Read The Purple Shroud: A Novel of Empress Theodora for Free Online Page A

when the Emperor Justin chose the scholar nephew Justinian as his successor, rather than himself, the military man. Germanus knew his greatest skills lay in soldiering, not diplomacy or the back-room discussions that were so much a part of government and bored him senseless. His wife Pasara however, had made no secret of her disgust when Theodora was raised to patrician, and subsequently made Empress. And yet, even with these old hurts rankling, both Sittas andGermanus, and all the disapproving women, roundly applauded Justinian’s admiration for Belisarius.
    Theodora knew from her stage career that the public could be fickle. Today they were pleased with their studious Emperor, enthusiastic about his many building projects. On another day however, there would be incursions from the Persian border, or stories of Vandals and Goths attacking in the west, or the Green faction might again whip up rumours that Justinian, from the opposing Blues, was showing favouritism; on that day the people might prefer the idea of a soldier Emperor again, someone to maintain order at home and abroad. Justinian did not see the young and successful Belisarius as a rival. Theodora thought it fortunate for both of them that she did.
    The meal was ending and Antonina and Belisarius were keen to take Stephen home for more wine and stories of Italy. Belisarius because he believed the Ravennese’s experience of living so close to Goth rule would be more useful than the information he had at second hand from their spies; Antonina simply because the much-praised young general she already had as husband was never quite enough for her. Not that Belisarius noticed; on the rare occasions he tore himself away from military matters he was as besotted with his wife as everyone else was with him. Or perhaps, as Theodora once remarked, he was simply too damn in love with his own image to notice that Antonina didn’t gaze after him as often as everyone else did.
    One by one the guests left, each careful to bow before the August and Augusta as they did so. Theodora took special delight in Pasara’s evident dislike of the gesture, keeping her low in the bow as she spoke to her.
    ‘Pasara, I hope you enjoyed your meal?’
    ‘Yes, thank you…Mistress.’
    There was the slightest hesitation before she spoke the demanded title, and Theodora noted it, as Pasara no doubt meant her to. Germanus caught his wife’s hand and the exalted, but not Imperial, couple left together. Pasara might be an aristocrat, comfortable with the intrigue and doublespeak of court, but her husband understood that Theodora had been raised in the Hippodrome; even without the purple on her back the Empress would always win in a war of words.
    Theodora was impressed to hear Stephen turn down the invitation to spend a few more days in the City in Antonina’s care. He pleaded the need to make as many sketches of Theodora as possible before he took his place on board a ship leaving in two days’ time, and while Antonina was obviously disappointed, she didn’t press her case. She had the golden warrior at her side after all; a last late drink would suffice. The artist’s own goodnight was full of gratitude. Theodora knew the exhaustion of poverty, and understood exactly why Stephen was so moved. He had journeyed to Constantinople purely on hope: he could now go home and get on with his life, marry, start a studio, take on an apprentice or two, secure in the knowledge that one day his name would be made. Most of the Palace staff wouldn’t have noticed, but Theodora had changed his life this afternoon. It occurred to her that she had probably changed the fat patrician’s life as well, and she was quite pleased about that too.
    Theodora waited until Narses was busy farewelling Belisarius before she turned to Justinian. ‘Are you working tonight?’
    ‘Tribonian has some papers for me to look over,’ Justinian said.
    Theodora smiled.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘You,’ she said, ‘your leniency,