would have left lifelong scars. Her father had brought back the recipe from his travels in the Black Sea and the home of the legendary Medea, from whose name and science the very word medicine had sprung. Healing Zoe could bring more patients, if she was fortunate, among them those who had known Bessarion and therefore Justinian, Antoninus, and whoever was really responsible for the murder.
As she walked home in the warm night air, she thought of the house she had just left. Zoe was an extraordinary woman. Even when she was injured, terrified, and in pain, the intensity of feeling in her charged the air with the kind of tension before a great storm that makes the skin tingle.
What had caused the fire in that gorgeous room with its wrought-iron torch stands and its rich tapestries? Something deliberate? Was that why Helena was afraid?
Anna quickened her pace, her mind exploring every possible use she could make of this opportunity. As a eunuch, she was invisible, like a servant. She could overhear, piece together, make sense of odd threads of information.
She returned to see Zoe every day for the first week. The calls were brief, simply enough to ensure that the healing was continuing as expected. It was obvious from the texture of her skin and the rich color of her hair that Zoe herself was skilled in the use of herbs and unguents. Of course, Anna never mentioned it; it would have been tactless. However, on the fourth occasion she found Helena visiting her mother, and she had no such qualms.
Anna was sitting on the edge of Zoe's bed when Helena observed, "That smells disgusting." She wrinkled her nose at the sharp odor of the unguent Anna was using. "At least most of your other oils and creams are pleasant, if a little heavy."
Zoe's eyes narrowed to agate-hard slits. "You should learn their use, and the value of perfume. Beauty begins as a gift, but you are rapidly approaching the age when it begins to become an art."
"Followed by the age when it is a miracle," Helena snapped.
Zoe's golden eyes widened. "Difficult for someone with no soul to conceive of miracles."
"Maybe I will, by the time I need them."
Zoe looked her up and down. "You've left it late," she whispered.
Helena smiled, a slow, secret satisfaction oozing through it. "Not as late as you think. It was my intention that you should think you knew everything-but you didn't. You still don't."
Zoe hid her surprise almost instantly, but Anna saw it.
"If you mean about Bessarion's death," Zoe answered, "then of course I knew it. The poisonings, and the knifing in the street. They had your hand all over them-they failed. Misconceived, and stupid." She sat up a little, pushing Anna aside, her attention fully upon her daughter. "Who did you think would take his place, you fool? Justinian? Demetrios? That's it-Demetrios. I suppose I have Eirene to thank for that." It was a conclusion, not a question. She sank back against the pillows, the pain showing in her face again. And Helena walked out.
Anna tried to keep her concentration on the slowly healing skin, but the thoughts raced in her mind. There had been other attempts on Bessarion's life. By whom? Apparently Zoe thought by Helena. Why? Who was Demetrios? Who was Eirene? Now she had something concrete to seek.
She finished the bandages, willing herself to keep her fingers steady.
It was not difficult to make the initial inquiries. Eirene was a woman of great note, ugly, clever, of ancient imperial family both by birth as a Doukas and by marriage as a Vatatzes. Gossip had it that she was responsible for the steady increase of her husband's fortune, even though he had not yet returned from exile, for most of which he had been in Alexandria.
She had one son-Demetrios. There the information stopped, and as yet Anna dared not press it any further. The connections she was looking for now were more sinister, perhaps dangerous.
By August, Zoe's burns were almost entirely healed and her patronage was bringing other patients to Anna. Some of these were wealthy merchants, dealers in furs and spices, silver, gems, and silks. They were happy to pay two or three solidi for the best herbs and even more for personal attention on demand.
Anna told Simonis to buy lamb or kid, even though they were recommended only for the first half of the month. They had been frugal ever since they had arrived in March. Now it was