Finally, the man bowed his head and dropped to one knee. “I agree, my prince.”
“Very good.” Lada waved him away. The soldiers directed him to the opposite exit, where he would join the ever-swelling ranks of her forces. She was approaching five thousand and hopeful for even more from Transylvania.
“Do we really want criminals for our army?” Nicolae asked. He sat nearby, though she had not asked him to join today’s session.
“We have had criminals for our nobility for centuries. Why not let criminals actually accomplish something for us?”
Nicolae sighed. “But will you really give them land after?”
“I give land to whomever I see fit. If it comes from me, they owe me everything. If I fall, they lose all they have gained. Do you see a better way to encourage loyalty among my people?”
Nicolae shrugged, grinning. But the grin felt off, faded and worn like his scar. Things had not been the same since he had questioned her. She felt the distance between them like the edge of a serrated blade. Move a finger along it slowly and it was merely uncomfortable. But move too fast and there would be blood.
“Why are you here, Nicolae? You should be training our new recruits.”
“There has been a letter.”
“Oh, a letter. That is new. Is it a proposal of marriage? Perhaps a careful admonishment to keep to my own borders and stop antagonizing our enemies? Or would someone like to congratulate me on my actions but do nothing to actually help us? I do so love these letters.” Lada sheathed a razor-sharp dagger at her wrist and pulled out the next one to be sharpened.
“It is from your brother.”
Lada sat up. “Clear the room.”
The soldiers pushed the remaining prisoners out, leaving only Bogdan and Nicolae.
“Where is Stefan?” Lada asked, holding out her hand.
“I do not know.” Nicolae passed her the letter. Radu had a new seal, something in swirling and stylized Arabic script. She crumbled the red wax to pieces before opening the letter.
Beloved Sister,
I write on behalf of his magnificence, the Hand of God on Earth, the emperor of Rome, the sultan of the glorious Ottoman Empire, Mehmed the Conqueror.
Lada marveled at the sheer weight of titles Mehmed had attached to himself. How did he walk with all those words trailing from his shoulders?
Recent events require a renewing of terms of Wallachia’s vassalage to the Ottoman Empire. To avoid a conflict you cannot hope to win, please attend to me at Giurgiu, where we can come to an agreement for how to go forward with friendship and peace. Preferably a friendship that includes significantly fewer impaled bodies.
Lada snorted a laugh, surprised by the flare of delight. There was her brother. There was the Radu hiding behind a new title, behind an empire that was not his own. She was hit with a pang of both melancholy and anger. She missed him. She had asked for his presence so long ago, but he was only coming now at the insistence of Mehmed, who correctly guessed that Radu was the only envoy not at risk of being sent back in a wooden box.
It was clever of him.
I will be awaiting your arrival. It has been too long, Sister. We have much to discuss, and I have missed you. Until we meet again soon,
Radu Bey
His handwriting, always elegant and meticulous, wobbled a bit around the words I have missed you. Was it because he was lying? Or because he was admitting a difficult truth?
Lada passed the letter to Nicolae and began pacing.
“Interesting,” he said upon finishing. “Far more civil than I expected, to be honest. Perhaps the little zealot still holds some affection for you, even now.”
Lada did not react, suspecting Nicolae was baiting her again.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I will meet my brother.”
“And will you accept new terms? Between your brother’s influence and the sultan’s leniency, I think we can secure the greatest terms Wallachia has ever had.” Nicolae sounded excited, his words rushing together. He had suggested the same thing in her rooms. This letter was proof that his ideas were correct. “Everything you have worked for will be rewarded. And all your people will benefit.”
Lada smiled, twisting her dagger to catch the light. “I will meet Radu. And I will bring him home.”
Nicolae sounded significantly less excited and far warier. “He said nothing about coming back to Tirgoviste.”
“No, he will not wish to.” Her grin spread. “We are going to kidnap my brother.”
“What?” Bogdan asked. “Why?”
Because he should have been hers regardless.
Because she missed him, and she hated him for that.
Because Bogdan wanted more than she could ever give him. Because she mistrusted Stefan. Because Nicolae’s questions festered under her skin. Because Petru, young and thickheaded but hers, was dead, killed by the boyars she had then eliminated in the dining room of this very castle. Because even after all this, she knew in the blood that flowed through her veins that she could trust Radu.
And because…Nicolae had been right. Lada was trying to pick a fight with Mehmed, even if she had not realized it before. She was not doing it for Wallachia. She did it for herself. For everything he had been to her. For all the ways he had failed her. She had Wallachia, and she would do everything she could to protect it, but she wanted to punish Mehmed. Kidnapping Radu—taking back the first, and the last, thing Mehmed had taken from her—might be enough to make him come to her when tens of thousands of bodies had not.
Just three bodies mattered. The same three that had always mattered.
Radu’s.
Lada’s.
And Mehmed’s.
Bursa
RADU COULD NOT GET off the boat fast enough. For once it was not because he was sick, but because of who was waiting for him. He had been at the bow, searching the horizon since dawn. As soon as he saw Bursa in the distance, it was all he could do not to jump out and swim. Knowing he would be far slower than the boat kept him onboard.
