'Very well. Show me the way into the city. If you can offer me Constantinople, then you will have everything you ask for and more.' Longo and Constantine stood on the wall above the Golden Gate, their eyes fixed upon the distant tent of the sultan. Sphrantzes and Dalmata had joined them, and they all waited in silence. Sphrantzes bit at his thumbnail, while Dalmata fingered the hilt of his sword. Constantine gripped the wall. Longo stood with his hands clasped tight behind his back. Finally, Notaras emerged from the tent. His polished armour flashed in the sun, making him recognizable even at this great distance. His horse was brought to him, and Notaras mounted.
'He is safe,' Constantine said. 'Thank God for that. The megadux is a difficult man. But he is brave, and his men love him. I do not know how we would have replaced him.'
Longo merely nodded. Notaras was not out of danger yet. A dozen mounted janissaries surrounded him and led the megadux some twenty yards from the sultan's tent. Then they stopped. 'Look,' Longo said. 'The sultan.' Mehmed had emerged from the tent, and all around him Turks were kneeling. A horse was brought to Mehmed, and he mounted and joined the group around Notaras. Together, they all set off at a trot, riding towards the walls of Constantinople.
'Perhaps the sultan is honouring the megadux by escorting him from his camp,' Sphrantzes suggested.
'Or perhaps Notaras is being led to his execution,' Dalmata countered grimly.
The group of horsemen had passed the Turkish fortifications now. They stopped just short of the range of the Christian cannons, turned to their left, and began to ride parallel to the walls. They were close enough now that Longo could make out their gestures. Notaras seemed to be pointing to the walls as he rode.
'What is he doing?' Constantine asked. Notaras brought his horse to a halt opposite the point where the single Blachernae wall met with the Theodosian double walls. A huge round tower stood at the juncture of the two walls. 'It is there,' Notaras called back to the sultan, who sat astride a horse some ten feet away. He pointed to the dark wedge of space formed where the curve of the tower met the Blachernae wall. 'There is a sally port called the Kerkoporta hidden by the curve of the tower. It allows troops to emerge and surprise anybody who is attacking the Blachernae wall.'
'That is all you have to show me?' Mehmed called back. 'What good will this do?'
'If you attack just before dawn in two day's time, I will see to it that your men find the door unlocked and unguarded,' Notaras replied. 'From there, your men can enter the city. They will attack the defenders from behind, and the city will fall.'
Mehmed rode his horse closer to Notaras. 'How do I know that this is not some trick? I see no door. Perhaps you hope to have my men ride into an ambush.'
'The Kerkoporta is there,' Notaras insisted. 'Come closer and I can point it out to you.' After a pause, Mehmed spurred his horse forward, so that he was now only a few feet from Notaras.
'Where is it?' the sultan asked.
Notaras leaned over and pointed with one hand, while his other hand slipped inside his armour. 'There.'
'Yes, I see it!' Mehmed said. The words had hardly escaped his lips when Notaras pulled a pouch from inside his breastplate and flung the contents at the sultan. A white cloud of powder enveloped Mehmed. He collapsed in his saddle and then fell from his horse, shaking and coughing violently. At the same time Notaras was pulled from his saddle from behind. He landed hard on his back, and before he could move he found Ulu's curved sword inches from his face. Out of the corner of his eye, Notaras could see that Mehmed had stopped moving. Notaras heard cheering coming from the walls of Constantinople. He smiled, then Ulu kicked him hard in the side.
'You will pay for this, dog,' Ulu growled. 'You will wish that you had never lived.' Halil had watched as Mehmed's motionless body was taken back to the sultan's tent, and then he had called a meeting of the army's generals for that night. Now, he watched from behind a curtain as one by one the generals filed into his tent. Only Ulu was missing. The generals shifted uncertainly and talked in hushed tones. They needed somebody to take command, Halil thought, to tell them what to do. They would be grateful to Halil for seizing power until the next sultan was of age. Halil let them wait a few minutes more and then entered.
'Greetings,' he began. 'I have called you here tonight to discuss what must be done in the wake of the sultan's death. These are dark times, but we cannot let ourselves forget the task at hand. The army is uncertain. We must show the men strength, despite this tragedy.'
'What are you suggesting?' Ishak Pasha asked. 'That we continue the siege even after the sultan's death?' Halil nodded. 'But how will we get the men to fight? Some of my men have already begun to pack.'
'My men have no stomach for a fight either,' added Mahmud Pasha, the bazibozouk commander. 'If I order them to fight, I will have a mutiny on my hands!'
'You are wrong, Mahmud Pasha,' Halil replied. 'If we let the men go, then we will have mutinies and chaos. Think! If we disband the army now and retreat, then we will be weak and defenceless. The Christians armies of Hungary and Poland are waiting for just such an opportunity to strike, and who knows if we can rally men to a child sultan? But if we stay and defeat Constantinople, then all the world will know of our strength.'
'But the men will only fight for a sultan,' Ishak Pasha insisted.
'And they will,' Halil said. 'They will fight for the memory of Mehmed. He began this siege. It was the great work of his reign. He would want us to see it to the end, to take vengeance for his death. Tell that to your men.'
'And who will command the attack without a sultan?' Ishak Pasha asked.
'I am the grand vizier,' Halil replied. 'It is my duty to rule until the next sultan is of age.' He met the eyes of the men around him, challenging them to question him, but none of the generals spoke. 'Very well, then. It is decided. I…' Halil was interrupted by the arrival of Ulu. 'What is it?' Halil snapped.
'The sultan wishes to see you, Grand Vizier.'
'The sultan?' Ishak Pasha asked. The other generals began to whisper amongst themselves. The blood drained from Halil's face. He felt as if he might be sick.
'What do you mean? The sultan is dead.'
'No, he lives,' Ulu replied. 'And he requests your presence immediately.'
'Very well. Tell the sultan that I will be there shortly,' Halil said. 'Generals, you may go.' As the generals filed out, Halil hurried into the inner chamber of his tent. He grabbed a sack of gold coins and poured it into a dish. It was customary to bring a gift when called suddenly into the sultan's presence. If the sultan wished merely to speak with you, then the gift would be a welcome reminder of your value. If the sultan was angry, then the gift might save your life. Halil only wished that he had something more lavish to bring.
As he stepped out of his tent, two janissaries grabbed his arms and pinned them behind his back. The dish fell from his hands, spilling coins everywhere. Ulu stepped forward and pulled a black cloth sack over Halil's head. The world went black, and Halil began to scream when a brutal punch to the stomach cut him short. The janissaries dragged him away, limp and unresisting. They were gone before the last of the coins had stopped rolling. When the sack was removed, Halil found himself face to face with the sultan. Halil was lying on a table, his hands, feet, and head tied down so that he could not move. Mehmed was standing over him. The sultan was pale, but other than that he looked no different than he had that morning. Halil swallowed nervously.
'What is the matter, Halil?' Mehmed asked. 'You look as if you have seen a ghost.'
'The poison,' Halil managed. 'How did you survive?'
'Have you not heard?' Mehmed asked, smiling. 'It is a miracle. Allah favours me. All my men believe it to be so. They are sure that now, with Allah on our side, the walls of Constantinople will fall.'