In the Heart of Darkness by Eric Flint & David Drake

Antonina considered the Empress’ words for a moment.

“Makes sense,” she said. Then, fixing Theodora with a level, serene gaze, added: “So be it.”

The Empress returned the gaze. Nothing was said, for a full minute. When the Empress looked away, Irene noted that color had now fully returned to her face.

“Thank you, Antonina,” whispered Theodora. “Again.”

The intensity with which the words were spoken startled Irene, at first. Until she realized what had just happened. With that realization, she transferred her sharp eyes to the face of Antonina.

There was nothing to be seen on the Egyptian woman’s face, beyond green-eyed, dark-haired, olive beauty. And serenity.

In the months since she had first met Antonina, she had often been impressed by her. But never more than at that moment.

A little chuckle from the Empress drew Irene’s eyes. To her surprise, she found Theodora watching her.

“Good, Irene. You understand, then. Precious few people ever have.”

Irene blew out her cheeks. “Not many women would agree to incriminate themselves on behalf of an ­Empress whose husband, well-placed rumor has it, is trying to have their own husband murdered. Without asking so much as a question. That’s a different kind of trust than I usually encounter.”

“Than anyone encounters,” replied Theodora. For a moment, her lips tightened with anger. “I’m sure you’ve heard that my close friendship with Antonina is due to the fact that we’re both former whores from Alexandria? Birds of feather, as it were, flocking ­together.”

Irene nodded. “Any number of times.”

“Idiots,” snarled the Empress. “I know—knew, at least—plenty of Alexandrian whores who’d slit their own sister’s throat for two denarii.”

Antonina murmured: “That’s not fair, Theodora. Antiochene whores, maybe. Any self-respecting Egyptian whore would hold out for a solidus.”

Theodora cawed harshly. The Empress leaned forward in her seat, bracing her hands on her knees.

“I need you to be my spymaster, Irene.”

Interpreting correctly the slight hesitation in the woman’s face, Theodora made a little flipping motion with her hand, as if brushing something aside.

“I’ll settle it with Sittas. He doesn’t need your services half as much as I do. And I’ll pay more than he does. Rich as he is, I’m a lot richer. And unlike Sittas, I’m not a stingy tightwad.”

Irene chuckled, glancing around the lavishly furnished room. “You certainly aren’t!”

When Irene had approached Theodora, a week earlier, with her charges against Narses and her plan to trap him in a treasonous meeting, it had been the Empress who had purchased this villa to serve as their command post. Purchased it—a huge, luxurious villa. Just—bought it. Like a matron buys fruit from a grocer.

The spymaster shook her head. “There’s no point in that, Theodora. I can serve as your spymaster while staying on Sittas’ payroll. It’d be much better that way. The fewer people who know of our relationship, the better. Money trails are the easiest to track. If I’m on your payroll, even secretly, someone will find out.”

“The same objection applies to your being on Sittas’ payroll,” countered the Empress. “More so. I’m sure my security is better than Sittas’.”

Irene shrugged. “So what? Let our enemies find out that I’m Sittas’ spymaster. I’m sure they already know, anyway. Good. Excellent. Let them keep thinking that. Sittas they are not worried about. He’s just a fat general who hates palace duty in Constantinople. Stuck way out there in Syria. Good at his trade, sure, but lazy and unambitious.”

Theodora ran fingers through her elaborate coiffure, thinking. Almost immediately, the fingers became tangled in that incredible structure. Suddenly, vigorously, she plunged her fingers into the mass and pulled it all loose. Long black tresses cascaded over her shoulders. Her hair, now truly visible, was quite beautiful.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time!”

Again, the women laughed. But it was a very brief moment of levity.

Theodora nodded. “You’re right. Whatever their plot is, it does not appear to focus on the army. I noticed that no military figures attended that meeting tonight.”

“No, they didn’t. I’m pretty sure they’ve suborned a few officers, but not many. The only one of significance is Aegidius, the commander of the army in Bythinia. I’m not positive, but I think he’s one of them. An underling, though, not a ringleader.”