Authors: Kelly Gardiner
‘Why doesn’t anything ever work when you’re in a hurry?’
‘Give them here,’ he said.
‘Boats are not my area of expertise,’ I said.
‘So it would seem.’
He took the oars and sculled us quickly across the water, past huge galleys and fishing smacks, gilded embassy barges and working boats hauling timber and cattle. We reached the quay in just a few minutes, but it seemed an eternity. I scanned the shore behind us, but there was no sign of the guards or Colonel Orga.
Justinian hid the boat behind a boatbuilder’s workshop.
‘You’ve done this before,’ I said.
‘Many times.’
‘But why on earth would you need to hide a boat?’
‘Tell you later,’ he said. ‘This is not the time.’
We raced through the city gates, ran along winding alleyways and ducked between market stalls where women haggled over fish and fruits. There were people everywhere: leading donkeys laden with carpets, pushing carts, carrying great trays of bread. They all watched, wondered, shouted at us to slow down, to be careful. There was little hope of secrecy, but I struggled to keep the veil over my face. Sweat trickled down my forehead and the silk stuck to my skin, but I was glad of its thin film of disguise.
At last, we reached the edge of the Hippodrome and passed the great hulk of Sancta Sophia. There we paused.
‘We should keep moving,’ Justinian said, panting, his hands on his hips. ‘We’re too close to the palace here.’
I nodded, even though my chest ached with each breath. I doubted I could take another step.
‘I’m not used to running,’ I said.
‘But you aren’t afraid?’
‘I was much more terrified earlier today when I arrived at your house.’
‘Of me?’
I shrugged. ‘It seems ridiculous now. But I had no idea what you would do.’
‘Did you think I’d reject you?’
‘At the very least.’
‘How little you understood me, Isabella Hawkins,’ he said softly.
‘I understand now,’ I said.
‘At last.’ He reached across to straighten my veil. ‘We can be happy, you know.’
‘Except for the fact that we’re being chased around the city by ferocious janissaries?’
‘Ah, yes, except for that small detail.’
‘We need to hide.’
‘I know a place.’
‘Where?’
‘Trust me,’ he said.
‘I do.’
His smile flashed white.
There was a shout. ‘You there! Stop.’
A squad of the Sultan’s
kapici
clattered around the corner. Justinian pulled the dagger from his belt.
‘Stand back, Isabella.’
He moved in front of me, but I pulled the dagger from its scabbard beneath my cloak and stood beside him.
‘Do you know how to use that?’ he said.
‘Of course I do. I’m from Venice.’
The
kapici
formed a line across the open road.
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I think we’d better just run.’
‘Agreed.’
So we did. I had no idea where we were going, but ahead of me Justinian dodged around corners and through doorways. We ended up somewhere near the old sea walls.
‘In here.’ Justinian glanced around, then shoved open a door with his shoulder. ‘We should be safe.’
I stumbled down a hidden step and into a tiny room almost completely covered in piles of paper. In a corner, on a desk also strewn with papers, a candle had melted down to a stub.
I gulped air, my lungs burning, and clawed the veil away from my mouth. ‘I don’t think I can wear this a moment longer.’
Justinian closed the shutters, plunging the room into darkness. I heard him strike a light and fumble with a lantern. He placed it above the fireplace and turned to me, smiling.
‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘At last.’
‘So this is where you spend your evenings? What is this place?’
‘It was a deserted guard room, inside the old walls.’
‘And now?’ I asked.
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Tell me,’ I said. ‘And what Colonel Orga said about you all being spies — is that true?’
‘I’m afraid it is. But it’s not nearly as sinister as it sounds. We watch the shipping, report to London on the cargoes that come and go, military movements, that kind of thing. Nothing very interesting, believe me. Who better than a retired sailor and his sons to keep an eye on naval movements? That’s how I knew when your press arrived. In fact, it’s how I found out you were on your way here from Venice.’
‘Were you spying on me — on us?’
