understand him so well and-” He faltered. This was perhaps pushing honesty a bit far.
The Empress concluded for him.
“And still love him?”
Belisarius nodded. “Yes.” He took a deep breath. Hell with it. The general knew from experience that it was unwise to change strategy in midbattle. “And are quite devoted to him. Even a man as removed as I am from the imperial court can tell that much.”
The Empress chuckled. “I suggest you don’t try to understand it. I don’t myself, not entirely, and I suspect I’m much better than you at understanding such things. But the fact is, I do love Justinian, and I am quite devoted to him. Do not ever doubt it.” She bestowed upon him a cold, deadly, imperial gaze. But only for a few seconds. Belisarius, she realized, was not one to be intimidated. Nor, she thought, was there any reason to do so.
Theodora smiled again. “One of the facts which is, and unfortunately, remains, is that my husband is prone to extreme jealousy. An imperial kind of jealousy, to boot, which is the worst variety.”
She sighed. “It would be so much better if he’d fret himself over my fidelity, like most men. There’d be nothing in it, and I could spend some pleasurable hours reassuring him of his potency. But, not Justinian. He frets only royal frets, I’m afraid. The greatest of which is being overthrown by a rival. Especially a successful general.
“In fact, the threat’s real enough. In general, at least. I just wish Justinian would stop being obsessed with the matter.”
She mused. “At the moment, the two most successful and esteemed generals of the empire are you and Sittas.” A small laugh. “Not even Justinian worries about Sittas! Outside of war, Sittas is the laziest man alive. And he can’t stand the duties of a general in Constantinople-everyone knows it. He’s been pestering Justinian for months to be reassigned to a field army, whereas an ambitious general couldn’t be pried out of the capital with a lever.”
She gave Belisarius a cold smile. “That leaves you. You alone, to be the focus of Justinian’s worries.”
Belisarius began to speak, but Theodora cut him off.
“Spare me, Belisarius. There’s no point in making reassurances. I don’t need them, and Justinian won’t believe them.”
