The Sheen on the Silk

The Sheen on the Silk

by Anne Perry


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The Sheen on the Silk by Anne Perry

Arriving in Constantinople in 1273, Anna Zarides vows to prove the innocence of her twin brother, Justinian, who has been exiled to the desert for conspiring to kill a nobleman. Disguising herself as a eunuch named Anastasius, Anna moves freely about in society, maneuvering close to the key players involved in her brother’s fate, including Zoe Chrysaphes, a devious noblewoman with her own hidden agenda, and Giuliano Dandolo, a ship’s captain conflicted by his growing feelings for Anastasius. As leaders in Rome and Venice plot to invade Constantinople in another Crusade to capture the Holy Land, Anna’s discoveries draw her inextricably closer to the dangers of the emperor’s treacherous court—where it seems that no one is exactly who he or she appears to be.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780345500663
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Publication date: 01/25/2011
Pages: 528
Sales rank: 409,088
Product dimensions: 5.40(w) x 8.10(h) x 1.30(d)

About the Author

Anne Perry is the bestselling author of two acclaimed series set in Victorian England: the William Monk novels, including Dark Assassin and The Shifting Tide, and the Charlotte and Thomas Pitt novels, including Buckingham Palace Gardens and Long Spoon Lane. She is also the author of the World War I novels No Graves As Yet, Shoulder the Sky, Angels in the Gloom, At Some Disputed Barricade,and We Shall Not Sleep, as well as six holiday novels, most recently A Christmas Grace. Anne Perry lives in Scotland.

From the Hardcover edition.


Portmahomack, Ross-shire, U.K

Date of Birth:

October 28, 1938

Place of Birth:

