Lost Love Found (36 page)

“I remembered,” he said softly. Reaching into his doublet, he drew out a delicate gold chain from which hung a heart-shaped pink diamond surrounded by pearls. “Happy Birthday, Val,” he said, slipping it about her neck. Tipping her face up to his, he kissed her.

“Oh, Padraic!” Her arms went about his neck, and she kissed him back.

“Oh, Valentina!” he answered, and his lips found hers once again. Smiling down into her face, he said, “There is nothing about you that I will ever forget. Remember that when you make your decision, hinny love. Remember it!”

Chapter 8

T
he voyage across the Black Sea to Kaffa, capital city of the Crimean khanate, was as pleasant as the rest of their trip had been. The original inhabitants of the peninsula had been the Tauri, descendants of the Cimmerians. The Tauri were followed over the next thousand years by Greeks, Romans, Goths, Huns, Khazars, Byzantine Greeks, Mongols, and Genoese. The Tatars had entered the peninsula a hundred and twenty-five years earlier with the help of the Turks, whom they accepted as overlords in this area.

Kaffa had always been a merchant city. Once it had been a terminus of the overland route to China, and the city was a polyglot of races and religions. It had reached its zenith under the Genoese, but the rich minority merchant class of Kaffa had been cruel masters of the majority of poor. There had been, therefore, at least five serious uprisings in the last years of Genoese rule, which had ended on June 6, 1475.

The merchants of the city acted as middlemen to traders whose caravans arrived daily. They brokered everything from plain goods, such as grain, wax, fish, salt, wood, leather, honey, and cooking oil, to more exotic items like furs from Muscovy, wines from Greece, ivory from Africa, precious gemstones from Asia and India, fine cloth from Italy, caviar, and Asian musk. Kaffa was also the most important slave trade center for the entire khanate of the Crimea. Tens of thousands of captives passed through Kaffa’s slave markets on their way to Turkey and other Mediterranean and Black Sea destinations.

Valentina had expected a savage backwater. Instead she found Kaffa a bustling, beautiful city of busy streets and magnificent Italian architecture as seen in the towers, walls, and palaces of the city.

“It is not as prosperous as it once was,” Murrough told his cousin. “Since its fall to the Tatars and the Turks in 1475, Kaffa is but a shadow of its former self. Neither the Turks nor the Tatars have a knack for business. Conquest is their strength. Kaffa’s small continuing prosperity is due to the Jewish community, some remaining Genoese, and a few Venetians.”

They had no sooner docked when a gentleman hurried aboard. By the small skullcap on the back of his head, Valentina knew him for a Jew.

Murrough, smiling broadly, bowed to their visitor. “Levi Kira, I thought you might be here to greet us,” he said in Turkish.

The gentleman, very tall and thin with a most ascetic face, smiled broadly. It was a kind smile, wholly out of keeping with his solemn appearance, and it brought a warm light to his dark eyes. “Welcome again to Kaffa, Murrough O’Flaherty. My grandmother informed me of your coming. I am to tell you that the Turkish governor, Arslan Bey, awaits you as soon as you are able to come to the governor’s palace.”

“Does Javid Khan’s mother still live, Levi Kira? Will it be possible to see her?” Murrough asked.

“Borte Khatun is alive. She is not in the city, however. The Geray Tatars left two weeks ago for their summer trek. You will have to either wait until the autumn, when they return, or go after them—which could prove most dangerous. The renegade, Temur Khan, has been raiding this spring. We thought we had seen the last of him, for he disappeared several years ago, going toward the east. But he has returned like a bad dream to haunt us. Temur Khan seems to have more lives than a cat,” Levi Kira finished.

“I thought Temur Khan was dead!” Valentina burst out.

“My cousin, Lady Barrows,” Murrough said dryly.

