The Purple Shroud: A Novel of Empress Theodora (30 page)

‘Ana was a bastard. It doesn’t matter how well she raises Anastasius, it will always come back to that. As for not knowing what Sophia will become, I remember what I knew at eight, and what you knew. I remember how much else I wanted. Of course you’re mourning Sittas, but you’ve always been ambitious for yourself. Why deny your daughter’s hopes in your grief?’

‘Spending more time with her would not be denying her hopes, it would be denying yours.’

‘Really?’ Theodora’s tone was cold. ‘Go on.’

Comito stared at her sister, and then nodded, the permission to speak giving her a chance to finally say it all.

‘You left us,’ she said. ‘Anastasia had only just died, Hypatia was sick with grief and you left us for Hecebolus, desperate for your own advance, leaving me with your own daughter. You’ve always been cold to Ana, you showed almost no interest in Hypatia, barely cried at her death. You’re so proud with what you have achieved for the women over in Metanoia, for this great new church that you – and the architect – have made between you, and you say it’s for everyone else. For the women, the Church, for Rome. But I know you, Theodora, I know it’s as much for you. You’ve always done what you want and you’re choosing to do the same now. All I ask for is
my child in my own home now that her father is dead. I have nothing else.’

Theodora waited before she replied. She did not want to shout as her sister had just done, nor did she want to throw the power of her position behind her words, though she was sorely tempted to, and she knew Comito must be afraid of that. She smoothed her gown, drank a mouthful of the pomegranate juice Armeneus insisted was good for her aching knees and back. She looked through the window to the water. Eventually she was able to speak.

‘I have been a bad mother. I know that. And yes, I left you, with Hypatia and Ana and Indaro to care for. But I paid for those sins, and I still pay. Every time I see you laughing with Indaro or Ana about some thing the three of you did when they were little girls, I pay. There are whole days when the absurdity of my life as Empress strikes me so forcefully I can barely contain my laughter. Or my tears. But I am here, in this role, and I’ve chosen to embrace my role as Justinian’s consort. And I am sorry that your husband has died. I was delighted to help find you a good partner, delighted he was a good man.’

She went to her sister, who was sobbing now, and they sat together.

Theodora held Comito close. ‘You saved me so many times when we were girls, took care of me when you couldn’t save me. We’ve grown apart recently and I regret it. It’s also true that I have bigger things to think about. I care about the religious question, deeply, I wish you did. I want to make a difference for those women who could have been either of us. And I want to make a difference for Sophia. So please, take her with you today. But I won’t give her up to an ordinary life, nor do I believe it is in her interest – or the state’s – to do so. Perhaps we should move you back into the Palace. You
were happy enough here before your marriage – maybe you could be again? Then there’ll be no question of Sophia going home, she’ll always be here. What do you think?’

Comito was calm now, and she nodded, knowing that Theodora’s suggestion was a demand, not an offer, that it made sense to move back, especially now she was widowed, even if she did find the Palace more of a cage than a home.

Theodora gestured for Mariam to bring wine for her sister, and a maid was sent to fetch water and a cloth. She bathed Comito’s eyes herself, poured her a drink, and when they were both quiet she walked her to the door.

They kissed and Theodora whispered to her sister, ‘And please, don’t ever speak to me like that again in public, it does neither of us any good.’

Her words were soft, but the tone showed they were meant and Comito bowed to her Empress before she left.

That same tone was used far more aggressively the following week when Armeneus came to her rooms. He had an odd smile on his face and Theodora was in no mood for games. She had been with Justinian earlier when he’d received terrible news; Khusro, the Persian king and co-signatory to the Endless Peace, had renewed fighting in the east. Khusro’s men had invaded Antioch, evacuating its citizens and massacring any who fought back, removing the rest of the population to a new city near Dara, a near-copy of Antioch. It was a wholesale attack on a people and a place where Theodora had once been happy and in love.

‘Khusro has broken the peace. He’s attacked Antioch, a city I love dearly, as you well know. So if you have no good news, Armeneus, please leave me alone.’

‘There is a visitor at the Chalke Gate, a young woman.’

‘Give her to the deaconess who takes the girls to Metanoia.’

‘That’s not why she’s here.’