Blackheath, London England

Read an Excerpt

Anna Zarides stood on the stone pier and gazed across the dark waters of the Bosphorus toward the lighthouse of Constantinople. Its fires lit the sky with a great beacon outlined against the paling March stars. It was beautiful, but she was waiting for the dawn to show her the city's rooftops and, one by one, all the marvelous palaces, churches, and towers she knew must be there.
The wind was chill off the waves, whose crests were only barely visible. She heard the sound of them sucking and hissing on the pebbles. Far away on the promontory the first rays of daylight caught a massive dome, a hundred, two hundred feet high. It glowed a dull red, as if with its own inner fire. It had to be the Hagia Sophia, the greatest church in the world, not only the most beautiful, but the heart and soul of the Christian faith.
Anna stared at it as the light strengthened. Other rooftops grew clearer, a jumble of angles, towers, and domes. To the left of the Hagia Sophia she saw four tall, slender columns, like needles against the horizon. She knew what they were, monuments to some of the greatest emperors of the past. The imperial palaces must be there, too, and the Hippodrome, but all she could see were shadows, white gleams of marble here and there, more trees, and the endless roofs of a city larger than Rome or Alexandria, Jerusalem or Athens.
She saw the narrow stretch of the Bosphorus clearly now, already growing busy with ships. With an effort she made out the vast battlements of the shoreline, and something of the harbors below them, crowded with indistinguishable hulls and masts, all riding the safe calm within the breakwaters.
The sun was rising, the sky a pale, luminescent arch shot with fire. 
To the north, the curved inlet of the Golden Horn was molten bronze between its banks-a beautiful spring morning.
The first ferry of the day was making its way toward them. Worried once again how she would appear to strangers, Anna walked over to the edge of the pier and stared down at the still water in the shelter of the stone. She saw her own reflection: steady gray eyes, strong but vulnerable face, high cheekbones, and soft mouth. Her bright hair was jaw length, not dressed and ornamented like a woman's, and with no veil to hide it.
The ferry, a light, wooden boat big enough to carry half a dozen passengers, was less than a hundred yards away now. The oarsman was fighting the stiff breeze and the perverse currents, treacherous here at the narrows where Europe met Asia. She took a deep breath, feeling the bandages tight around her chest and the slight padding at her waist that concealed her woman's shape. In spite of all her practice, it still felt awkward. She shivered, pulling her cloak closer.
"No," Leo said from behind her.
"What's wrong?" She turned to look at him. He was tall, slender- shouldered, and round-faced, with hairless cheeks. His brow was furrowed with anxiety.
"The gesture," the eunuch replied gently. "Don't give in to the cold like a woman."
She jerked away, furious with herself for making such a stupid mistake. She was endangering them all.
"Are you still sure?" Simonis asked, her voice brittle. "It's not too late to . . . to change your mind."
"I'll get it right," Anna said firmly.
"You can't afford mistakes, Anastasius." Leo deliberately used the name Anna had chosen to take. "You would be punished for masquerading as a man-even a eunuch."
"Then I mustn't get caught," she said simply.
She had known it would be difficult. But at least one woman had succeeded in the past. Her name was Marina, and she had entered a monastery as a eunuch. No one had known differently until after her death.
Anna nearly asked Leo if he wished to go back, but it would be insulting, and he did not deserve that. Anyway, she needed to observe and mimic him.
The ferry reached the dock and the oarsman stood up with the peculiar grace of one accustomed to the sea. Young and handsome, he threw a rope around the stanchion, then stepped up onto the boards of the dockside, smiling.
About to smile back, Anna remembered not to only just in time. She let go of her cloak, allowing the wind to chill her, and the boatman passed by her to offer his hand to Simonis, who was older, plumper, and obviously a woman. Anna followed, taking her seat in the ferry. 
Leo came last, loading their few boxes, which held her precious medicines, herbs, and instruments. The oarsman took his place again and they moved out into the current.
Anna did not look behind. She had left everything that was familiar, and she had no idea when she would see it again. But it was only the task ahead that mattered.
