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“Are you being sarcastic?” Drifa inquired sweetly.
“Me?” He placed a hand over his heart with exaggerated innocence. He smiled at her then, and, oh, he had a very nice smile. She recalled in that moment why she had fallen for his seduction five years ago and braced herself to resist his dubious charms.
“Who other?” she snipped as Sidroc continued to play the innocent fool.
And, really, the oaf had some nerve threatening to make her a bed thrall when he already had a lovely mistress to satisfy his base urges. And sometime she was going to tell him exactly what she thought of his coming into her bedchamber in the middle of the night when he had no doubt just slipped out of Ianthe’s arms.
Ianthe narrowed her eyes, studying the interplay between her and Sidroc, so Drifa quickly turned to Wulf and began talking about what he had planned for the next few days. The hersirs’ stay in Miklagard had already been extended from a day or two to five as they saw and heard of more sights and activities they must witness.
When she glanced back again, Ianthe had her arm looped with Sidroc’s and was leaning up to whisper something in his ear. He, in turn, whispered something in Ianthe’s ear, which caused his mistress’s cheeks to bloom with color.
Drifa felt an uncomfortable surge of jealousy, which was untenable to her. She didn’t want the cad. She didn’t!
The whole time they’d been talking, servers had been placing platter after platter before them.
They started with kakavia, a fish soup that had mussels and chunks of white fish floating on top. Then there was a young goat, head intact, stuffed with garlic and leeks, as well as lamb and pork in many variations, roasted, and covered with sweet and savory sauces, a combination much favored by the Greeks. The Greeks, like the Vikings, enjoyed mustard with their meats, too.
Also, small wooden skewers held pieces of meat with vegetables, like carrots, onions, and something new to her, eggplant. Of course there was plenty of fish, fresh and saltwater, thanks to the nearby waterways, including snails and mussels still in their shells. Baby octopuses swam in leek butter garnished with parsley. Dolmades were rolled grape leaves filled with chopped meats and barley.
Many of the dishes were covered with garos, a fish sauce, or a white cream sauce called béchamel. Lentils were offered in many different combinations.
At the end of the meal, slices of fruit cleansed the tongue. Oranges, limes, grapes, succulent melons, figs, and pomegranates. Or for those few not yet filled to the gullet, servants carried in a tray of sweetmeats the Greeks had invented called marzipan, and kopton, a deliciously sweet confection made of baked layers of parchment-thin dough interspersed with butter, thinned honey, and walnuts.
Drifa promised herself to write down the names of some of these foods as soon as she returned to her chambers so she would be able to relate it all to her sister Ingrith. She also intended to purchase all the various spices she’d noted in these foods, like saffron, cloves, turmeric, cardamom, nutmeg, cinnamon, cumin, mastic, and rosemary, which would surely please Ingrith.
Some of the offerings were strange and not for the simple palates of the Norsemen around her, but overall it was a feast fit for a king ... or, rather, an emperor.
Speaking of whom, even from this distance, John Tzimisces could be seen at the high table seated beside his bride under a golden canopy.
“Oh my!” she said, as she got her first good look at Theodora, the woman who would become empress. Actually, she had already been crowned empress days ago. In this country, oddly, a woman became empress even before the wedding ceremony. In any case, while the emperor was rather short and at least fifty years old, he was a finely built, handsome man with reddish-blond hair and neatly trimmed beard, and if she was not mistaken, piercing blue eyes.
But his bride was a different story.
“Yea, she is long in the tooth,” Sidroc said, reading her unspoken surprise. “At least matching the emperor in age, would be my guess.”
“It is interesting how fifty is long in the tooth for a woman, but no detraction from a man’s virility,” Ianthe commented.
“Hah! ’Tis the way of men throughout the world, whether they be Greek, Saxon, or Viking,” Drifa agreed. “Once a man gets a bit of gray in his beard, he starts looking at girls scarce out of swaddling clothes.”
The men all groaned, and Sidroc had the nerve to say. “Men age like good wine. Women age like vinegar.”
“Idiot,” she murmured. “Still, ’tis surprising that the emperor is marrying a woman past childbearing years. I thought heirs were of great importance in royal circles.”
“In this country, they castrate the younger boys in a family so they will not inherit, whether it be the crown or a family’s wealth,” Thork pointed out. “Can you imagine?”
All the men cringed at that image.
“No one would snip off my braw body parts, no matter my age,” Jamie asserted. “Even coming from the womb, I would bite the hand that dared touch my claymore.”
“Claymore!” the other men hooted with laughter.
“What is castrated?” Alrek wanted to know. “I know how horses are castrated betimes, but how ... oh my gods!”
“Precisely,” Wulf said.
“The reason that John marries is purely political. Theodora is of the powerful Phocas family, a direct line in the Macedonian dynasty. Furthermore, he is merely the regent emperor holding place for the young Basil and Constantine until they are of age,” Sidroc explained. “Having no love for court life, he is a military man at heart and that is where he would rather be.
“What is surprising to me is that a man of power and high regard, such as John, would wed a woman homely as a squashed bug,” observed Finn.
