Bertrice Small - Adora

The old man eyed her suspiciously. “Why do you go to the coast?”

“I come from the city. My name is Zoe, and I am the daughter of Constans the blacksmith whose forge is just outside the Gate of St. Romanus. I am newly widowed, and I came to visit my sister and make a religious retreat. Now I have received word that my twin sons are ill, and I cannot wait for a proper caravan. If I may travel to the coast with you I can take the ferry and get home to my boys quickly.” Her upturned face was the correct mixture of concern and sincerity.

“Come along then, Zoe, daughter of Constans,” growled the old man. “Never let it be said that Basil the fisherman would not help a mother in distress.”

It was so easy. So incredibly easy! Old Basil and his wife insisted she stay the night with them in their cottage, for it was well past dark when they finally arrived at the coastal village. The following morning they took her to the ferry which quickly made its way across the Sea of Marmara into the harbor of Eleutherius. She felt a shiver of delight as she glimpsed again the city of her birth-the city she had not seen since she left it as the bride of Sultan Orkhan. Constantinople! The name itself evoked a thrill! She was safely home!

She didn’t even know she was smiling until a voice said, “A sane man would kill for you if you smiled at him like that, pretty girl. I don’t suppose you’ve time for a bit of wine with a sailor?”

Theadora laughed aloud, and it was a joyous sound. “Why sir,” she said in the common dialect of the city, “you turn a poor widow’s head. But alas I must hurry to my father’s house where my little sons lie ill.”

The sailor grinned back ruefully. “Another time,” he said, helping her down the gangplank and handing her her basket.

“Perhaps,” she said smiling at him again, and turned away into the crowd. While she walked she searched for something, and suddenly she found it. Placing herself in front of an imperial soldier, she said, “I am the empress’ sister, Princess Theadora, just escaped from Bursa. Arrange an escort for me and take me to the emperor-at once!”

The soldier looked down at the dark-faced peasant woman and raised his hand to shove her away.

“Touch me and you die! Fool! How many peasants speak the tongue of the city’s upper class? Take me to the emperor or I’ll have the skin stripped from your body and fed to the dogs!”

The soldier shrugged. Let his superior handle the madwoman, he thought. He gestured for Theadora to follow him, and led her to a nearby guardhouse. As he entered, he called to his captain, “Here’s a crazy woman for you. She claims to be the Empress Helena’s sister, Captain Demetrius.”

“I am Princess Theadora, Captain Demetrius. If you will have someone bring me a basin of warm water, please, I will prove it to you.”

The captain, an older man, was intrigued by the sunburned peasant who spoke the elegant Greek of the city’s upper class and who carried herself so proudly. “Get water,” he commanded, and when it was brought Theadora washed the stain from her face and hands. “As you can now see, captain, I am not a peasant,” she said holding out her smooth, white hands to him. She next reached into the bundle she carried and drew out a beautifully jeweled crucifix. “It is engraved on the back. Can you read?”

“Yes,” the captain said taking the pendant from her.

“My father gave it to me an the occasion of my marriage to Sultan Orkhan.”

“To my daughter, Theadora, from her father,” read the captain. “It’s interesting, but it doesn’t prove you are the princess, lady.”

“Nevertheless,” replied Theadora, “it should be enough for you to take me to the emperor. Or perhaps peasant women come to you every day, wash stain from their bodies, hand you valuable jewels, and demand to see the emperor.”

The captain laughed. “You certainly reason like old John Cantacuzene,” he said. “Very well, I’ll take you to the palace, but I will have to have you searched before we leave. What if you were an assassin?” Catching Theadora’s look of outrage, he quickly added, “My woman will do it, lady.”

She was taken into a small room and joined by a pretty girl who said, “Demetrius says you must strip completely so that I can be sure you conceal no weapons.” Theadora obeyed, and when the girl had satisfied herself, she returned the garments to the princess. While Theadora dressed, the girl poked through the few items in her basket. They then rejoined the captain.

“No weapons, Demetrius,” said the girl, “and do you know what? She has no hair on her body! Isn’t that funny?”

The captain looked at Theadora and said quietly, “Welcome home, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, captain,” Theadora replied as quietly. “May we go now?”

“Of course, Highness. I regret, however, that I shall have to take you up before me on my saddle. There is no litter available.”

“I have not been on a horse since I was a child,” said Theadora as they left the guardhouse.

The soldier who had brought Theadora to the captain looked at the captain’s woman and said, “He called her ‘Your Highness’. What convinced him that she speaks the truth?”

The girl laughed. “Only highborn women pluck the mound of Venus free of hair, silly, and only the Turk’s women are completely free of body hair. It was that plus her language and the pendant that probably convinced him.”

Captain Demetrius lifted Theadora up in front of him on his saddle, and they rode across the city to the Blanchernae Palace where the imperial family now resided. Theadora noted that though the city was filled with people, many of them seemed to have nothing better to do than wander about the streets. She also noted that more shops were shuttered than were open. She sighed. What she had told Helena but a few weeks back was true. Constantinople was a dying old man.

They rode unchallenged into the court of the Blanchernae. The captain dismounted, politely lifting his passenger down. She followed him to the captain of the watch. The two men greeted each other cordially.

“Captain Belasarius,” said Captain Demetrius, “I have the honor to present to you Princess Theadora Cantacuzene. She arrived in this extraordinary disguise just this morning.”

Captain Belasarius bowed. “You wish to be taken to your sister, Highness?”

“No. To the emperor.”