They were far out into the current now. Rising sheer from the waterline like a cliff was the wreckage of the seawalls breached by the Latin crusaders who had looted and burned the city seventy years ago and driven its people into exile. She looked at it now, soaring up as vast as if it had been built by nature rather than man, and wondered how anyone could have dared to attack it, never mind succeeded.
She held on to the gunwale and twisted in her seat to look left and right at the magnitude of the city. It seemed to cover every rock face, inlet, and hillside. The rooftops were so close, they gave the illusion you could walk from one to another.
The oarsman was smiling, amused at her wonder. She felt herself coloring at her naiveté and turned away.
They were now close enough to the city that she could see the broken stones, the thready outlines of weeds, and the darker scars of fire. 
She was startled how raw it looked, even though eleven years had passed since 1262, when Michael Palaeologus had led the people of Constantinople back home from the provinces where they had been driven.
Now Anna too was here, for the first time in her life, and for all the wrong reasons.
The oarsman strained against the wash that rocked them hard as a trireme went past, bound for the open sea. It was high-sided, three tiers of oars dipping and rising, water running bright from their blades. Beyond it were two other boats almost round, men busy furling their sails, scrambling to lash them fast enough so they could let down anchor in exactly the right place. She wondered if they had come from the Black Sea and what they had brought to sell or trade.
In the shelter of the breakwaters, the sea was calm. Someone somewhere laughed, and the sound carried across the water, above the slap of the waves and the cry of the gulls.
The ferryman guided their way to the quayside and bumped gently against the stones. She paid him four copper folleis, meeting his eyes for no more than a moment, then rose and stepped ashore, leaving him to assist Simonis.
They must hire transport for the boxes, then find an inn to offer them food and shelter until she could look for a house to rent and set up her practice. She would have no help here, no recommendations as she would have had from her father's good name at home in Nicea, the ancient, magnificent capital of Bithynia across the Bosphorus to the southeast. It was only a day's ride away,  yet Constantinople was a new world for her. Apart from Leo and Simonis, she was alone. Their loyalty was absolute. Even knowing the truth, they had come with her.
She started along the worn stones of the quayside, making a path between bales of wool, carpets, raw silk, piles of crockery, slabs of marble, exotic woods, and smaller bags that gave off the odors of exotic spices. Heavy in the air were also the less pleasant smells of fish, hides, human sweat, and animal dung.
Twice she turned around to make certain Leo and Simonis were both still with her.
She had grown up knowing that Constantinople was the center of the world, the crossroads of Europe and Asia, and she was proud of it, but now the babel of alien voices in among the Byzantines' native Greek, the teeming, anonymous busyness of it, overwhelmed her.
A bare-chested man with gleaming skin and a sack across his shoulders weighing him down bumped into her and muttered something before staggering on. A tinker laden with pan and kettles laughed loudly and spat on the ground. A turbaned Muslim in a black silk robe walked by without a sound.
Anna stepped off the uneven cobbles and crossed the street, Leo and Simonis close behind. The buildings on the landward side were four or five stories high and the alleys between them narrower than she had expected. The smells of salt and stale wine were heavy and unpleasant, and the noise even here made speaking difficult. She led the way up the hill a little farther from the wharfside.
There were shops to left and right, living quarters above apparent from the laundry hanging from windows. A hundred yards inland, it was quieter. They passed a bakery, and the smell of fresh bread made her suddenly think of home.
They were still climbing upward, and her arms ached from carrying her medical supplies. Leo must be even more exhausted because he had the heavier boxes, and Simonis carried a bag of clothes.
She stopped and let her case drop for a moment. "We must find somewhere for tonight. At least to leave our belongings. And we need to eat. It is more than five hours since breakfast."
"Six," Simonis observed. "I've never seen so many people in my life."
