We routed the Turks and pursued them to the Iron Gates on the Lycian frontier. Meanwhile our fleet occupied Chios and other islands, gaining a good booty.”
Which belonged to the Byzantines, Lucas thought.
“We wintered in Philadelphia, chiefly,” said En Jaime. “At that time the rich hom En Berenguer de Rocafort arrived with reinforcements. It became ever more plain to us how little strength or honor the Imperial government had. In revenge for our disputes with the Greeks, our treasures, which we had stored in the city of Magnesia, were confiscated next year, and our people there were put to the sword. Duke Roger laid siege, but I confess we failed to take the city, for lack of engineers and war machinery. The Imperial armies demanded to be led against us, and our Alan auxiliaries quit the standard and wandered about freely, living off the countryside. In the end, Andronicus’ son, the co-Emperor Skyr Miqueli--Michael, they call him here--smoothed matters over. But as we had long been unpaid, and had lost our treasures, we levied contribution from the provinces.”
Lucas said nothing. He was thinking of certain men he had met one day in a Turkish camp: Greeks so embittered they had turned Moslem. They told of a land robbed bare. The only plentiful article was the bones of children who had starved to death.
“That autumn we crossed the Boca Daner,” said En Jaime, meaning the strait which Gallipoli overlooked. “We took up quarters here and in various Thracian towns. Duke Roger visited Constantinople to demand our pay, but got only a small amount, and that in debased coinage. Wherefore our men taught the Greeks a sharp lesson by plundering all around. About this time, En Berenguer de Entenza arrived with reinforcements and--”
There was a deferential knock. A woman’s impatient voice said, “Oh, be not a cur in your timidity, Asberto, as well as in your manners.”
She entered without waiting for En Jaime’s leave. Behind her came the knight, Cornel. A stolen robe, on which he had wiped greasy fingers, draped his bow-legged horseman’s body. His broken visage turned embarrassedly toward the rich hom . “Na Violante wanted--” he began shyly.
“Na Violante de Lebia Tari wanted to see this newcomer from Cathay, of whom so many rumors have been flying,” interrupted the woman. As Lucas bowed, she gave him a slow, savoring smile. “And well worth seeing he is. Are they all so gallant in the East?”
Smooth habit answered for Lucas: “No, my lady, they are not. I’m long out of practice. Yet who would not try his best to be gallant in the presence of so much beauty?” Asberto flushed. “See here!” he growled. “Let her alone, Greco, or it’ll be the worse for you.”
“Enough.” En Jaime raised one hand. Asberto looked at his feet, gnawed his mustache, and said no more.
Violante continued to regard Lucas. He returned her gaze with frank pleasure. Tall, dark of eye and fair of complexion, she defied propriety by leaving uncovered the raven’s-wing hair piled on her head, and by a gown of blue silk that fitted her richly curved body like a second skin and plunged low across the breasts. Her features were a little too strong in nose and chin, a little too wide in mouth; yet surely that mouth knew how to kiss. She had adorned herself with a barbaric overflow of gems: a diamond fillet above the low brow, a ruby smoldering in the cleft of her bosom, golden bracelets coiled on her arms. Her age, Lucas guessed, was a few years less than his own.
“You must forgive me, En Jaime,” she said. “Asberto insisted you were entertaining privately. Yet for just that reason I had to come. When else could I listen to this man, who has guested the Grand Cham in Cambaluc?”
“You are welcome,” said the rich hom stiffly. Lucas thought he yielded more to a certain appeal in Asberto’s eyes than to the woman.
“Oh, now,” she murmured, touching his hand. He withdrew it. “Be not so stern. Why, you