“Immediately, Highness. Please follow me.”

Theadora turned to Captain Demetrius. “Thank you,” she said simply, touching his arm. Then she followed the palace soldier. When they reached the antechamber they were told that the emperor was with the chief prelate of Constantinople, the prelate’s staff of lesser bishops, and other churchmen.

“I must see the emperor at once,” said Theadora, knowing that even now her sister would be receiving word of her arrival in the palace. “Announce me without delay!”

The majordomo shrugged. With royalty everything was imperative. He flung open the doors to the audience chamber and said in his best stentorian tone, “The princess Theadora Cantacuzene!”

Theadora hurried to the foot of her brother-in-law’s throne and, kneeling, held out her hands in a gesture of supplication. “Sanctuary, Majesty! I beg the sanctuary of your throne and that of the holy Church!”

John Paleaologi leapt to his feet. “Good God, Thea! What are you doing here?”

“Grant me sanctuary, John!”

“Yes! Yes! Of course! It is granted.” He helped her up and signaled for a chair for her. “How did you get here?”

Theadora looked about her. “Could we speak privately, John?”

The young emperor looked to the chief prelate. “Bishop Athanasius, this seems to be a rather delicate and pressing family problem. Would you and your people excuse us?”

The old bishop nodded sympathetically and retired from the room, taking his people with him.

“No one,” said the emperor firmly to the majordomo, “no one, not even the empress-especially the empress-is to enter my presence until I give you leave. If you fail me in this your own life is forfeit. Use whatever means you must, even physical means, to guard my privacy.”

The door shut behind the majordomo. Sitting back down on his throne, John Paleaologi looked down on his sister-in-law and said, “Now, Thea, tell me why you are here.”

“Orkhan is dead,” she began.

“We had heard rumors, of course,” replied the emperor, “but as yet we have no official word.”

“He died nearly a month ago. Murad was declared his heir, and is now sultan. I was forced to flee Bursa because Sultan Murad wishes me to join his household.”

“As his wife?”

“No,” she whispered, and two fat tears spilled down her cheeks. “Just as a member of his harem. John, I must be honest with you since by asking you to grant me asylum I ask you to defy your overlord.

“Before I was brought to the palace in Bursa to be Orkhan’s wife, I met Murad by accident. We met secretly in the convent orchard for many weeks. We fell in love and were confident that I should never be called to my husband’s bed. We actually planned to wed when Orkhan died.

“But then Father wanted military aid from the sultan in order to keep you and Helena at bay, and Orkhan wanted Tyzmpe as a toehold here in Europe. So the marriage contract had to be fullfilled…which meant that I had to bear my husband a child. I was removed from St. Catherine’s without any warning and brought immediately to Orkhan’s bed.

“Ever since then Murad and I have been at swords-points. He believes that I might have avoided my fate somehow and remained true to him. Of course that is not true. I was helpless. He is a fool!”

She gave a sob, and the emperor rose from his throne and put an arm about her. How she had suffered! And she had been all alone in her suffering. To him the miracle was that she had survived all this.

“Oh, John! I maintained my sanity only by keeping the love between us alive in my mind and heart. Have you any idea what hell it was for me to be a dutiful wife to Orkhan while loving his son?”

“Then why have you run from him, Thea? I am sure you must have misunderstood him. He must want you for a wife.”

“No, John, he was hurt, and he wants to hurt me now in return. I love him. I have always loved him. Why must I be forced to accept this hurt? I will not! Let me stay here for the present while I decide what to do. Even Murad will have a bit of a time tracing me as long as we are discreet.”

“It matters not if he knows you are here,” said the emperor. “I will protect you. Our walls will. Tell me, however, for I burn with curiosity…how did you get here?”

Theadora gave a watery chuckle and then told him.

The emperor laughed heartily. “What an ingenious little witch you are, little sister! A mind such as yours belongs either back in the Golden Age of Athens or somewhere in the future.”

“Perhaps I was there, and perhaps I shall incarnate again in a more enlightened age. But for now I am here, and as I must make my peace with this time, it must make its peace with me.”

John Paleaologi smiled. “I will provide you with everything you need, Thea. I am happy you came to me. First, I expect you will want to bathe. I will have the servants arrange for more suitable clothing for you, my dear.”

“Lord, yes! Bless your thoughtfulness, John.”

The emperor stood and, taking Theadora’s hand, smiled. “Let’s see if we can avoid Helena completely. You look too exhausted to cope with her now. I will handle Her Majesty, the empress.”

Alexander and Theadora
1359 to 1361

Theadora settled quietly into a large apartment in the palace. True to his word, the emperor kept his wife from her younger sister for more than a week while Theadora ate and slept, regaining her strength and her peace of mind.

Ten days after her return to the city the emperor held a banquet and she was invited. She entered the great dining hall of the Blanchernae Palace to the warm welcome of people she had not seen since her childhood and, in most cases, barely remembered. It seemed that everyone was happy to see her. She was led to the main table where the emperor and empress awaited her. Smiling, Helena kissed her younger sister on both cheeks, murmuring in her ear, “Bitch! If you have put us in danger I will kill you!” Then the empress proclaimed loudly, “Thanks be to God, dear sister, for your safe return from the infidel!”

“Thanks be to God,” came the echoing reply from all those in the hall.

Theadora was seated on her brother-in-law’s left. The Byzantine nobles in the hall were forced to agree that they had never seen such beauty as the two sisters possessed between them. This was grudgingly conceded by their wives.