‘Of course not.’ He stood up straight, smashing his head on a low beam. ‘God’s truth! I always do that.’
‘Don’t change the subject.’
‘I’m not. I’m in pain.’ He rubbed his head. ‘You have no compassion.’
‘I’ll give you more than compassion in a moment, Justinian Jonson, if you don’t tell me where we are and what’s been going on.’
‘Sit down.’
I looked about me. ‘Where?’
‘I beg your pardon.’ He scooped the papers from a chair and pushed it towards me with his foot. ‘Take that. I’ll just …’
The sheets of paper in his arms started slipping, one by one, from his grip. I caught one as it fell.
‘And what’s this?’
‘A project of my own,’ he said. ‘Please don’t read it.’
I held the paper up in the yellow light.
The Catastrophe of War
, it read.
By a Young Gentleman of Kent
.
‘Did you write this?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Justin?’
He threw the papers onto the desk, where they fell in a heap and cascaded down onto the floor.
‘It really doesn’t matter now,’ he said.
‘About an hour ago we promised each other there would be no more secrets between us.’
He pushed his hair out of his eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ he began. ‘I don’t wish to keep it from you. It’s just —’
I looked down at the paper in my hand. It was typeset, with proofreading marks scrawled across it in his own untidy script.
‘You’ve had it printed already?’
‘I printed it myself. With the
signora
.’
‘What?’
‘She was going to tell you.’ He picked up a stray sheet of paper, crumpled it and threw it into the fireplace. ‘But it was too risky — for you, for my family, for everyone. I didn’t want to endanger you again. Cromwell will hate this, if he ever reads it.’
‘Then why do it?’
‘You know the answer to that, Isabella, better than anyone.’ He glanced at me. ‘We meant to tell you, I swear. But then all this madness started.’
‘Let me understand this,’ I said, finally sitting down. ‘You wrote a whole book —’
‘It’s just a pamphlet, really.’
‘Very well, a pamphlet.’
He nodded. ‘Only about fifty pages.’
‘I see. So you wrote a book, typeset, proofed and printed the entire thing, with my best friend, without telling me?’
‘Yes, I did.’ He gazed straight at me. ‘You’re angry. I understand that. In fact, I knew you would be. But we didn’t tell you about it because —’
I felt a flash of fury so violent I could have thrown his blessed papers in his face. I stood up so I could see his face more clearly. ‘You lied to me. Both of you.’
He held my stare and didn’t falter. Not for a second. ‘Yes. We did. Shall I tell you why?’
Both of his fists were clenched at his sides, as if he expected me to slap him. I looked at his face, the shadows under his eyes, his dusty coat. I could see the boy he had once been, the man he had become, and the years of pain and despair that lay between
the two. Between us. I saw, too, a reflection of my own fears and frailties, my weariness and righteous anger, and yearning.
He waited in silence.
‘No,’ I said softly. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything right now. I trust you. I trust Valentina. Whatever you’ve done, you did for good reason. That’s enough for me.’
He swallowed, and it seemed for just a moment that there were tears in his eyes.
Then someone hammered so hard on the door I thought it would break.
We held each other’s gaze.
‘I don’t suppose there’s another way out?’ I asked.
Justinian shook his head, his jaw clenched tight against fear.
I felt a bone-crushing ache in my chest, a ferocious urge to protect him with my life, with my death — anything.
‘I won’t let them hurt you,’ I said. ‘Not again.’
‘No matter what happens, Isabella …’
I reached up and drew his face close to mine, felt my lips touching his for a heartbeat, for a lifetime.
‘I know,’ I whispered. ‘I know.’
There was a shout from the street outside.
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Let them come.’
He slid the bolt back slowly and the door creaked open. Someone’s hand pushed it wider. A tall man in uniform greeted
Justinian with a nod, and closed the door behind him. He took off his feathered headdress and tucked it under one arm.
‘Captain Skender,’ I said.
‘Mistress Hawkins.’ He bowed. ‘You have led us a chase this morning.’
