Anna of Byzantium by Tracy Barrett Read Free Book Online Page B

with today’s lesson,” she said.
    “And I say you have,” answered my mother.
    “The emperor commands that she learn what I have to teach her,” was the reply.
    “And the empress commands that you cease.”
    They appeared to be at an impasse.
    “Wait,” said my grandmother. “Let the child decide. It is, after all, her future that is at stake. Anna, when you are empress you will need to know how to rule. You will also need someone who is experienced in statecraft to guide you. I have knowledge of all areas of rule—war, peace, diplomacy, economy—what do you have to offer?” She wheeled on my mother.
    My mother did not hesitate. “I have God’s law,” she said. “I have compassion, mercy, and justice. And I too know what is expected of a ruler. I, after all, was raised in a palace, not in an Armenian goatherd’s tent.” Goatherd’s tent? I thought in confusion. Grandmother was the daughter of a goatherd? And Armenian? Surely they were barbarians, like the Turks? But I had little time to wonder at what my mother had said.
    “Enough,” said my grandmother. “Decide, Anna.”
    I looked from one to the other. My mother’s idea of a gentle rule appealed to me. But what good had it done her family? An emperor deposed and exiled in his old age, a city destroyed, churches looted. And if my father was ruling under his mother’s advice, should I not follow his example and use her as my teacher too? Surely he, of all people, knew which of them was better at teaching me. My father was a glorious emperor. The Turks were being beaten back farther from our borders every day, so we were told. My father had recently established the largest leper hospital in the world, where ill people were taken care of and given the last rites as they died. New churches with glorious paintings and mosaics in them were rising all over the empire. Surely, if he had to tell a few lies to accomplish all this, if he had to disappoint a few allies, it made for more peace and stability in the long run. Not to mention a stronger hold on the throne.
    “I’m sorry, Mother,” I said. “I will need my grandmother to help me rule when I become empress.”
    “What makes you think she will still be alive?” my mother broke in, tears starting from her eyes.
    I hadn’t thought of that. My grandmother seemed ageless.
    “Well, if she isn’t, I will need all the more time to learn from her now,” I said. “I will happily learn from you, too …” I said desperately as she turned to leave. “Mother,” I pleaded, “I want to learn your lessons too!” But she had already disappeared through the door. For a moment I thought of following her, but before I couldmove, my grandmother’s voice stopped me. It was cold, but the note of triumph was unmistakable.
    “Now I will tell you about the tactics used by the Normans,” she said. I turned and sat down wearily. Her voice went on and on, but I didn’t hear a word. Instead, I kept picturing the city of Constantinople in flames, my father in sackcloth, my mother humiliated. But the image of the old Ducas king, whom my father had replaced, reduced to the status of a common man, rose in my mind. I saw him, once the proud leader of millions, riding in a common coach, being borne away to a monastery to live out his life in dreary exile. My stomach churned at the thought. Anything but that, I said to myself, and with an effort drew my attention back to the present.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    y father was coming home. Messengers had arrived on exhausted horses to tell us that the war had been a success and the Turks were for the moment not a problem. But my father did not come with them, and although my mother didn’t say so, I knew she was worried at the delay. I, on the other hand, prided myself on my patience. After all, I had waited to be born until he returned from war, hadn’t I? I knew he was safe and would be back soon.
    Besides, I was too busy to worry. As an eleven-year-old, I was nearly a woman.