Chapter 68 -
The Empress of Hens
When Pons awoke he was all wrinkled and pruney. Hours must have passed. The baths were empty save for a few old men who kept odd hours. I am an old man myself, keeping odd hours. He dried himself off and dressed in the clothing he had brought. His shoulder felt better.
A steady north wind blew as he made his way through the streets, wet from the rain which had abated. At the gates, he was told that the brothers Angelos had returned and sent the Emperor’s sons back. No word on what was discussed. There was to be a general muster at first light.
This only increased Pons concern. Either there was to be an attack at first light or a surrender. It wanted an hour of dawn. He returned to the barrack. Cyn needed to be ready to move, but he was not in the bunk they shared. Someone else was.
* * *
It had been a day of high drama for Lady Euphrosune Katamontissa, widow of the late Admiral Angelos. As the sun’s chariot crossed the sky every human emotion had flowed over her, into her, and through her.
Eos “the Dawn” had brought Phobos “Fear.” She had been awash in dread since she was arrested at the family villa north of Constantinople earlier in the week and taken - not to court, not to a nunnery, not even to the Anemas dungeon; but to a siege camp several days uncomfortable travel east of the Bosphorus crossing. Until that day her life had been filled with more customary family dramas. The quietly placid pageant of births, weddings, deaths, small scandals, infidelities, and the like. Those calm days were over.
Lady Euphrosune came from a family, not Imperial, but of the bluest blood. In her youth she had been chief lady in waiting for Emperor Manuel’s frigid, foreign, first wife Irene. The Patriarch of Constantinople, Kosmas the second, had cursed the Empress's womb when he was convicted and deposed for heresy. Therefore Manuel would have no male heir. Empress Irene was unable to carry a child to term after the difficult birth of her second girl, Anna (who died young of the winter cough). The Empress became increasingly irritated and jealous as her first handmaid was forced to step back from her duties to tend to her pregnancies which came along regularly, even as she herself remained barren. That Lady Euphrosune produced sons followed by daughters only increased the Empress’s envy.
Sadly Lady Euphrosune’s arranged marriage had not been to the eminent statesman, bureaucrat, and agriculturist John Ducas, but rather his inept younger brother. Undaunted by the dolt she was saddled with, she used her influence and charm to pull enough strings, whisper into enough ears, and cross enough palms with silver to have Emperor Manuel ennoble her husband, despite his having done nothing of note. This meant that he no longer used the cognomen Ducas, but revived an older family name - Angelos; thus beginning his own noble house and lineage separate from his elder brother’s.
The Empress' first maid was pretty, popular, and witty. Lady Euphrosune was the grand matron of the Byzantine court that Empress Irene could not be, and which none of the Emperor’s string of mistresses dared to be. Everyone who was anyone stopped in to visit her as they were traveling in and out of the city to catch up on the latest gossip. Emperor Manuel, cock of the walk, ruled the world of men, but Lady Euphrosune ruled the ladies court.
This situation lasted even after Empress Irene took ill and died. Pious bitch. God rest her soul. In later years Lady Euphrosune would have cause to be grateful to this devotion to holy vows until death - in Emperor’s Manuel’s own marriage. It would be held up as a shining example in Lady Euphrosune’s defense when her husband attempted to divorce her in favor of a younger mistress. Ungrateful idiot. After all she had done for him.
Emperor Manuel still longed for an heir. Immediately after the required mourning period (and dowry negotiations) he remarried. Another foreign princess was sent for - this time to the constantly vacillating vassal state of Antioch. Beautiful, blonde (from her Norman lineage) Maria (a name that would not need to be changed) took Irene’s place as Empress and as Xene - the noble but friendless foreigner. Lady Euphrosune continued to hold sway with the women’s court for seven more years until the Empress was finally able to bear a live son. Even then she was able to maintain position as chief broody hen with a foot in each nest, insinuating herself as a confidant with Maria of Antioch, while roosting as godmother to Maria Prophorygenita.
When Manuel fell ill and died, the Maria’s pecked at one another. Maria Prophorygenita sent a letter to her father’s cousin. A new rooster, indeed a cockatrice, arrived. The entire chicken coop collapsed.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
After Phobos came the emotions of shame and humiliation. She was dragged out of the tent allotted to her tent and stripped naked accompanied by the lewd jests and howls of the soldiers. They forced her to lie on a wet hide attached to a frame. Ropes dragged her limbs spread eagled.
Horror. Her mind ran wild. Was she to be raped by the legions? Drawn and quartered? When the frame was hoisted to the top of a battering ram she was almost relieved. Almost. That emotion would come later.