Theodora rubbed her face. ‘I’ve told them before, there’s nothing I can do for the prostitutes who want to keep working: the Church condemns it, the state condemns it. I can give them penitent sanctuary or nothing. Find a way to get rid of her.’

‘Mistress, she’s not a whore. At least, not yet. It’s Chrysomallo’s daughter.’

‘Chrysomallo and Hecebolus’ daughter?’

‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘And she asked to see me?’

‘She did.’

Theodora realised she’d been holding her breath and slowly breathed out, shaking her head. ‘She has courage.’

‘Or innocence, Mistress. Apparently she and her mother have been living in Cappadocia since Hecebolus kicked them out.’

‘So why is she here?’

‘Chrysomallo died.’

Theodora frowned but that was all. There had been a time when she’d wished all kinds of pain on Chrysomallo. No longer.

‘She didn’t try her father?’ asked Theodora.

‘She was sent away when she asked to see him in Berytus.’

Theodora nodded. ‘They tell me he works for his father’s dye company now. He wouldn’t want to be reminded of the days when he thought he had a future.’

She thought of the man she had once loved, and of her friend Chrysomallo who’d been carrying his child when she told Theodora the truth of their affair.

She sighed. ‘For years I wanted to punish them. I was delighted when Justinian made it harder for the colonial governors to skim tax extras for themselves. I knew that was how
Hecebolus raised funds for himself, and I was happy to hurt him. And now …’ she shook her head again, ‘it’s all war. The Huns have invaded Thrace and Macedonia, we heard last week that Bulgars have crossed the Danube, and then we get this news from Antioch. My own scars seem small. Send her to me.’

The girl, when she came into the room, was nervous, but she had been well trained by her mother, who had also served under Menander. She crossed the room, a cloak pulled tightly around her, bowed to the Empress, kissed her foot, and remained kneeling until she was asked to stand. When she did, her cloak fell back, revealing a high and round belly. The girl was tall, as her mother had been, with the long limbs, high cheekbones and dark eyes of her father. Theodora saw Hecebolus in the girl and felt a sharp pang of nostalgia and loss.

‘How far gone are you?’

‘Six months.’

‘Like mother, like daughter. So why isn’t he with you, the father?’

‘He’s just a boy.’

Theodora smiled. ‘And you are?’

‘Twenty-one.’

‘Ah, old.’

‘Old for marriage, Mistress, and too old for him anyway. He’s only sixteen, and bright, his family have high hopes for him, they’ve saved for years, they’re planning to send him to a university. They want him to be a lawyer.’

‘He doesn’t know you’re pregnant?’ The girl shook her head and Theodora said, ‘That’s kind of you.’

The girl frowned. ‘Or stupid.’

‘Your mother was none too bright herself.’

‘She said you’d say that.’

‘Chrysomallo told you to come to me?’

‘Before she died, she told me the whole story. I never knew my father, it was always the two of us.’

‘She didn’t find another man?’

‘With a young daughter …’ the girl shrugged, aware she was describing herself as well as her own mother, ‘her life was hard. She tried to make it better for me.’

‘Was she a whore?’

‘Sometimes. We worked for families mostly, cooking, cleaning.’

‘Chrysomallo learned to cook?’

‘No,’ the girl laughed, relaxing for the first time since she’d entered the room and Theodora could see Chrysomallo in her more clearly, ‘my mother learned to clean. I can cook.’

‘Is that why you’re here, to ask for a job?’

‘I’m here because I have nowhere else to go.’

Theodora gestured through the window, to the distant tower on the opposite shore, just visible now after a morning hidden in thick fog. ‘If you give up the child they’ll take you over at Metanoia.’

‘I won’t give up the child, and I would make a very bad nun.’

The girl smiled again and Theodora liked what she saw. ‘Then we’ll have to find you a husband. What’s your name?’

The girl bit her lip and mumbled, ‘Theodora. Sorry.’

Theodora laughed out loud then. ‘Dear God, your mother had guts. Good. In that case, there’s a young man, Saturninas, son of one of our senators. He’s an arrogant little bastard, promised marriage to his cousin’s daughter, tricked her into sleeping with him, now he wants to dump her. I’ve had her tedious mother here in tears, her father storming and threatening, but as they’re among our best supporters, it pays to
keep them happy. I found her a kinder young man, a young officer, but I’ve been looking for someone to show Saturninas the error of his ways. With the courage you’ve shown coming here, you might make a good match for him.’

