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'Sorry, love, duty calls,' Tristo told her. He caught William's disapproving glare and spread his hands. 'What? You can play the saint while our wives are back on Chios, but I don't have it in me. Besides, she reminds me of Maria. That means I'm faithful at heart.' William laughed. Shaking his head, he led the way down the stairs.

He was on the final step when he stopped short. A man had just entered the brothel, and there was something familiar about his darkly tanned face. The man stopped just inside the doorway and returned William's stare. It was Carlos, the Spanish assassin that had tried to kill both Longo and William in Genoa.

'Mother of God, I don't believe it,' William whispered to himself. 'He's alive.' He had no sooner spoken than the assassin turned and ran. 'Come on, Tristo!' William yelled, drawing his sword and running after the Spaniard. 'We've got to catch him!' Tristo followed, running as fast as his bulk would allow. William was beginning to gain on the Spaniard when he turned the corner ahead. William rounded the corner after him and stopped. He found himself standing before a street market. Carts full of goods were set up all along either side of the street, and several dozen women and children milled about in the space between. His quarry had disappeared amidst the crowd.

'What now?' Tristo huffed as he caught up to William.

William caught a glimpse of the Spaniard, dodging through the crowd twenty yards ahead. 'There!' he shouted. 'You take the right, I'll take the left.' They split up, and William pushed his way through the crowd on the left-hand side of the street. He was about halfway through the market when he caught the glimmer of a blade out of the corner of his eye. He ducked and rolled just in time as a sword flashed over his head. William sprang to his feet to see the Spaniard hurrying away into the crowd. 'Tristo! Over here!' William shouted as he gave chase.

Ahead of him, the assassin slipped out of the crowd and turned into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. William followed. After only twenty feet the passage ended at a tall wall, but there was no sign of Carlos. There were no doors, nor even any windows in either of the buildings that formed the sides of the passage. There was no way out at all, yet the Spaniard was gone.

Seconds later, Tristo arrived. 'Where did he go?' he panted.

'I don't know.'

'Who was he?'

'The assassin that Paolo Grimaldi hired to kill Longo and me,' William answered. 'Apparently, he has come to finish the job.'

'Well, lucky for him then that he got away.'

'Lucky for him, and bad for us,' William agreed. 'Now come on. We've wasted enough time already.' Longo was standing on the inner wall at the military gate of Saint Romanus, overseeing the further reinforcement of the Mesoteichion stockade, when he saw William hurrying along the wall towards him. Not ten minutes earlier, Longo had heard the muted rumbling as the charges had gone off, destroying the tunnel beneath the walls. William looked to have come straight from the destruction of the tunnel. He had cleaned his face and hands, but the rest of him was covered in a thick layer of grey stone dust.

'Well met, William,' Longo said. 'The tunnel has been destroyed?'

'Yes,' William replied. 'We brought down the entire stretch from just past the wall to the tunnel's exit.'

'I heard the explosion from up here,' Longo said. 'It caused a great stir in the Turkish camp. Even our own men were unnerved. I heard two Greeks arguing over whether thunder on a clear day was a good or bad omen.'

'And what did they decide?'

Longo smiled. 'I am happy to report that it is a good omen. It means that God is on our side.' A grimace replaced his smile. 'And we shall have need of Him tonight when the Turks attack. It will be all we can do to hold the wall.' Longo glanced up at the sun, estimating the time. 'I must go to the palace to meet with the other commanders.'

'Wait,' William said. 'The Spanish assassin that Paolo sent to kill you lives. Tristo and I saw him while returning to the palace.'

'So much for good omens,' Longo said. 'I thought he was dead.' He looked again at the sun. 'But nothing can be done now. I must get to the palace. William, stay and watch over the men while I am gone. And watch yourself. The assassin is here for you, too.'

When Longo had arrived at the palace he allowed the other commanders to gather in the council room while he explained his plans to the emperor. When all were present, the two men went to the room, pausing at the closed door before entering. Longo gestured for the emperor to be quiet, and they both put their ears to the door. 'But he's a Latin!' they heard an angry voice say. Longo thought it might be Notaras. 'The city should be commanded by a Roman.'

'He knows more about the Turks than the rest of you combined. He fought at Sofia and Kossova, and…'

Another voice, perhaps Archbishop Leonard's, cut him off: 'He knows a bit too much about the Turks, if you ask me. I hear he was raised a janissary. How can we trust him?'

Constantine frowned, looking ready to storm into the room. Longo placed a hand on his shoulder and held him back. 'Let me deal with them,' he said. 'I will report to you after the meeting.' Constantine nodded, and Longo entered the room alone. Notaras was at the head of a large table around which stood Archbishop Leonard, Dalmata, the Venetian bailiff Minotto and a dozen other commanders. The men fell abruptly silent.

'Thank you for coming,' Longo began. 'I know that there are some of you who doubt Constantine's wisdom in appointing me commander. I myself asked him to take charge of the city's defences, but he refused. He has given me the command, and I will not fail him.' He paused, and no one interrupted him. That was a good sign. 'I understand your concerns. I am not a Roman; it is true. But I am Christian, as are you. I will organize the defence, but it is you who must save this city. I cannot do it alone. None of us can. We must fight together, Romans, Venetians, Genoese and even Turks. All who call this city home must defend it as brothers. Are we agreed?'

They all nodded or added their murmured assent. 'Good, then we may begin,' Longo said. 'I have learned that the Turks will attack this very night, as soon as darkness falls.'

'Are you certain?' Notaras asked. 'I have heard nothing of this.'

'I assure you, my information is reliable,' Longo told him. He was reluctant to reveal how he knew of the Turks' plans. The tunnel had been destroyed, but there might be others. The fewer who knew about them, the better.

'What if this information is a ruse?' Notaras insisted.

'A night keeping watch will do our men no harm,' Longo replied. 'The Turks are counting on the element of surprise to overwhelm us. We must be ready for them.' The megadux nodded his head in consent, and Longo continued. 'We will place the majority of our forces along the land walls, keeping only enough men on the sea walls to call for help in the event of trouble. Archbishop Leonard, you will join the Langasco brothers in defending the walls where they run down into the Golden Horn. Minotto, you will defend the Imperial Palace and the Blachernae walls.'

'He spends enough time there, anyway. He's more interested in courting the palace ladies than fighting, if you ask me,' sniggered one of the Bocchiardo brothers, Troilo. He and his brothers, Paolo and Antonio, had arrived from Genoa several weeks before Longo. Longo had known and respected them for years, but he did not appreciate the interruption. He gave Troilo a cold stare.

Minotto ignored Troilo. 'I will be happy to take the post,' he said.

'Good,' Longo said. 'Bocchiardo brothers, you and your men will take up positions south of Minotto, where the Blachernae and Theodosian walls meet. You will share command of the Blachernae with Minotto.'

'With that Venetian prig?' Troilo objected. 'My men won't fight alongside Venetians!'