Page 103 of My Fair Viking

Romanus rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes twinkling with delight. She could see that she and her entire retinue amused him. It was true that she and her men were attired differently from these Byzantines. Her men wore hip-length tunics with thick belts over braies and leather boots. Some of them even wore wolf skins. No matter how fine their fabrics or the jewels they might wear, they were primitive in appearance compared to these more sophisticated Byzantines, who wore loose silk or linen ankle-length gowns of a T-shape, highly ornamented with embroidery. Their necks and arms and various fingers held jewels worth a king's treasure.

At twenty-three, Romanus was an impressive man, and not just because of his garments of royal purple encrusted with pearls and rubies. The young man had inherited his father's fine physique and charming manners, not to mention his mother's beauty. And vanity—he had that in abundance, it was clear. Already he wore her amber pendant around his neck, hanging over his golden breastplate.

He was nothing compared to Adam, though. No one was.

"But a woman in the Imperial Army, Romanus? It is unheard of." The woman speaking at Romanus's side was Theophano, a breathtakingly beautiful woman with sleek dark hair reaching down to her knees and wide ebony eyes. The sapphire torque around her neck could purchase five longships. Theophano was clearly in love with her husband, and he with her. They could not seem to stop touching one another… a hand on the wrist here, a pat on the head there. Theophano had already given him three children and was pregnant with a fourth. No wonder, with all that touching!

"But perhaps that is the best part, Theo," Romanus said as if thinking aloud. "No other king or emperor could boast of the same. Mayhap if the Princess Tyra works out, I could establish a separate female guard. Truly, my dear, I will be the envy of every monarch in the world."

Theophano was not convinced. "Like a freak dwarf, or a double-headed cow?" she sneered.

Tyra bristled with outrage, but held her tongue when Gunter and Egil squeezed her forearms from either side in warning.

Even more alarming, Theophano kept looking from Tyra to Romanus, as if she suspected that her husband had a personal interest in Tyra… which was ridiculous, of course, especially when he had a woman of Theophano's outstanding beauty.

Unfortunately, that suspicion proved true when Theophano whispered to her husband, loud enough for Tyra to overhear, "She is so big, dearling, and not at all pretty."

Romanus, the dumb dolt, answered, "Dost think so, dearling? On the contrary, I think she is stunning. Tall, yes, and perhaps not pretty, but very attractive."

Holy Thor! That should put an end to her hopes of joining the Varangian Guard. A jealous wife would never allow her husband to employ an attractive woman. Not that Tyra considered herself attractive. It must be something Adam had done to her that made her appear different to men. She and Gunter and Egil exchanged meaningful glances, and shrugged. Perhaps they could continue on to the Rus lands and find mercenary work there. Or they could backtrack to Trelleborg and become Jomsvikings, but Tyra misdoubted the knights would allow a woman to join their ranks. Or her men could stay and become Varangians while she went off on her own.

Romanus clapped his hands together as if making a decision. "It is done. You and your soldiers are welcome to join my army, Tyra." He motioned for a man standing off to the side to come forward. "Let me introduce you to my general, Nicephorus Phocas. Nicky, you can find a place for several accomplished fighting men… and a woman, ha ha ha… can you not?"

Tyra was in awe. Who had not heard of General Nicephorus Phocas? Nicephorus was famous for his spectacular triumphs in recent years in Crete.

Whereas Romanus was young and handsome, Nicephorus, at fifty or so years, was short and squat with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. His complexion was swarthy from years of serving under the Syrian sun. His eyes, piercing and sad, were small and dark, under heavy brows.

He stared for a long time at Tyra before speaking. "We are constantly involved in battle to drive the infidels back to the desert. That is my brother Leo's area of command," he told her. "Do you have any problem fighting Arabs?"

For some reason, an image of Rashid flashed into her mind. But she gave the answer that was expected of her. "The enemy of my friend is my enemy, too."

He nodded his acceptance of her words, then waved a hand in the emperor's direction. "It is as you wish, Your Majesty." Then he walked away.

Romanus walked down the steps toward her, smiling widely. "Welcome to Byzantium," he said warmly, kissing her lightly on one cheek, then the other.

Over his shoulder, Tyra saw Theophano glaring at her with venom. It appeared that her welcome to Byzantium was not a universal one.

"Be careful," Gunter advised her in an undertone. "Be very careful, my lady."

Egil concurred by adding from her other side, "You have entered a real vipers' nest here. And the queen asp has her eye on you."

Their words of caution were reinforced when the empress stepped down from the royal dais and went off to the side, where she and General Phocas put their heads together, looking up from time to time toward her.

An uncomfortable ripple of foreboding swept over Tyra's body. Battles she could fight—'twas what she'd been trained to do. But court intrigues were another matter.

Gunter and Egil were here with her, and several dozen of her hesirs, but still Tyra came to an alarming conclusion.

I am all alone.

Tyra's fears were reinforced that night as she prepared for bed in one of the small castle chambers that had been assigned to her. Gunter and Egil and all her soldiers had been given quarters in the army guardhouse. She was virtually isolated from her men.

Azize, a Turkish slave assigned to her, whispered a warning as she smoothed out the bed linens. "Be careful of the empress, my lady. Her beauty is a facade to hide much evil. Nothing and no one stand in the way of her ambition."

Tyra was surprised that a servant would speak so bluntly, but she was not about to question the maid's good intentions. "Perhaps your view is biased because of your situation," Tyra suggested kindly as she began to take off her clothing. From her language, it was clear that Azize was not of common birth. No doubt she was a prize of one battle or another and resented the empress's royal position, which she might very well have held in another country.

Azize shook her head vehemently. "The empress tolerates no rivals… real or perceived. When Romanus became emperor, she had his mother and five sisters relegated to a distant part of the castle, like prisoners. Then, after his mother died, Theophano forced all five girls into nunneries, against their will. The Patriarch Polyeuctus himself was called in to shear their hair in public. Ahhh, the wailing and lamentations were so sorrowful! All five of them were then sent to different convents so they would never see each other again in this lifetime. They are now slaves as much as I."

Tyra decided then and there to heed Azize's warning. The sooner she was out of this palace, the better. She slept with her sword that night. Adam's shield on the floor by her low pallet served as an odd comfort to Tyra as she began her new life in a foreign country.