‘I’m not asking for a husband. A job would do.’

‘A husband is a job, child, and his family are wealthy. Would you rather your baby grew up in the back kitchens of the Palace, trained to be a servant?’

‘No.’

‘He’s neither ugly nor old, just too full of himself. With any luck marriage will bring him to his senses. I’ll make sure he’s good to you.’

‘My mother said you’d be kind to me. She said—’

‘Your mother,’ Theodora interrupted her, ‘fucked my lover, ruined my hopes – for a time – and broke my heart. Believe me, I’m not doing this for her.’

‘Then why?’

Theodora looked directly at the girl. ‘Because no one ever did it for me.’

Saturninas was brought before the Empress and forced to agree marriage to the young woman who was penniless, pregnant, and much more assertive than the girls he usually dealt with. The Empress threatened him with an unlimited time in her personal dungeons if he refused. No one was actually sure if these dungeons existed, but her threat made them sound real enough and Saturninas didn’t want to risk it.

On the day of the marriage Theodora called for Armeneus: ‘The gift Hecebolus sent for my marriage to Justinian, what happened to it?’

‘The jewellery box you said I could keep, or sell, or get rid of however I wanted, Mistress?’ Armeneus asked, grinning.

‘That one.’

‘I have it still.’

‘Give it to the girl, she needs a dowry and if she finds she can’t bear him she can always sell it.’

Armeneus bowed and turned away.

Theodora called him back. ‘I’ve just told you to give away a valuable trinket that you were keeping for yourself, why are you smiling?’

‘You and Chrysomallo were my friends, Mistress, long before all this.’ The sweep of his arm took in the fine-knotted silk carpets, the lapis and amber mosaic fountain in the corner of the day room, the soft divans with softer cushions, the wealth and comfort, the privilege everywhere he looked. ‘We were friends, the three of us.’

‘You think I don’t remember?’

‘I think you rarely have cause to, and even when you do, it’s not always appropriate to acknowledge those memories. So yes, I’m pleased you took care of Chrysomallo’s daughter. It was kind.’

‘And solved the problem of Saturninas.’

‘That too. I’ll go and find the jewellery box.’

‘Tell Narses to give you its worth in gold, from my own account.’

Armeneus nodded his thanks. He did not say he had intended to do so anyway. He didn’t need to, she knew him well.

T
heodora walked into her husband’s office, sending the slaves, servants and clerics scrabbling to the floor as she threw herself down to bow to him. When she stood up it was clear she was ready to rant. Justinian held up a hand to silence her, then calmly added his signature and seal to a letter, nudged the cleric closest to stand and take the paper, and welcomed his wife into his office, telling everyone else they could leave, including the door slaves. He closed the doors behind them himself, and at last turned to his furious wife.

‘What is it now? Khusro? Totila? Vigilius? The Persian king, the new Goth upstart and the Pope have all conspired against us? No? Belisarius, then? Germanus? Surely not Armeneus?’ Justinian was smiling, teasing, ‘But you like Armeneus.’

‘The Cappadocian.’

‘I see. You’ve disturbed the one time in my day when I have an uninterrupted opportunity to get through the ever-increasing mounds of paperwork, in order to complain about my treasurer – again.’

‘You know I didn’t want you to reinstate him.’

‘We needed his help.’

‘I don’t trust him.’

‘You don’t trust Belisarius either.’

‘With good cause. Either of them would take the purple from you, from us, in an instant.’

‘And either of them might be successful in the role, but that these days Belisarius almost seems more driven by his passion for Antonina than for battle, and the Cappadocian is universally disliked. He raises taxes, and the people hate him – not me. We brought him back so that he could do the dirty work, while you and I stand in the Kathisma, applauded by a public who, right now, approve of us. Honestly? I think he’s doing very well.’

‘I’m happy for him to be the scapegoat. It’s his arrogance I’m not happy about. And now he’s demanding an income from Metanoia.’

‘What would you like me to do about it?’

‘I want you to believe me when I tell you he’s dangerous.’

Justinian bit his lip. ‘Theodora, you would have me believe Germanus hungers for the purple, that Belisarius will usurp me one day no matter what loyalty he professes, and that most of my senior staff are out to take my place. You might even be right, but I have to choose to trust some of them or I can’t work with any of them.’