They drew closer, alongside the city—one he had visited with Nazira, before Constantinople—and the wind whipped at Radu’s face, as frenzied as his anticipation. Finally, they approached the dock.
Radu saw a familiar figure, as bright and welcome as spring.
He jumped over the side of the boat, landing hard on the dock. Nazira met him halfway. He threw his arms around her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her in a circle. He did not know whether he was laughing or crying. After a few minutes of embracing, Radu released her. He cupped her face in his hands and studied it. She was browner than she had been—evidence of more time in the sun than usual—and her clothes were in colors she would never have picked out for herself, but she looked healthy. There were no haunted hollows beneath her eyes, no suppressed terrors in the full sweet circle of her lips.
“Nazira, I—”
She put one hand over his mouth. “Please do not apologize. I know you. You have probably carried nothing but guilt all these months, tearing yourself apart. But you did it. You got us out safely. We survived, which means we are alive to heal and grow.”
Radu sighed, hanging his head and shifting her hand so it rested on his cheek. “The whole time we were in Constantinople together, that was my only prayer. That whatever else happened, you would be safe.”
“God is good,” Nazira said, smiling.
Radu had not looked for anyone else but Nazira. Now, however, with his heart filled to bursting at the sight of her healthy and well and alive, he had room to wonder. “Valentin and Cyprian, did they—”
“They are not here. But they are alive, too.”
A shudder passed through Radu. The release of the guilt and terror was a physical sensation, and he felt close to collapse. Nazira took his hand, as unwilling to le
t go of him as he was of her, and led him to a jumble of stones near the water where they could sit. They had last been here together watching Mehmed’s armada. Back when Radu thought he knew what the future held, when Constantinople was simply a goal. Not a blood-soaked reality.
Touching his turban, Nazira searched his face. “It is good to see you back in this. It is good to leave behind pretending.” She looked down at her own clothes. “Sometimes when I dream, I am still wearing the styles of Constantinople. When I wake up, I cannot breathe.”
She shook her head as though waking. “How is Fatima?”
Radu put an arm around her, drawing her close. He did not think he would ever let her go again. Except to give her to Fatima. “She is well,” he said, gently. “I sent word to her that I was bringing you back, but I did not have time to go and get her.”
Nazira wiped beneath her eyes. “I have missed her so much. But I knew that you would take care of her. It has made the missing bearable. It was simply sadness, not sadness and fear.”
“She never lost hope. She is made from it, I think.”
Nazira laughed and nodded, her head bobbing against Radu’s shoulder. “She is. She is my light that never goes out. And you are the glass that protects our flame.” Nazira kissed him on the cheek. “I have been in Bursa for three days. I waited here at the docks for each of them, knowing you would come. When Mara Brankovic’s man arrived to bring me here, I parted ways with Cyprian and Valentin. I do not know where they are now. I was sorry to leave them. They have become family.”
Radu knew they should go find horses to return to Fatima as fast as possible, but he was still unsteady and needed a few minutes for his body to accept the truth of Nazira’s safety. “Tell me everything that happened since you left. Please.”
“First, tell me: Did you save them? Constantine’s nephews?”
Radu nodded, gazing at the cloud-strewn sky above. He had left Nazira with Cyprian to go back into the city and save the two boys. It had been a gamble for all of them. Radu risked his life for what could have been a futile mission, and he risked Nazira’s by trusting Cyprian with her care even after Radu had revealed their treachery. But that had never felt like a risk. He had known then as he did now that Cyprian would never do anything to hurt them.
It was perhaps more than they deserved, and it made missing Cyprian hurt all the more. “I did. And they were spared the greater part of the carnage and terror. They are part of Mehmed’s court now, renamed Murad and Mesih. They are happy.”
Nazira squeezed his hand. She did not ask for details, and he would not offer them. She had seen enough during their flight to know better than to want more images from that nightmare. “I would say you did the right thing, but I think under those circumstances ‘right’ ceased to exist. You did a good thing, though. How is the city?”
“Flourishing. As we knew it would under Mehmed’s careful care.”
“And how is the sultan?”
Radu gently nudged her. “You do not have to speak as though you are a surgeon exploring a wound. I have had no one to talk to, no one who knows everything I am. Please let us drop all pretenses.”
Nazira nudged him back with her elbow. “Very well. How has it been, being reunited with him?”
“Do you remember when you told me being as great as he is makes him both more and less than a man? I have thought of that often. He is so isolated, by necessity. He refuses to fall into the same errors his father did. And he depends on me, and loves me even, in his own way. But this—what I have with you—has fed me more in the past few minutes than months at Mehmed’s side have.”
“I am sorry, then.”
“To be right?”
Nazira laughed. “It is a heavy burden, always being right. But some of us must bear it.”
“I am grateful you bear it for me, as I am not qualified to carry it myself.” Radu stood, holding out his hand. “Now come. We will get horses and supplies. And you still have told me nothing of what has transpired since I left you at the Golden Horn.”
