The Byzantine Wager

Chapter 44 - At the Break of a New Day

Chapter 44

At the Break of a New Day

Other great love stories of the so-called Middle Ages feature forbidden love between monks and nuns, jousts for m'lady's hand, or princesses freed from ransom. The greatest romance of them all began inauspiciously as rosy fingered dawn was reaching over the Queen of Cities.

Abused, ravaged, weeping, stumbling in a daze, and terrified unto death, Mariapitkee made her way alone from the Blachernae Palace back to Pandarus' slave market near the Forum of Theodosius. Despair filled her. It was as if she was cast into the ocean far from shore without even so much as a piece of flotsam to cling to.

Tired, hung over, spent, and lost (where were they?) - Cyn made his way out of the "finest house of pleasure in the city" - or so Nestor had told him - which the light of day revealed to be a furnished building attached to a specialty slave market near the Forum of Theodosius. Fatigue filled him and he felt like flotsam floating in the ocean.

When Mariapitkee saw the handsome young fellow from yesterday's races emerge from the brothel, it was she who felt a flush of shame.

The crossbowman could see the beauty from the kasthima (the actual actual girl - not the quiet one who looked so much alike whom he had woken next to) was distraught and had been weeping. She could not disguise the bruising on her throat.

She could speak no Latin, and he could hardly speak any Greek, but he had acquired enough of the language, and his mother had instilled enough politeness in him, to inquire as to a person's health. She shyly said she was well. He handed her a cloth to wipe away her tears.

"Nestor, ask her..." Cyn did not know what to ask her. The girl exchanged a whirl of words with the old storyteller. One of the other things Cyn knew in Greek was how to inquire as to a person's name. He interrupted the conversation to ask.

He had never encountered the name before, but it was the most beautiful word he had ever heard. Mary-a-pit-key. She lowered her eyes and entered the building.

"What did she say?" Cyn asked Nestor.

"She wanted to know who you were?"

'What did you say?"

"To be honest, I do not know who you are. I told her you were a lord from the west."

"I like the sound of that."

* * *

Upstairs, Mariapitkee slunk into an empty room and curled up on a bed. Later, Eyrienee entered, sat next to her, and put hand on her shoulder to console her. Mariapitkee was grateful for her attempt at comfort. She cried anew knowing it was too awful to speak about what had happened. She did not know how to warn her sister of the peril she would face in the palace.

For her part Eyrienee remained silent as always. They lay down together close on the small bed. Mariapitkee stroked Eyrienee's long black hair, and hummed softly, her sobs interrupted by quiet hiccups. Eyrienee was sleepy having been up with a late customer. At least he had been handsome and clean - if stumbling drunk.

It was only later that Mariapitkee realized that the cloth she was drying her tears with was the mappa she had dropped at the races.