Chapter 89
After a messenger brought news of the death of Andronikos’ beloved, Mariapitkee immediately felt a shift in the nature of the pall that hung over the palace. Nervous paranoia gave way to bleak depression. He did not want to see anyone. He refused to go out and remained secluded in his chambers.
Theodora had died.
Maraipitkee had never met the woman - she remained in Onaion when Andronikos moved on Constantinople, but he spoke of her often. She would have been his Empress, instead of poor Anna, if not for the prohibition regarding incest.
After several weeks of absence, Andronikos’s dereliction of his Imperial duties deteriorated to the point where the Master of the Inkstand, at wits’ end, approached her.
“You must go in and attempt to please him, coax him, engage him - he may listen to you. You must make him emerge and deal with the matters at hand.”
“The matters at hand?”
“Yes, girl, the Normans have landed at Epirus, in numbers uncountable. Their cavalry grazes over fields as far as the eye can see. Dyrrachium will fall unless aid is sent. You must rouse him from his lethargy.”
At the door to the chamber stood two guards.
“Come to brighten his mood, have you?” Brian the Saxon asked, opening the door for her. “He is alone. Told us to keep out. Happy to obey."
The rooms beyond were shadowed, with curtains drawn. Andronikos knelt in the gloom on the far side of the bedchamber.
“Shhh, someone is coming.”
“Great Basileus, I have come to soothe you. If you are at prayer, I could return later.”
The Emperor glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her voice. “Oh, it is one of the whores.” He turned back to stare at the wall. “I should have sent for , Theodora. Instead, I lustfully squandered my days with fallen women.”
“Master, to whom do you speak?” Mariapitkee shivered. Was the spirit of the dead woman in the room?
“My darling, I have been such a sinner. Such a cheat. I could have summoned you. We could have been together at the end. But the princess was close at hand, and nubile, and in need of comfort. Her betrothed had just died. Plus the political ramifications. The King of the Franks will be forced to ally with his brother-in-law. I was weak, you must understand.”
Andronikos cracked his head against the marble. “Forgive me, Theodora, forgive me Helena, forgive me Evdokia, forgive me Philippa. I have dishonored you all.” With each name, he struck his head on the tile. He had been doing this for some time. A welt was forming on his forehead, and on the fourth name, a trickle of blood ran down his face between his eyes.
* * *
After Andronikos escaped to the court of Yaroslav ‘the Eight Minded,’ his subsequent reconciliation with the Emperor lasted little more than two years. Only until Manuel’s daughter, Maria was betrothed.
In 1167, Manuel had no male heir to whom he could leave the Empire should sudden death befall him. His strictly religious German wife died five years earlier. As soon as the mourning period was over, he remarried the lovely Maria of Antioch, sister of Prince Bohemond, to secure that city as a vassal.
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For five years, the marriage was fruitless, until… joy of joys, a pregnancy. Alas, the child was stillborn. In despair, Manuel felt his only hope now lay with his daughter, Maria, aged fifteen. She would marry Bela of Hungary, and that border would never be a threat again. All nobles of the Empire would swear allegiance to her husband as .
Andronikos flatly refused. If a male heir was needed, the court was awash with the grandsons and great-grandsons of Emperor Alexios I, founder of the dynasty, himself foremost among them. Kneel to a Hun? An outsider? Accept as ? Never. Acting as Dux of Cilicia at the time, Andronikos simply rode off - with a contingent of mercenary lancers.
His arrival in Antioch was… completely unexpected. Prince Bohemund was unsure of the purpose of his visit, but he was polite to the dashing aristocrat. He found accommodations for Andronikos and his men, a banquet was held, and they were entertained.
Andronikos repaid his host’s kindness by scandalously seducing his other sister, Philippa. Her pedigree was impeccable: , nineteen years old, fresh from a convent upbringing, and Manuel’s sister-in-law. After despoiling the girl, he fled in the night with his lancers to Jerusalem.
Bemused King Almaric also received him. Andronikos’s affair with Behound's sister was causing a rift between Antioch and Constantinople. Was this an opportunity for Jerusalem to regain suzerainty over that constantly vacillating city? King Almaric considered Andronikos a pawn. As a man of distinction, he was installed as governor of Beirut, just down the coast from Antioch. Watch and wait.
Andronikos was no pawn, however. He soon repaid King Almaric’s kindness by scandalously seducing sister-in-law, Theodora, widow of his older brother. . The daughter of Manuel’s elder brother, Issac. . Even better.
This was not like the seduction of Philippa, a ruin and run whim.
Theodora was the love of his life. Together, they eloped in the night to Damascus.
There, the glamorous couple, Andronikos, prince of the Romans, dignified and powerful at fifty, with only the slightest salt-and-peppering in the hair at his temples, and Thodora, dowager Queen of Jerusalem, a most beautiful widow at a mere twenty-one, were feted and celebrated.
Every magnate in the Arab world, from Alexandria to Baghdad, wanted the distinction of hosting the nephew of Emperor John the Beautiful and his consort, Emperor John’s stunning granddaughter. (“But doesn't that make them…?” Yes. Titillating guests to be sure.)
They wore ornately embroidered clothing made from the finest fabrics, much of it dyed purple. Arriving in each new city clad in the finest adornments, gifts from their prior hosts, they set the trend for fashion.
They could never truly wed, however. Andronikos had been excommunicated when he fled and was therefore forbidden any of the church’s sacraments. Plus, there was the whole incest issue.
Children came, and over a dozen years passed.
Spent how? As what? Roving guests? Political pawns? Aristocratic beggars?
Welcomes worn thin, Andronikos was granted land in Georgia, where the king faced the problem of having more lands than able men to administer them. Here, they found a home and could put down roots.
The grant of land, however, required military service when called upon. The King of Georgia needed soldiers to help his cousin, the Shah of the Servans, retake a fortress. Andronikos accompanied the force, but while he was gone, Imperial agents abducted Theodora and the children. They were taken back to Constantinople.
There was nothing to be done but to beg for Manuel’s fucking forgiveness once again.
His daughter had never married Bela of Hungary; swearing homage to a foreigner was a moot point. Manuel now had a son. The boy was old enough for betrothal, and Maria was marrying some lordling from the north of Italy.
Oh yes. Andronikos would beg for forgiveness, but this time he would do it with some theatrical style.
* * *
Mariapitkee performed the offices of the Emperor’s six dressing servants (and their supervisor) alone. She arranged the domed circlet, the - the Imperial crown, on his head to hide the welt. A pendilia of strung rubies was moved from its place among the pearls to dangle closer to his forehead under the gold cross. No one would notice.
They emerged to the applause and welcome of gathered courtiers.
“Great Basileus,” the Master of the Inkstand began, “The Sicilian Normans have invaded.”
“Send to General Branas, the , he is to monitor their progress and await reinforcement, which my son Manuel will bring up. Announce a general muster. He will take the greater portion of the and all but a bare force to man the walls.”
“Excellent, great one. All will be done.” The bureaucrat simpered. “The restoration of Forty Martyrs Church is complete. Tuesday next, the twenty-first of May, is the Feast of St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, founder of this city. Perhaps the reinterment of your wife could proceed?”
“Her name saint. Helena, how I wronged you when I absconded with the others, leaving you to die alone. Yes. I will atone.”
Mariapitkee listened.
