The Purple Shroud: A Novel of Empress Theodora Read Online Free PDF Page B

encouragement to shake their heads at Theodora’s behaviour.
    The chant grew louder and the fat man realised it was an impossible situation. Careful to bow first, he kissed the Empress’s foot, although she skipped every time his lips came near her toe, and then he backed out of the chamber, sweating, mumbling, hurrying from the Palace. The ladies and their attendant eunuchs laughed, many of the remaining petitioners applauded, and Theodora went back to her seat on the raised dais, the ceremonial robes a little less heavy.
    ‘Good. Who’s next?’
    Two more refugees were granted leave to stay in the City, and then a young man came forward, not much older than Theodora; his face weather-beaten, he looked like a sailor or a pilgrim. He bowed and kissed Theodora’s foot with no fuss. When he stood up he was smiling.
    ‘I’m pleased to see you looking so well, Mistress.’
    ‘Really?’
    Theodora was wary. Since her elevation in status many claimed to have seen her naked on stage or cavorting in a private house. Most had embellished or completely invented their tales – certainly she had not been quite so busy or as wild as many of the storytellers suggested.
    Armeneus stepped forward. ‘Your petition? The Augusta is busy.’
    ‘I’ll tell it,’ the man answered, the Italian accent clearer now in his stilted Greek.
    ‘Would you prefer to speak Latin?’ Theodora asked in Latin.
    The man shook his head. ‘No, Mistress. My Greek is ugly, I hear it especially in this court, but it offers more choice for conversation, more room for thought. As an artist I find it elegant.’
    ‘I’ve always found Greek useful, especially when discussing faith…or love.’ She smiled and the young man smiled back. ‘But as you can see, my staff become nervous when I chat, they’re worried I’ll enjoy myself too much – yes, Armeneus?’
    Armeneus said nothing. If Theodora was in a good mood having attacked a patrician, and chose to spend the rest of the day charming Italian peasants, he was not going to complain. The more they got through here, the happier Narses would be.
    ‘You may remember me, Mistress, if I tell you my name is Stephen and I am a mosaic artist.’
    Theodora stood up, and again her entourage stood to attention with her.
    ‘Come closer.’
    The man approached, and Theodora stared at him.
    After a long while she spoke again, ‘Alexandria?’
    ‘Yes, Mistress.’
    ‘You were there when I met the Patriarch Timothy, before I went into the desert. You told me I should not give up.’
    The man agreed. ‘I’d seen plenty of lost souls in my own pilgrimage.’
    ‘You thought I was lost?’
    ‘It was no special knowing. You were tired, another traveller waiting on the religious; I’d seen the same in the Holy Land, the Church dealing with us in its own time. I wanted to cheer you up. And I had once seen you on stage, I could see the difference from the girl you had been…’ he stopped himself. ‘Is it all right to say that here?’
    ‘Very many have, and much more,’ Theodora sighed and Sophia grinned. ‘So, you knew nothing, but encouraged me to stay anyway, to wait for Timothy, who became my mentor.’
    ‘You looked like you needed encouragement.’
    ‘I did. And are you here because you think I owe you?’
    ‘No, Mistress, I’m here because I want a job.’
    ‘I have a household chief who’s irritating me today, any interest in taking over from him?’ she asked, looking at Armeneus, who glanced up from his notes and nodded, the image of passive courtly protocol.
    ‘Thank you, no. I want to create the mosaics for the new church in Ravenna.’
    Theodora frowned. ‘We’ve only just agreed the building work there, it’ll be years before the foundations are laid; with all this fuss from the Goths, it’s bound to be a slow build. You’ll wait a decade or more before the internal decoration begins.’
    ‘And I’ll be a better artist by then.’
    ‘You think highly of yourself.’
    The artist