Longo stepped forward and clasped William's hand. 'I will be fine,' William said before Longo could begin. 'It's the city that you should be worried about, Longo. Keep it safe until I return.'
'Keep yourself safe,' Longo told William. 'Phlatanelas is a good man; do as he says. And remember, if you see a Turkish ship, run. You're going out to find help, not to defeat the Turks single-handedly.'
William nodded. 'I understand.' He looked across the ship to where the one Turkish member of the crew, Turan, was busy tying off the cable from the tugboat. William lowered his voice. 'This Turan, can we trust him?'
'Not all Turks are our enemies, William,' Longo said. 'His family has lived in Constantinople for generations. This is his home, and he will fight for it as hard as you or I. He speaks Turkish, too, and can interpret for you should you need it.'
'Longo!' Phlatanelas called as he crossed the deck to join them. 'Well met. Thank you again for offering your ship.'
'Of course,' Longo said, clasping the captain's arm. 'Keep her safe, and make Chios your first stop. My men there will be able to tell you where the Venetian ships are, if they are out there at all.'
'I will,' Phlatanelas said. 'And you, hold the city until we get back.' He released Longo's arm and went to the wheel.
Longo turned back to William. 'You should get away without trouble,' he said. 'On a night this dark, the Turks should take you for just another of their warships.' Beneath Longo, the ship had started to move forward, towed out into the Golden Horn. Longo grasped William's hand again and held it. 'Come back safe,' he told William.
'I will, and we will not fail you,' William replied. Then, Longo turned and leapt from the ship to the pier. He watched as the vessel made its slow way out into the estuary. William waved once from the poop deck and then turned to face the sea. Longo watched until first William, and then the entire ship, disappeared into the darkness.
'Never fear,' Tristo said, placing his hand on Longo's shoulder. 'He's a tough little bugger, William is. We'll see him again.'
Chapter 18
SATURDAY 5 AND SUNDAY 6 MAY 1453, EDIRNE: DAYS 35 AND 36 OF THE SIEGE
Sitt Hatun stood at the window of her bedchamber and looked out over the imperial palace and beyond to the river. In the hazy morning light she could just make out the heavily laden boats setting out to resupply the army at Constantinople. Seeing them, she thought of her trip to Manisa months ago, but then shook the thought from her head. There was no sense in dwelling on past misery. Those times were over. Now she was the bas haseki, mother of the sultan-to-be, with more money and more servants than she needed. She had everything that she desired.
She turned from the window to watch her son. Selim sat in the corner, playing quietly with Bayezid. The two young princes were a study in contrasts. Bayezid, now nearly four years old, was a solidly built, athletic child with fair skin and sandy brown hair. Already, it was clear that he would excel as a hunter and a warrior. Selim, one and a half years Bayezid's junior, was thin and frail, with olive skin and black hair. His face was gentle, but he had Mehmed's intelligent, piercing eyes. Although he was small for his age, Selim already displayed an insatiable curiosity that delighted his tutors.
Sitt Hatun smiled to see them together. Fate worked in strange ways, and none were stranger than this: that the son of Sitt Hatun's most bitter rival should become a regular in her household and the playmate of Selim. Bayezid's visits had grown more and more frequent over the past months, since Sitt Hatun first showed his nurse, Kacha, the secret passage leading from his bedroom to her apartments. Bayezid preferred Sitt Hatun's apartments to those of Gulbehar, and Sitt Hatun could hardly blame him. Kacha told her that Gulbehar often slept until noon, and that she spent much of her day at the hookah smoking hashish. And since Mehmed had left for Constantinople, Gulbehar's tirades, which echoed all the way to Sitt Hatun's chambers, had become an almost daily event. Little wonder that young Bayezid was eager to escape his mother's presence.
At first, Bayezid had come only at night when Gulbehar's household was asleep, but lately he had come in the mornings as well. Kacha covered for the young prince in his absence and hurried to inform Sitt Hatun if Bayezid's mother called for him. Despite herself, Sitt Hatun had grown fond of the child. At first, she had seen the boy merely as a tool to be used against Gulbehar, and had cultivated his friendship in order to turn him against his mother. But now she found that she cared for Bayezid almost as if he were her own son.
Sitt Hatun moved to her bed and sat down to watch Bayezid and Selim. They were playing with a set of carved pieces intended to represent the siege at Constantinople. There were towers, gates and sections of the wall, all of which could be fitted together. In addition, there were dozens of tiny figurines of Christian knights and Turkish soldiers. The entire set was carved from ivory, and the workmanship was exquisite. Mehmed had sent the set to Selim so that he could follow the siege and begin to learn military strategy.
Sitt Hatun watched as Bayezid helped Selim to piece together the wall of Constantinople. They had only been playing for a few minutes, but already the miniature wall stretched for four feet across the floor of the room. 'Now we need a tower,' Bayezid said. Selim found the appropriate piece, and Bayezid took it and set it into place. 'Now a gate.'
After Bayezid set the gate into place, Selim took up one of the figurines — a Turkish bey on horseback — and placed it in the gate. He turned and gestured proudly. 'Look, anne!' he said. Selim always called her his anne, or mamma. 'Father!'
Sitt Hatun smiled. 'That is very good, Selim.'
There was a knock at the door, and Kacha entered through the secret passage. 'Excuse me, My Lady,' she said. 'But Gulbehar has awakened and is calling for her son.' Bayezid pouted at this and sat down, his arms folded across his chest.
'I don't want to go,' he said.
'You must,' Sitt Hatun told him. 'Your mother will be angry if you do not return soon. And if she learns that you are here…' Sitt Hatun did not need to finish. Bayezid understood that if his visits were discovered, he would never see Sitt Hatun or Selim again.
The boy frowned, but he rose and went to the secret passage. He stopped at the door. 'I am a prince,' he said. 'Why can't I choose where I live? Why can't I choose my mother?'
Sitt Hatun shook her head sadly. 'There are some things that even princes cannot choose,' she told Bayezid. 'Now go. Farewell, little prince.'
Kacha took Bayezid's hand and led him away. After a moment, Selim came over to Sitt Hatun and placed his hand on his mother's knee. 'What's wrong, mother?'
Sitt Hatun realized that there were tears in her eyes. She had hardened herself against such sentimentality, but Bayezid's words had moved her. The boy deserved better than Gulbehar for a mother. But how could Sitt Hatun play mother to this boy when he would have to die in order for Selim to take the throne? She knew that she should use Bayezid or send him away. Loving him was not an option.
Sitt Hatun wiped her eyes and lifted Selim on to her lap. 'Nothing is wrong, my prince,' she told him. 'Nothing at all.' Isa stood in the shadowy entrance to a narrow alley and watched as night fell on a busy street in Edirne. Across the street from him stood a row of houses and merchants' shops, crowded close together. In the centre, looking no different from any of the other dingy, stuccoed buildings, was the house where his family was kept prisoner. Isa had not seen his wife and two children for nearly a year, but tonight he would be with them again. And this time, he would take them with him, far away from this accursed place. He had only one task to complete first. Once the young prince Bayezid was dead, Isa and his family would be free.