‘Forgive me,’ I said. ‘And please, if you can, tell the Sultan we never meant him any harm.’
‘Make yourself ready,’ he said. ‘Gather anything you wish to take with you.’
‘There’s nothing here,’ I said. ‘I’m ready to go with you. But you need to know that this young man has committed no crimes. His only fault was in trying to keep me safe. Will you tell him that?’
‘Tell who?’ said Captain Skender.
‘Why, Colonel Orga, of course.’
‘Hmm.’ Captain Skender took another step into the room, ducking under the low beam. He glanced at Justinian. ‘Don’t you hit your head on that?’
‘All the time,’ Justinian said.
‘You seem to misunderstand me,’ Captain Skender said to me. ‘I am not here to arrest you.’
I felt almost dizzy, as if my heart had stopped for a moment then started again. I reached out for Justinian’s hand.
‘Then?’
‘Colonel Orga will undoubtedly arrive soon,’ Captain Skender said. ‘But I imagine he will find the place empty, like every other one of your haunts he visits. There is a boat waiting for you on the fishermen’s jetty below. You will find that your friends’ ship was unavoidably delayed this morning by some missing paperwork, but it has weighed anchor now and will be passing out into open waters soon.’
‘We’d better go, then,’ Justinian said.
‘We have a few moments,’ said Captain Skender. He turned to me. ‘The Sultan has asked me to convey to you his very warmest regards.’
‘That’s very generous of him,’ I said. ‘Under the circumstances.’
‘The Sultan thinks of you as a sister and you are always welcome in his home — at least, once the present unhappiness has settled down.’
‘Do you think it will settle down?’ Justinian asked.
Captain Skender shrugged. ‘These things always do. The question is only how many people have to die or go into exile in the process.’
‘I fear for the Sultan,’ I said.
‘He will be safe,’ said Captain Skender. ‘I will see to that.’
‘I thank you for that, and for coming to give me the Sultan’s message.’
‘That’s not why I’m here, Mistress Hawkins,’ Captain Skender said.
I felt Justinian tense by my side.
‘I knew it,’ he said in English. ‘What’s going on?’
‘What is it that you want?’ I asked Skender.
His face was impossible to read. All those years of standing to attention in the shadows had taught him well.
‘The Sultan wishes you to take something with you,’ he said. ‘It is his most precious treasure, the greatest gift he has ever given anyone.’
‘Whatever it is, I dare not accept it,’ I said. ‘I’m not worthy. The Sultan does me too much honour.’
‘That’s true,’ said Captain Skender. ‘But I think, when you see this gift, you will change your mind. Wait here.’
He spun about, marched to the door, flung it open and shouted orders to someone on the other side.
‘This is our chance,’ Justinian whispered. ‘We could run.’
‘No.’
‘But —’
I heard a soft rustle of silk and all at once I realised what, or rather who, was the Sultan’s most precious treasure. Captain Skender led her into the room.
‘Princess Ay
e,’ I said.
‘Greetings, Isabella. My brother says I am to come with you.’
Behind her came a small figure wrapped in furs so that his face was barely visible.
‘Your Magnificence!’ I was too amazed to bow, but Justinian fell to his knees. ‘Colonel Orga said you were under guard in the palace.’
‘Colonel Orga is not in charge of everything,’ said the Sultan. ‘No matter what he says. But yes, my mother and I were detained briefly by his men. Luckily, my
kapici
are loyal.’
‘Loyal to the death,’ said Captain Skender.
‘Also, they have better uniforms,’ said the Sultan. ‘I like their feathers.’
Captain Skender stifled a smile.
‘Who is this man?’ asked the Sultan.
‘Your Magnificence,’ I said, ‘may I present to you Master Justinian Jonson of the English embassy.’
‘Is he your friend?’ said the Sultan.
‘Yes. He is my dear friend.’
‘You may rise, then, sir,’ said the Sultan. ‘This is not the time to be scrabbling on the floor.’
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked. ‘It’s not safe, surely?’