“Brace yourself,” Nazira said. “It is a very good story. At least now that I know I have a happy ending, it is.”
They navigated the windy streets of Bursa, purchasing what they needed. Having the purse of the sultan helped speed the process remarkably. Nazira told her tale between their errands.
“We swam out to one of the abandoned small galleys. Cyprian was able to turn the sails to catch the wind, and we slipped out unnoticed amid the chaos. We decided to head for Cyprus. Cyprian wanted to dock earlier, but I refused. I was afraid that if we were caught by Ottoman forces, Cyprian would be killed. I knew you would want us to go farther rather than risk his life.”
Radu nodded, stroking the horse he had chosen as they waited for saddles and packs.
Nazira continued. “Our second day on the boat, things took a turn for the worse. We had no supplies, and in our exhausted state, we all fell asleep at the same time. A storm awakened us, and before we could direct the boat to shore, we capsized.
“Cyprian was hit hard. He went under. In the tempest I could not find him or Valentin. Then I saw the boy, clinging to the mast, his arms around Cyprian. Between the two of us, we managed to hang on long enough to drift to an island shore. But Valentin’s leg had been badly broken, and I could not tell the extent of Cyprian’s injuries.”
Even knowing all three had survived, Radu found himself holding his breath.
“I dragged Cyprian onto dry ground, and then went back to help Valentin. We waited out the storm under the shelter of some trees. When it finally passed, with Cyprian still unconscious, I ventured out to find help.
“There was none. No one. We managed to land on the loneliest island in all of Europe, I think.” She laughed lightly, but Radu knew it cost her to pretend it had not been terrifying. As they strapped the packs onto the horses, Nazira filled in details. The next few months she had taken care of Cyprian—he had wounded not only his head but also an ankle and a shoulder—and Valentin, while struggling to provide enough food and also cobble together a boat from the remnants of their old one.
“You never cease to astonish me,” Radu said, halfway through buckling his pack. He could not take his eyes from Nazira. She blushed, smiling coyly.
“I hope I can cease immediately, as I never wish to do anything quite so astonishing again. We finally made it from the island to the mainland and found a lonely farmstead. But they mistrusted us and wanted money, and we had none. They put us to work. When they decided we had earned enough to pay them back for feeding and sheltering us, I was allowed to walk to the next closest town—a full day away—where I could ask for help and information. Imagine my surprise at finding that someone had left word and was already looking for us! At first I feared it was because of Cyprian, that there was a price on his head, so I did not write you. I am sorry. I could not risk him being found. After everything we have been through, he is family. I take care of my family.”
“I know you do.” Radu finished cinching up his pack and helped Nazira mount her horse, then mounted his own.
“So I set up a meeting with the man who had left word, and waited. When he told me that Mara Brankovic was the one looking so intently, I assumed we would be safe. Her agent gave us a ride as far as a port where I could get passage to Bursa. That was where Cyprian and Valentin parted ways with me. I tried to get them to come, but…”
Radu did not force her to tell the hard truth. “After all my deception and my role in the fall of Constantinople, I cannot imagine they were eager to see me again. We used Cyprian terribly. I do not blame him for anything.”
“I told Cyprian everything.”
“What do you mean by everything?”
“I mean everything. He deserved nothing less than total honesty. He was angry. But more than that, he was hurt. He wanted to understand why we did what we did. How we could have lied to him for
that long. I told him of your childhood, how we met, what you did for me. I told him of Lada and your father. I told him what the empire offered you—safety, home, faith. Things you had never had. I told him why we were in the city as spies, what we actually did while we were there. I told him of Fatima and my own reasons for wanting security for both our empire and our faith. I told him what I thought the sultan would do with the city. And I told him of your relationship with Mehmed, both what it is and what it is not.”
Radu flinched, closing his eyes. He had already told Cyprian the hardest truth, of course: the truth of his duplicity. But knowing that Cyprian knew everything felt more intimate, more humiliating. How Cyprian must hate him! Finally, Radu nodded. “You made the right choice. He saved you in spite of everything.”
“He did not save me in spite of everything. He saved me because of everything. We may have entered Constantinople with false intentions, but our friendship was true. We saved his life several times over. And we did it because we loved him. I think he knows that.”
Radu sighed. “It does not matter. It is in the past. I hope he can forgive us someday, but that is a selfish hope. It is for myself, not for him. So instead I will hope he finds happiness somehow.”
“We can hope for nothing more and nothing less.”
Radu felt both heavier and lighter for the information. At least he had given Cyprian another chance at life. Without Radu, Cyprian surely would have died at his uncle’s side. Radu was glad knowing he was out there, somewhere. He tugged on the reins. “Come. There is a girl in Edirne who has been waiting a very long time.”
“I am going to hold her for weeks. You will have to feed us both, because I will not let her go for anything.”
Radu laughed. “It would be an honor.”
“And my brother?”
“He would have come, but we were on our way to Wallachia to bring Lada back. By force, if necessary. Kumal volunteered to see it through so I could get you.”
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