Levi Kira nodded politely to Valentina. “Dead, my lady? Where did you hear such a thing? Would that it were true, for Temur Khan has cost every merchant in this city dearly with his pillaging of caravans. He steals our goods, which he then boldly sells back to us at inflated prices. He and his men rape and destroy valuable slaves without a thought. He is a violent, vicious man. Temur Khan dead? May it be from your mouth to Yahweh’s ear, my lady!”

“I understood, that he was killed years ago by the sultan’s janissaries after he murdered his brother, Prince Javid Khan, at the prince’s home outside Istanbul. Is that not so?” Valentina asked, thanking God and Murrough that she was able to speak Turkish so well.

“Alas, no, my lady. I remember hearing of that incident. The self-important janissaries believed they had killed Temur Khan, but they were so anxious to return to Istanbul with the story of their great victory that they neglected to decapitate their victims. After they had gone, Temur Khan and three of his men who also survived returned to the Crimea. He quickly built a new force, for there are always malcontents who are anxious to join with a man such as Temur Khan.”

“But why, if he is so cruel?” Valentina wondered aloud.

“Once, my lady, the Tatars were the roamers of the steppes. They did not live in cities as they do today. It was not that long ago, either. Now, the old Tatars tell their tales of a winter’s night, and the Tatar youths listen to those tales of their glorious past. Some, the restless, the discontented, cannot reconcile themselves to their present condition. It is not enough for them to raid Russia for slaves. They want more, and Temur Khan appeals to them. He gives no fealty to the Turks or any other. He does as he pleases, plundering and murdering, and there are young men who admire him for it and follow him. He professes to follow the old ways of the Tatar,” Levi Kira explained. “But he is a dangerous and evil man.”

“I
must
get to Javid Khan’s mother,” Valentina said to Murrough. “Let us go and see the Turkish governor now! Then we can start immediately. Today!”

Levi Kira looked at Murrough, amused. “Your cousin is an impatient lady,” he observed.

“Aye,” Murrough answered. “She is.” He turned his attention to Valentina. “You are
not
going to see the Turkish governor. Arslan Bey would be insulted if a mere woman demanded an audience with him,” he said. “
And
,” he continued, raising his hand to forestall protests, “we are not starting today. I am not easy in my mind about exposing you to the dangers of a journey on the steppes, particularly in light of the fact that Temur Khan is thereabouts. I must think on it. If I allow you to accompany us, it will only be because we have a goodly party to travel with, Val.”

Valentina knew she could not dispute Murrough’s judgment. “Then go and see the Ottoman governor,” she said. “I will await your return. But hurry, Murrough!”

Arslan Bey was known to Murrough O’Flaherty, for the captain had traveled the Black Sea trade lanes for many years, and Arslan Bey, a loyal civil servant of the sultan, had represented his master in Kaffa for fifteen years. He was a mild-mannered man with a taste for comfortable living and an open-minded practical nature. The two men greeted each other as old friends, and Murrough explained that his widowed cousin had a message that only she could deliver to the Great Khan’s mother. They had not realized, Murrough explained, that the Geray Tatars might not be in Kaffa.

“They persist in roaming the steppes every summer,” said Arslan Bey with a bemused expression. “I do not understand. In the winter, the steppes are bitter cold and extremely windy. In the summer they are no more hospitable, being arid and hot. Here in Kaffa the climate is mild and healthful, but nevertheless, between the second and third moons of spring, the Geray Tatars depart from Kaffa, their own capital, and we do not see them back here until the first and second moons of autumn.”

“Do you know where they go?” Murrough asked.

“Oh, yes,” the sultan’s governor replied. “I am always in touch with them.”

“Then perhaps you would help us. I will have to put a party together and travel to their camp with my cousin.”

“You would allow a woman to travel with you?” Arslan Bey was horrified. “Oh, no, no, no, my friend! It is much too dangerous for a helpless woman to travel to the camp of the Geray Tatars. Temur Khan is raiding this year!”