‘You are leaving,’ said the Sultan. ‘I had to see you. You must take my sister. Grandmother wants her dead. Perhaps she will kill my mother, too.’
I must have looked utterly astonished. I was, in truth. How could he know where we were? Was there anyone in Constantinople who didn’t know everything?
‘But, Your Magnificence —’
‘Please,’ he said. ‘Do this for me. It is the only way. My two most trusted guards will go with you and see you to the boat. Once you are out of Ottoman waters you will be safe, I think. I will send for Ay
e, one day, if I am still alive.’
‘You? They wouldn’t dare, surely?’
‘My grandmother is not content,’ he said. ‘I am not as obedient as she would like, so she wishes to replace me with someone even younger.’
‘How is that possible? You are the Sultan.’
‘Anything is possible. She had my father deposed, her own son. I see no reason why she would spare me.’
‘Then you must come with us, Your Magnificence,’ Justinian said.
He shook his head sadly, with all the gravity of an old man. ‘I cannot abandon my birthright, or my empire. Or my mother.’
‘The Valide Sultan must be stopped,’ I said. ‘We could tell —’
‘Who?’ said Ay
e. ‘The janissaries are completely loyal to her. So are the Black Eunuchs.’
‘My mother has a few guards of her own, but I can’t depend on them, or on her,’ said the Sultan. ‘I can only be certain of the loyalty of the
kapici
and the boys in the palace school.’
‘You think it will come to a fight?’ asked Justinian. ‘In the palace?’
‘It may,’ said the Sultan. ‘But these things are most often accomplished in the dark of night. Quietly, and with no fanfare. Then the next morning everyone goes about their business as if nothing happened. One day, I found myself on the throne, and my father was plunged back into the despair of the
kafes
. That is how it happens.’
‘Perhaps if you pretended to obey her,’ I said.
‘That would only add humiliation to my trials,’ he said. ‘No. I will stand up to her, as nobody ever has. She may be the Queen Regent, but she is only a woman.’
I opened my mouth to suggest that a woman, especially one with an army, was just as powerful as a man, but thought better of it.
‘That is all beside the point, Isabella,’ he said. ‘I asked you to take my sister to safety. Will you do it?’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘We will.’
‘Thank you.’
‘My brother did not, however, ask me if I was willing to go,’ said Ay
e.
‘But he’s right, it isn’t safe.’ I took her hand. ‘At the least, you’ll be married off to some caliph on the edge of the empire. You’ll be separated from your brother for all time. Or worse.’
She smiled sadly. ‘That is true. But it is hard.’
‘I know, believe me.’ I turned to face the Sultan. ‘What will you do?’
‘I will release my mother and we will gather our supporters,’ he said. ‘I will deal with this openly, in full view of the Divan and all the councillors. If there is to be a challenge, let it be honest and in the light of day.’
‘I can help you,’ I said.
‘You cannot. You will, I trust, be many leagues out at sea by then.’ He looked around him for the first time and grinned. ‘I must say, though, it is all rather exciting.’
‘Your Magnificence,’ I said, ‘forgive me.’ Then I wrapped my arms about the ruler of the Ottomans as if he was my own child.
He clung to me for just a moment. ‘I will never forget you,’ he said. ‘But now you must leave.’
Two of the
kapici
escorted us to a long boat in which several bags and trunks were neatly stacked, and pushed us away from the quay.
Justinian set to the oars. Within minutes, we were fifty yards out from shore and into rougher water. I could see the effort it took to keep the boat in motion: his back was bent, his long arms strained against the weight of the water.
‘This is how it should have been, all those years ago in London,’ he said. ‘You and me, rowing out together to escape.’
‘You’re having a lovely time, aren’t you?’
For the first time in an age, he threw back his head and laughed like a man without a care in the world. ‘You’re right. I am.’
I grinned. ‘I’m so glad you find it entertaining. Now, row.’
‘I obey.’
‘There’s our ship,’ said Ay
e, pointing.