Next - indignation. How dare Andronikos? How could God above permit such atrocious abuse? This sense of pique was in turn replaced by pain - in her wrists and back - as the ram, pulled by a team of oxen, bumped along the path near the camp leading to the gates of Nicea.
The pain was ignored and replaced by panic - as one of the oxen was struck by something, kicked and bucked, and almost overturned the ram. When it was moving forward again - pushed by men now, she looked up at the blue sky. Clouds to the north. A bird crossed her vision. Was God watching her watching him? Arrows hissed as they crossed her vision. Men screamed as they were struck.
Hopelessness. Despair. So many emotions. She tried to remember her prayers of contrition but the words came out as little more than wails, sobs, and moans as her spine jolted along the rutted road. Please Holy Virgin. She begged Almighty God for help.
And then, as the soldiers readied the ram to strike the gate, He was there, falling from on high. Sword striking down her oppressors. Not as handsome as the seraphim carved in statues - God’s angry angel, fury in his face, switched to an axe and lay about his foes. Alive, virile, and powerful. For an instant she thought he was going to chop her hand off, but the axe blade missed severing the ropes that bound her.
Relief. Amazement. Gratitude. She could barely remember falling into his arms and onto the ground. A cloak from out of nowhere to cover herself. It was all a blur. Horsemen rushed out of the city followed by her sons, Alexios and Issacos. Out of her senses she wept and berated her boys as she held them, though she could not have said why. They wept along with her. And the agent of the Lord waked forward to face Andronikos and his army alone. Who was he?
She was given over to the care of the wife of the exarch of Nicea, but refused to be confined to the governor’s house. While her sons supped with the demon who had abused her she seethed and paced the walls awaiting their return. Impatient. She would not be called down by the Exarch’s wife and servants and bade them retire for the night. Lady Euphrosune, no matter the distress she had suffered, was able to command the provincial poultry. A retainer with a lantern was left with her to see to her safety.
Bored. She asked after the welfare of Jehova’s guardian soldier, but he, a mercenary from the west, was not to be found. He deserved a purse of coin, but she had nothing but the borrowed clothes from the magistrates wife.
When her sons returned she badgered them until they revealed the terms of their surrender and the details of the treachery to be meted out to their foreign allies. Contempt. Her sons would have him suffer the most horrible of deaths as repayment for his heroism. Futility and disappointment.
Urgency. Where was her champion to be found? She almost took the servant with the lantern by the ear as she began her search. She had no coin for a gratia, but she could save his life just as he had saved hers. There was another emotion. Thrilled? Excited? Determinated? She felt flushed.
* * *
The horn and drums announcing the call to assemble had just begun to sound as Cyn, dripping, panting, and gasping for breath, opened the door to the barracks room he and Pons were permitted to share as officers.
Pons was not alone. He had found a doxie, and was enjoying having the room all to himself. Pons had a tunic on and was lacing on his breeches.
“Good. You are here just in time. We have to go. What happened to you? You are caked head to foot in mud? How is it you are garbed?”
“No time to explain.” Cyn puffed. “We cannot attend the assembly.”
“Si. Verra. We are betrayed. We will be impaled outside the gates if we do.”
“She said ‘executed.’ She did not say ‘impaled.’”
“Ahh your dancing girl. I should have guessed your location.”
“How do you know?”
Pons put on his boots and motioned for Cyn to grab his belongings. He kissed the woman in his bed on her shoulder. “You understand that I must leave, Bella Domina. Know that I am forever grateful for your warning.”
The woman, not a doxie, stately and dignified looking, took his hand and kissed it. “No Serrah, I would have died today had it not been for you. I am forever grateful.”
“You had a difficult day. We will return to the city but must remain hidden. Our quarry will return as well. If some street urchins should bring flowers to your domus, know that I am thinking of you.” With so many missiles flying around the gates of Nicea, had Aphrodite’s sweet son been firing barbs into the fray as well? A final emotion. The one that would make such a day understandable.
Caked mud flaked off Cyn as they made their way out of the barracks and turned right - away from the horns and drums on their left.
“You are a sight. You need a bath. No time. Too bad. I had a bath. Nice long bath. Did you sleep? No time. Too bad. I had a nice long sleep. Did you get laid? No? Too bad. I did. Nice long ride.”
Along the shore of the lake Pons righted an upside down rowboat. “At least you will have plenty of energy. You will man the oars. A long way. I have a sore shoulder. Do not run off again in the night without telling me.”