her father went with the men to the main body of the hall.
She reached the top and stood with the others staring down into the heart of the church as, in profound reverence, the priests performed the blessing and the taking of the sacrament of Christ's body and blood, given to redeem mankind. The ritual was Byzantine to the heart, solemn and subtle, ancient as the trust between man and God.
The sermon was about the faith of Gideon leading the armies of the children of Israel against a force that seemed overwhelming. Again and again God commanded Gideon to reduce his meager army until it seemed absurd even to attempt a battle. The priest pointed out that this was so that when they won, as they would do, they would know that it was God who had made it possible. They would be victorious, but also both humble and grateful. They would know upon whom to rely in all future paths. First obey, and nothing is impossible, no matter what appearances suggest.
Was he speaking of the threat to the Church posed by the union with Rome? Or an invasion by crusading forces again, if the union was refused and the Latins returned, violent and bloody as before?
After the last notes of the singing faded away, she turned to leave, and then the horror dawned on her. Unthinking, she had followed the other women up to the women's section. She had utterly forgotten she was supposed to be a eunuch. What on earth could she do? How could she escape now? The sweat broke out on her body, drenching her and leaving her cold. Everyone knew that the balconies of the upper floor were for women. She was agonized with shame.
The women were streaming past her, eyes downcast, heads veiled, unlike hers. None of them looked back up to where she stood clinging to the banister, swaying a little as dizziness overwhelmed her. She must find an excuse, but what? Nothing could account for coming up here.
An old woman stopped beside her, her skin pale, her face withered. Dear heaven, was she going to demand an explanation? She looked ashen. Was she going to faint and draw the attention of the entire crowd?
The old woman swayed and gave a hacking cough; a spot of blood stained her lips.
The answer came like a shaft of light. Anna put her arm around the woman and eased her down to sit on the steps. "I'm a physician," she said gently. "I'll help you. I'll see you home."
A younger woman turned and saw them. She quickly came back up a step.
"I'm a physician," Anna said quickly. "I saw her looking ill and I came up to help her. I'll take her home." She assisted the old woman to her feet, arm around her again, supporting most of her weight. "Come," she encouraged. "Direct me where to go."
The younger woman smiled and made way for them, nodding approval.
Nevertheless, afterward, Anna arrived home trembling with relief. Simonis looked at her anxiously, knowing there was something wrong, but Anna was too ashamed of her stupidity to tell her what it was.
"Have you found anything further?" Simonis asked, holding out a goblet of wine and placing a dish of bread and chives in front of Anna.
"No," Anna said quietly. "Not yet."
Simonis said nothing, but her look was eloquent. They were not here risking their lives a hundred miles from home so Anna could gain a new medical practice. In Simonis's opinion, there was nothing wrong with the one Anna had had in Nicea. Their only reason for leaving it, and the places and friends they had known all their lives, was to rescue Justinian.
"My tunics are very good," Simonis said quietly. "Thank you. You must be getting new patients. Rich ones."
Anna could see the disapproval in her stiff shoulders and the way she pretended to be concentrating on grinding the mustard seeds to make the sauce for the flatfish she would cook tomorrow.
"Rich is incidental," she told her. "They knew Justinian and the other people around Bessarion. I am learning about his friends, and perhaps Bessarion's enemies."
Simonis looked up quickly, her eyes bright. She smiled briefly; it was as far as she dared go, in case her belief invited bad luck, and the prize slipped away. "Good." She nodded. "I see."
"You don't like the city much, do you?" Anna said softly. "I know you miss the people you knew at home. So do I."