Siege

When she arrived in the great hall the tables were already crowded. Longo and Phlatanelas sat at the table of honour, to the right and left of Constantine. Sphrantzes and Dalmata also sat to the emperor's left, and Notaras and the Archbishop Leonard sat on his right. A steward guided Sofia to her seat to the right of the emperor, between Archbishop Leonard and the dull Grand Logothete, Metochites. Sofia pretended to listen to their discussion — a heated debate regarding the use of unleavened bread for communion — while trying to catch as much as she could of the conversation at the centre of the table. But she could make out little until late in the meal, when the great hall quieted and the toasts began.

Constantine stood first. 'To Signor Giustiniani and his brave men,' he said, raising his glass. 'May the example they have set today inspire us and lead us to victory!' There was much thumping of tables and hearty shouts of 'Hear! Hear!' as the guests downed their drinks.

Longo stood and offered a toast in return: 'To Constantinople, fairest city in the world, and to the people who have so graciously received us. It is an honour to fight beside you.' Again, there was a great deal of table thumping before glasses were drained.

A variety of toasts ensued: 'To the Turks, may they rot in hell!' 'To the Empire of the Romans!' 'To the Emperor!' 'To the Venetians!' 'To the Genoese!'

Archbishop Leonard, clearly far from sober after the rounds of toasting, stood unsteadily and added, 'To the Union and all that it has brought!' There was an uncomfortable silence, and then a round of mumbled voices echoed: 'To Union.' At least half of the guests did not drink the toast, which proved to be the last of the night. A cloud seemed to have come over the party.

'I only meant to point out that Union has already brought us Signor Giustiniani,' Archbishop Leonard grumbled as he sat down. 'More help is no doubt on the way. Surely that should make even the damned Synaxis happy.'

'What have you heard, Signor Giustiniani?' Notaras asked. 'Has the pope kept his word? Is there more help on the way?'

The hall quieted as all attention focused on Longo. 'The pope has called for a crusade,' Longo began.

'Ah, see!' Archbishop Leonard interjected.

'But the French and English kings refuse to fight, and the Hungarian army is bogged down with troubles of its own. I know of no other forces coming from Genoa or Venice.' The hall was silent. 'I could be wrong. My ships have been storm-bound at Chios for weeks, and we have heard little for some time now. Perhaps matters have changed.'

'Perhaps?' Notaras asked. 'That is all we have heard for months now. Perhaps the West will rally to our cause. Perhaps Venice will send its fleet. Perhaps the Hungarian army is on the move. Perhaps help is almost here. Meanwhile, there is nothing hypothetical about the sultan's army. It is there, just outside the walls, and promises alone will not defeat it!'

'Enough, Notaras,' Constantine said. 'This is a feast of celebration. Whether or not more help comes, Signor Giustiniani and his men are here now, as is the grain sent by the pope. This is cause for rejoicing! Come; bring more wine. Let us have music and dance. For tonight, at least, let us enjoy ourselves.'

The entrance of the musicians and scantily clad dancers was the signal for the women to leave. Sofia did not envy the men their drunken revelry, but she was sorry to go. She had hoped to speak with Longo, although she was unsure what she would say to him. She rose from the table, bowed to the emperor, and exited via the narrow, torchlit hallway leading to her suites.

'Princess Sofia,' a familiar voice called, and she turned. It was Longo. 'I was sorry to see you leave. I had hoped to speak with you.'

Sofia blushed. 'And what did you wish to speak about, Signor Giustiniani?'

'Please, do not stand on formality. Call me Longo.'

'I should not even be speaking to you here, alone,' Sofia said. 'And besides, you will surely be missed.'

Longo shrugged. 'Nobody will miss me; their eyes are on the dancing girls. But if you do not wish to speak, then I understand. Please, forgive my impertinence.' He turned to go, but Sofia touched his arm, stopping him.

'No, stay,' she said. 'I wished to speak with you as well. And I can surely trust the honour of a married man.'

'You can trust my honour, Princess, but I am not married. Julia died in childbirth more than a year past.'

'I am sorry. She was so young.'

'Too young,' Longo agreed. 'But perhaps it is all part of God's plan. Were it not for her death, I might not be here. She was the last link holding me to Genoa.'

'And now that you are free, you have come to honour your promise to Constantine?'

Longo paused. 'Yes, that is why I am here,' he said finally and looked away. They both fell silent. 'But what of you?' he eventually asked. 'Is one of the men you sat beside your husband-to-be?'

Sofia laughed, thinking of the boorish Metochites and drunk Archbishop Leonard. 'Fortunately, no,' she said. 'I am engaged to Megadux Lucas Notaras.'

'He is a lucky man,' Longo said. He took a step towards her, so that no more than a foot remained between them. Sofia's heart began to pound in her chest and her breathing quickened. 'I wished to speak with you about Corsica,' Longo said. 'I have thought much about that night.'

'As have I,' Sofia replied.

'Ahem!' It was Notaras, stepping into the hallway behind them. Longo and Sofia stepped quickly apart. 'Signor Giustiniani, I see that you have met my betrothed, the Princess Sofia. I am the megadux, Lucas Notaras, the commander of the emperor's forces.'

'I am most pleased to meet you, Megadux,' Longo told him, and the two men clasped hands. 'The Princess Sofia spoke well of you.'

'Did she?' Notaras said. 'I was not aware that you two were on familiar terms.'

'We met briefly, in Italy,' Longo explained.

'Ah, very interesting,' Notaras said. 'You will have to tell me all about it, Sofia. Come. I will take you to your quarters. It is not proper for a young princess to walk the halls unescorted.' He took Sofia by the arm. 'Signor Giustiniani, good night.' The emperor greeted Longo as soon as he stepped back into the great hall. 'Signor Giustiniani,' Constantine said, 'I need to speak with you alone. Come with me.' Constantine led Longo through the passageway behind the hall and out into an interior garden. The garden was quiet, the many flowers silver in the moonlight, the air filled with their heady perfume. The emperor picked a rose blossom as they walked and examined it. 'It is wonderful, is it not, that flowers know neither peace nor war, only sunshine and rain. An enviable state, no? This rose bush blooms as it has every spring. It would bloom just as beautifully for a sultan as for an emperor.' In the distance, they could hear the occasional boom of Turkish cannons. The emperor dropped the flower and turned to face Longo. 'I have asked you here so that we may talk freely.'

'And what is it that you wish to speak of, Emperor?'

'First, I wish to thank you, man to man, for coming to our aid. The endless bombardment and this infernal waiting have been driving us mad. The soldiers quarrel daily. The Venetians and the Genoese cannot abide one another, and many of my Roman troops refuse to fight beside either of them. Your victory today has lightened our spirits and inspired us all. Romans, Venetians and Genoese were all united in celebration of your arrival. It is truly a blessing.'

'I told you long ago that my sword was at your service should you ever have need of it,' Longo said. 'I am a man of my word. I would not leave you to fight this battle alone.'

'I am glad that you have come, for I do indeed have need of your sword, and your wisdom too, Signor Giustiniani,' Constantine said. 'I understand that you have experience with siege warfare.'

'I was at the siege of Belgrade in 1440, where we held off the armies of the sultan. If you need counsel, then I will be happy to offer it.'