then begun the tedious and tiring inquiry – a delicate investigation which necessitated shrewdness, tact, and a finely honed sense of diplomacy – particular skills which Cait possessed in fair measure, when she cared to use them.
It was late when they left the Magnaura Palace precinct where Cait had at last been able to tease out the information she required. They had stopped to buy a little fruit and bread and cheese at a market they happened by, and then continued on their way to the Blachernae Palace where the members of the royal wedding entourage were staying as guests of Emperor Manuel Comnenus.
Now, as evening descended around them, Cait settled back in the chair, and allowed herself to think about what lay ahead. She closed her eyes and rehearsed the decisive moment in her mind, trying to imagine it down to the smallest detail so that she should not be taken by surprise.
They were closer to the palace than they knew, and soon Philippianous halted the chair and pointed to an enormous square structure in brick and stone rising from behind a stout wall. 'The palace, my lady,' he said, as if he were the proud owner.
Caitriona observed the flat, undistinguished facade, with its alternating colours of brickwork, and its high- peaked roof shingled with red tile, and decided that it looked more like the Earl's great house in Orkney than the favourite residence of the Holy Roman Empire's exalted ruler.
'This is the palace?' wondered Alethea aloud. Like Cait, she had imagined something far more grand and imposing.
'Indeed, yes,' Philippianous assured them. 'The Palace of Blachernae is renowned. People come from all over the world to see it.'
There were four soldiers standing in the street before a gate wide enough and high enough to allow the royal carriages of kings and princes to pass through with ease. 'Be so kind as to announce us/ Cait instructed.
It would be a pleasure, my lady/ replied their expansive guide.
'Say that Ladies Deborah and Constance de Payens have arrived for their audience with Commander de Bracineaux.'
At this, Alethea, who had been daydreaming about the rich pearl-studded gowns the empress reputedly wore, sat up sharply. Her Greek was not as good as her sister's, but she understood this last without any difficulty. 'What are you saying?' she demanded. Those are not our names.'
'Quiet, Thea,' snapped Cait. 'Do as you are told.'
Philippianous' smiling features arranged themselves into a knowing smirk. He opened his mouth, but Cait cut him off before he could comment. 'Announce us/ she commanded.
Cait turned on her sister. 'Now listen, Thea,' she warned. 'Keep your mouth shut, and do what I tell you, or I will leave you here by yourself. Understand?'
'I still cannot see why we have to -'
'1 mean it!' Cait raised a threatening finger.
Alethea nodded sourly.
'Good. I will explain everything later.'
Philippianous had made their names known to the porter, a hulking drone who waved the chair and its occupants through the gate-eyeing the nubile younger woman lustfully as the two passed. Inside the palace grounds, they proceeded at once to the courtyard and the palace entrance where they were halted by guards, and where, once again, the doors were opened without further question when the commander's name was given.
'Be so kind as to wait here,' Cait told the bearers. 'God willing, we may not be long. If you are ready to depart the moment we return I will double your fee,'
'Most gracious lady,' replied Philippianous grandly, 'we will await your appearance with confident expectation.' He led them to the massive copper-gilded iron doors, where they were escorted into the palace without delay.
Once inside, they were met by an ageing courtier who demanded to know their business. 'We are invited to an audience with Commander de Bracineaux,' Caitriona replied crisply.
The courtier cocked his head to one side and gave the two young women a long, dubious glance. 'Even so?'
'The invitation was issued by the Master himself.' Cait leaned forward and placed her hand on the man's arm, putting her mouth close to his ear. 'He said to tell anyone who asked that we are -she paused precisely long enough to leave no doubt in the courtier's mind that it was a lie, and then added, 'his nieces.'
The elderly courtier pulled away as if burned by her touch. He drew himself up to speak, and Cait thought he might refuse them then and there. Instead, he merely turned on his heel and led them across the entrance hall to a long flight of wooden stairs. Without a word, he indicated that they were to ascend. Cait thanked the servant and, taking the dumbstruck Alethea's hand, proceeded up the stairs without looking back.
They emerged on the next floor and stepped into a large, wood-panelled vestibule connecting three long corridors lined with doors. Two yawning servants leaning against a gilded column regarded the newcomers lazily, but made no move to help them. Cait presented herself and asked in which of the apartments the Templar de Bracineaux might be found. The chamberlain raised a hand, indicated the central corridor, and said, 'Sixth door.'
Thea close behind, Cait proceeded down the corridor, drawing a deep breath to calm herself. It was going better than she had hoped, but an instant's carelessness would ruin everything. They passed several doors, and heard coarse singing emanating from behind one of them; from behind another came a loud crash followed by raucous laughter and stamping feet.
So, the local gossip is true, she thought. The Franks sleep when they should work, eat when they should sleep, and roister when they should pray. They rarely wash, talk too loud, blow their noses on their clothing, and rut like pigs.
As they approached the sixth door, Alethea squeezed Cait's hand. 'Someone is coming!' she whispered.
Caitriona looked quickly down to the far end of the corridor where a figure had just appeared in the passageway. As the figure approached she saw the tray of cups in her hand. 'It is just a serving girl/
She waited until the girl drew near and paused at the sixth door, whereupon Cait approached her quickly and asked whether the cups and jar were bound for the commander's chamber. 'Indeed, my lady,' replied the girl.
'Leave it with me,' said Cait, taking the tray from her. 'We were just about to join him. You may go.'
The girl looked at the two women, and then surrendered to their unarguably superior rank. She delivered the tray with a tight bow, and retreated quickly the way she had come. As soon as the girl was gone, Cait laid the tray on the floor; she quickly shrugged off her costly mantle and handed it to her sister; next, she removed the dagger from its sheath at her side and tucked it into her girdle at the back so that it would be out of sight, yet ready to hand.
'What are you doing?' asked Alethea, eyeing the dagger,
'I told you. I have to talk to someone.' Cait picked up the tray. 'Stay here and keep watch. Knock on the door if anyone should come.'
Alethea made to protest, but Cait's raised eyebrow persuaded her to hold her tongue. Glancing nervously both ways along the corridor, she said, 'Hurry, then.'
Balancing the tray with one hand, Cait reached for the latch and, taking a deep steadying breath to calm her pounding heart, pushed the door open and stepped quickly inside.
CHAPTER FOUR
The room was large and dark, and opened on to a smaller inner chamber which in turned opened on to a balcony overlooking a garden court. The double doors separating the rooms were thrown wide, and two men were sitting at a small round table on the balcony, enjoying the soft evening air. Even by fitful torchlight, she recognized the broad shoulders and untidy mane of white hair belonging to Renaud de Bracineaux. With a glance at Alethea, who made a last anxious plea to hurry, Cait closed the door behind her and stepped inside.
At the sound of the door closing, Commander de Bracineaux called, 'Here, girl.'