"Do you want me to carry that?" Leo asked, but his face looked tired and he already had far more weight than either Simonis or Anna.
In answer, Simonis picked up her bag again and started forward.
A hundred yards farther, they found an excellent inn that served food. 
It had good mattresses stuffed with goose down and was furnished with linen sheets. Each room had a basin large enough for bathing and a latrine with a tile drain. It was eight folleis each, per night, not including meals. That was expensive, but Anna doubted others would be much cheaper.
She dreaded going out in case she made another mistake, another womanish gesture, expression, or even lack of reaction in some way. 
One error would be enough to make people look harder and perhaps see the differences between her and a real eunuch.
They ate a lunch of fresh gray mullet and wheat bread at a tavern and asked a few discreet questions about cheaper lodgings.
"Oh, inland," a fellow diner told them cheerfully. He was a little gray-haired man in a worn tunic that came no farther than his knees, his legs bound with cloth to keep him warm but leaving him unencumbered for work. "Farther west you go, cheaper they are. You strangers here?"
There was no point in denying it. "From Nicea," Anna told him.
"I'm from Sestos myself." The man gave them a gap-toothed grin. "But everyone comes here, sooner or later."
Anna thanked him, and the following day they hired a donkey to carry their cases and moved to a cheaper inn close to the western edge of the city by the land walls, not far from the Gate of Charisius.
That night, she lay in her bed listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the city around her. This was Constantinople, the heart of Byzantium. 
She had heard stories of it all her life, from her parents and her grandparents, but now that she was here it was so strange, too big for the imagination to grasp.
But she would accomplish nothing by remaining in her lodgings. 
Survival demanded that in the morning she go out and begin the search for a house from which she could establish her practice.
In spite of her tiredness, sleep did not come easily, and her dreams were crowded with strange faces and the fear of being lost.
She knew from her father's stories that Constantinople was surrounded by water on three sides, and that the main street, named Mese, was Y shaped. The two arms met at the Amastrianon Forum and continued east toward the sea. All the great buildings she had heard him speak of were along this stretch: the Hagia Sophia, the Forum of Constantine, the Hippodrome, the old imperial palaces, and of course shops with exquisite artifacts, silks, spices, and gems.
They set out in the morning, walking briskly. The air was fresh. Food shops were open, and at practically every corner bakeries were crowded with people, but they had no time to indulge themselves. They were still in the web of narrow streets that threaded the whole city from the calm water of the Golden Horn in the north to the Sea of Marmara in the south. Several times they had to stand aside to let donkey carts pass, piled high with goods for market, mostly fruit and vegetables.
They reached the wide stretch of Mese Street just as a camel swayed past them, high-headed, sour-faced, and a man hurried behind it, bent double under the weight of a bale of cotton. The thoroughfare teemed with people. In among the native Greeks she saw turbaned Muslims, Bulgars with close-cropped heads, dark-skinned Egyptians, blue-eyed Scandinavians, and high-cheeked Mongols. Anna wondered if they felt as strange here as she did, as awed by the size, the vitality, the jumble of vibrant colors in the clothes, on the shop awnings-purples and scarlets, blues and golds, half shades of aquamarine, wine red, and rose pink, wherever she looked.
She had no idea where to start. She needed to make inquiries and learn something about the different residential areas where she might find a house.
"We need a map," Leo said with a frown. "The city is far too big to know where we are without one."
"We need to be in a good residential district," Simonis added, probably thinking about the home they had left in Nicea. But she had willed to come almost as much as Anna herself. Justinian had always been her favorite, even though he and Anna were twins. Simonis had grieved when he left Nicea to come to Constantinople. When Anna had received that last, desperate letter about his exile, Simonis had thought of nothing but rescuing him, at any cost. It was Leo who had had the cooler head and wanted a plan first and who had cared so much for Anna's safety as well.

