Now it was she who did not know how to answer without giving herself away.
"Your money is on the table by the door," she said between her teeth. "You bore me. Take it and go."
Anna swiveled and went out, forcing herself not to run.
Chapter 33-34
Thirty-three
ANNA ARRIVED HOME AFTER HER ENCOUNTER WITH Helena with her mind racing and her body still trembling as if she had been physically assaulted. She strode past Simonis with barely a word and went to her own room. She took off her clothes and bandages and stood naked, then washed herself over and over again, as though she could cleanse herself with harsh, astringent lotion, smelling the bite of it with pleasure. It stung, even hurt, but the pain pleased her.
She dressed again in her plain golden brown tunic and dalmatica and left the house without eating or drinking. She was fortunate that Constantine was at home.
He rose from his seat, his broad face filled with anxiety the moment after she entered. "What is it?" he demanded. "What's happened? Is it another monk tortured? Dead?"
It was preposterous! Her obsession with her own, so desperately trivial hurt, when people were dying terribly. She started to laugh, hearing it run out of control and end in sobbing. "No," she gasped, fumbling her way forward to sit in her accustomed chair. "No, it's nothing at all, nothing that matters." She put her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. "I saw Helena. I've been treating her-nothing serious, just painful. She..."
"What?" he demanded, sitting opposite her. His voice was gentle, but there was an edge of alarm in it.
She looked up at him, steadying herself. "Really nothing," she repeated. "You told me that she made an advance to Justinian, which he found acutely embarrassing." She did not add her own experience, but he understood it. She saw his face darken and then pity and revulsion leap to his eyes, as if he had been touched by it himself.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Be careful. She is a dangerous woman."
"I know. I think I made a reasonably graceful refusal, but I know she won't forget it. I hope I don't have to treat her again. Perhaps she won't want me to..."
"Don't rely on that, Anastasius. It entertains her to humiliate."
Anna pictured Helena's face. "I think she knows humiliation. She told me Justinian was in love with her. She showed me a beautiful box that she said he gave her." She saw it in her mind as she said it. It was the sort of thing Justinian would have chosen, but surely not for Helena?
Constantine's mouth curled with distaste and perhaps a vestige of pity. "Lies," he said without hesitation. "He disliked her, but he believed that Bessarion could lead the people against the union with Rome, so he hid his feelings."
"She said he quarreled with Bessarion badly, shortly before he was killed. Was that a lie, too?"
Constantine stared at her. "No," he said quietly. "That was the truth. He told me of it himself."
"Why?" she demanded. "Was it about Helena? Did Justinian tell him that Helena had... How could he tell him such a thing?"
"He didn't." Constantine shook his head minutely. "It was not to do with Helena."
"Then what?"
"I can't tell you," he replied. "I'm sorry."
The protest welled up inside her. She saw in his face that he knew the answer and that he would not tell her.
"Was it a confession?" she said shakily. "Justinian?" Now the fear gripped inside her like an iron hand closing.
"I cannot tell you," Constantine repeated. "To do so would betray others. Some things I know, some I guess. Would you have me speak that aloud, were it your heart and your secret?"
"No," she said hoarsely. "No, of course I wouldn't. I'm sorry."
"Anastasius..." He swallowed hard. His skin was very pale. "Be very careful of Helena, of all of them. There is such a lot that you don't understand, life and death, cruelty, hatred, old debts and dreams, things that people never let go of." He leaned farther toward her. "Two men are dead already, and a third exiled, and that is only a tiny part of it. Serve God in your own way, heal their ills, but leave the rest of it alone."
To argue with him would be pointless and unfair. She had not told him the truth, so how could he understand? They were each trying to reach the other, he failing because he was bound by the sanctity