“I had thought to disguise my cousin as a young man,” Murrough said, “and she is quite competent at riding astride. Would it not be possible under those conditions to get to the Geray Tatars? We would be an armed party of men, no caravan of goods ripe for pillaging.”

“Aye, under those circumstances, it might be possible. Unless, of course, Temur Khan is spoiling for a fight at the time you choose to travel,” the governor noted. “I have a better idea, built upon your idea.”

“I am listening, Arslan Bey,” Murrough told him.

“Each week I send a party of six men to the encampment of the Geray Tatars, who move only about three times each season. I am always kept informed as to their whereabouts. The Great Khan and I conduct our business in this way, through my men, while he is away. I keep him informed about everything he needs to know, and he is able to communicate with me.”

“Temur Khan never bothers my men, for they carry nothing of value to him. Even the information they bear with them is easily obtainable elsewhere should Temur Khan desire it. My messengers depart tomorrow. What if you, your cousin, and one other take the place of three of my men and travel with them? I can offer you only three places. You would reach the Great Khan quickly and safely.”

Murrough thought a moment, then said, “Would there not be gossip regarding the replacement of three of your men by three strangers, Arslan Bey?”

“Not if no one knows,” the governor replied. “My men must report to me before they leave. You and your people will be brought into the palace secretly. You will replace three of the men who will be quietly concealed in the palace for the length of time it will take you to conclude your business with Borte Khatun and return. My own personal body slave, who is mute, will see to the comfort of those detained. He could not speak of the matter even if he desired to. The captain of this group will be told, just before he sets off for the steppes, to pick his two most trustworthy men. There will be no time for any gossip to escape into the city regarding this matter. I will supply you and your party with the proper clothing.”

“The sultan does not misplace his judgment in trusting you, Arslan Bey. You are an extremely clever man,” Murrough noted. “Let it be as you have said. I thank you kindly for your help. Instruct me as to how we are to enter the palace without being seen, and we shall be here at the appointed hour.”

The governor smiled, pleased at the flattery, and then said, “Give me today to make my arrangements. You must tell me, however, whether your cousin is large or small, tall or short, if I am to have the proper garb for her.” His tone indicated that he did not think a great deal of a woman who could be disguised as a man, let alone one able to ride astride. “And what of your other companion? Who will he be?”

“I shall choose one of my people when I return to the ship,” Murrough answered. “I have one of two men in mind, but I am not certain yet which one to choose. Both, however, are big men. As for my cousin, she is tall for a woman, about your height, I should say, and slender as well.”

“Look for my servant tomorrow. He will bring you what you will need as well as a message from me telling you how to enter the palace.”

The two men took their leave of each other, and Murrough returned to the ship to report on the interview. Valentina was delighted, but neither Padraic nor the earl looked pleased.

“Which of us is to go?” Lord Kempe demanded.

“You would both like to go, of course,” noted Murrough.

“Aye!” They said in unison.

“I, of course, must go,” Murrough said, “and so I will need one of you to remain behind to be the authority in command aboard the
Archangel
. Does one of you prefer that task?”

They glowered at him.

Murrough laughed. “I thought not. You will have to dice for it. The highest throw will win.”

“Why not simply choose one of them?” Valentina said.

“Because,” Murrough replied, “if I choose Padraic, then Tom will think I have favored him because he is my sibling. If I choose Tom, then Padraic will think that I am treating him like my ‘little’ brother instead of the man he is. By leaving it to chance, neither of your eager suitors has anyone to blame but fate.”

Valentina smiled. Her cousin was wise.

“Get the dice!” Padraic ordered Geoff, and the lad instantly complied.

“Give them to me,” Valentina said. Taking the ivories, she hid them behind her back, switching them from hand to hand until she was sure that neither man knew for certain in which hand the dice were. Holding out her tightly closed fists, she said, “Choose.”

“Right!” said the earl.

Valentina opened her hands to reveal the dice nestling within the palm of her left hand. “You have the first toss,” she told Padraic, who grinned broadly, extremely pleased.