From the Hardcover edition.

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The Sheen on the Silk 3.4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 40 reviews.
EduK8R More than 1 year ago
The story in this book is compelling, the characters well-developed and the setting becomes real. However, while the author researched Byzantine politics well she appears to have left it at that and used more of her imagination than facts for her writings on the Orthodox church within the story. Whenever possible, the church is slandered, belittled or its members made to look more unchristian than the nonchristians in the story. If you can get past that, it's a good read. If you look at the actual historical events in the Orthodox Church at the time period, it's not nearly as portrayed in the story. It appears to be one more author out to smear anything to do with God and Church- like there isn't enough of that already?
Babette-dYveine More than 1 year ago
I have enjoyed several of Ms. Perry's books, particularly the ones set in Victorian times. I expected this one to be fascinating, based on the beautiful cover and the description on the book jacket. I was wrong -- it was slow-moving and very boring. I read about 100 pages and then quit. I didn't want to waste any more time. The descriptions were beautiful, but on practically every page, maybe even more than once, was a reference to Anna's disguise as a eunuch and who other eunuchs were. I don't think such repetition added anything to the story and really turned me off. I'll stick to Ms. Perry's Victorian novels from now on. Incidentally, I wouldn't have given it any stars, but it was required.
Shrdlu More than 1 year ago
Anne Perry The Sheen on the Silk Random House 2010 Anne Perry, who has a well deserved reputation as a writer of murder mysteries set in Victorian London, has expanded her canvas to the time of the battle for control of Christian thought and practice between the Roman Catholic Church in Rome and the Eastern Orthodox Church in Constantinople in the late Thirteen Century. The center of the action is Constantinople, but the larger stage also includes Rome, Venice, Jerusalem, the Sinai desert and Sicily. The characters are just as diversified, including rulers, Popes, merchants, soldiers and sailors. The players all have to be careful of both their words and deeds as the situation changes almost daily as a Roman Catholic Church threatens the Eastern Orthodox center of Constantinople, a city crusaders had ravaged 70 years earlier. In the process, Ms Perry enlghtens her readers on the powers possessed by the ubiquitous eunuchs who operated in positions of real power unrealized and unreachable by most others, as bishops, physicians, and aides to political, religious and merchant leaders. As a historian and an ordained minister in the Anglican Church in North America, I appreciate her attention to detail and her grasp of the complexities of bringing our religious convictions into a harmonious relationship with our all too human actions. In a novel that keeps the reader turning the pages, she weaves a rich tapestry of love, hate, treachery, and a struggle for both religious and temporal power into a novel well worth the reading. She fashions a powerful story of people who believe in themselves, their country and their religion so completely that they are driven to do things they would normally consider reprehensible. In this compelling drama we find people of faith on both sides of the struggle resorting to tactics which are forbidden by Christianity, yet convinced that the ends are justified by the means. In doing so, Ms Perry has revealed to us more about what we are willing to do for our beliefs than most of us would be willing to confess. This is particulary considering what people of faith have done since the attacks of 9/11. signed: The Rev. Robert V. Latour 326 Lindale
harstan More than 1 year ago
In 1273 physician Anna Zarides learns that her twin Justinian has been proclaimed guilty as a conspirator of murdering Bessarion Comnenos. She refuses to believe her sibling would kill the prominent politically connected victim, who was perhaps the most powerful opponent of the Byzantium Empire merging with Rome. Anna, dressed up as the eunuch Anastasius Zarides, crosses the Bosporus to Constantinople to find proof her brother, living in exile in Judea, is innocent. She quickly builds up a thriving medical practice among the traders as well as some of the influential people like Emperor Michael, Orthodox Bishop Constantine and the late Bessarion's mother-in-law Zoe Chrysaphes the poisoner. However, in spite of her growing clientele, Anna makes little progress in finding evidence to exonerate her sibling as the city's Christians are divided into factions over whether the Holy Ghost exists. The power struggle between the Pope, the Holy Roman Emperor and the Byzantium Emperor and others threaten the well being of the innocent. This is a powerful historical thriller in which the real major events of a critical but tumultuous era supersede the fictional cast and the whodunit. The story line is fast-paced due to all that is happening on the world stage while the inquiry moves along much slower as that serves more as a subplot mechanism to enable the audience to follow the religious and political turmoil. With a nod to Baudolino by Umberto Eco (though seven decades later); readers will relish a trip back in time to thirteenth century Constantinople, the cross between Rome and the Holy Land. Harriet Klausner
Dieverdog More than 1 year ago
I thought I'd love this since I'm such a fan of Anne Perry's other books set in Victorian London - and Constantinople sounds like a great historic setting. But so far this book isn't grabbing me. The mystery isn't compelling enough and the characters aren't pulling at my attention. I'm going to hang in there and give it a chance, but so far I'm thinking I will return to Victorian London with Ms. Perry for future reading. Her William Monk and Charlotte Pitt novels are just wonderful. This pales by comparison.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
About halfway through I find that I don't care about the characters, the plot, or the outcome of the conflict. Too long, boring characters and no plot.
Marek_S More than 1 year ago
The Sheen on the Silk is a fun read. It's long, there are a lot of characters involved, but it's an interesting look into the relationship between the Catholic Church and the Byzantine Empire. The story centers around a young woman, Anna, who travels to Byzantium to find out the circumstances surrounding her brother's exile.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
KaiE More than 1 year ago
"The Sheen on the Silk" is one of the most exquisitely written historical romance novels I've ever read and I average a book every 7 days. Anne Perry's ability to develop characters that live, breathe and come alive right off the pages into your bedroom, living room or wherever you love to read is a testament to her skill as a writer who creates a world so believable that you literally see yourself as a part of it. She masterfully creates a very visually animated and physical world that we part take in along with her characters. Different than Anne Rice who creates a movie that you can see through her words Anne Perry's ability to conjure within the reader the same emoional content that her characters experience is the beauty and genius of her particular brand of talent. I have bought 6 copies of the book and given to friends. I recommend "The Sheen on the Silk"to everyone I know who loves a great book.
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