*
So it was that Luke found himself riding towards the dazzle of a rising sun, alone and with no idea where he was going. The steppe was turning to furred gold and dew was rising in the finest of mists that hung above it like incense. The calls of carrion birds were loud above him as they began their search for what hadn’t survived the night. Hills rose in the distance.
He’d ridden hard at first, assuming pursuit, but none had come. He’d stopped in the darkness again and again, turning his head to listen for the sound of hooves on the hard ground. There’d been none. By dawn he knew he wasn’t being followed. But where to go now?
East. To Tamerlane. But first, some answers.
Once again he stopped his horse and turned in the saddle. He’d heard something. There was a cloud of dust in the distance. Someone was following him.
He wondered if he should ride on for the hills, to find the cover of trees. But if his pursuers meant him harm, why had they alerted him? Besides, it was at least a day’s ride to the hills. Luke saw that it was just one person riding towards him. He wondered why he’d ever imagined that she wouldn’t come.
Shulen.
She rode up to him, her little pony turning as she hauled on the reins. She was dressed for a long ride, with chaps strapped to her bare legs and provisions behind her on her saddle.
For a while they sat on their horses and just looked at each other. Then Luke spoke. ‘Are you finally going to speak to me?’
Her face remained impassive. She looked from him to the distant hills and then up at the sun. ‘Where were you thinking of going?’ she asked.
Luke looked around him at the emptiness that was the steppe. A light wind blew dust into the furred gold that hovered above it. Faraway, a bird called. Further, there might be answers.
‘To Yakub. I’m going to Kutahya.’
CHAPTER NINE
EDIRNE, AUTUMN 1398
The season was changing from yellow to gold and Anna was taking her ease among falling leaves in the harem garden of the palace at Edirne. It was almost two years since she’d come here and the passage of time had been made bearable by the discovery of new friends. She was with them now, watching a strange animal that had the mouth of a camel, the body of a horse and the eyelashes of a courtesan. Its forelegs were longer than its hind and its hooves were like a bullock’s. Its belly was white and its body gold and covered by large white rings. But those were not its most extraordinary feature.
‘The neck!’ cried Angelina, leaning over the pavilion’s balustrade, her hand to her mouth. ‘Have you ever seen anything like it?’
Maria thought that she had. ‘I saw it in a book once,’ she said, coming to lean beside her. ‘In Trebizond. A book of wonders. It’s called a jornufa and it eats only leaves.’
‘Or birds perhaps,’ laughed Anna, joining them. ‘Look at it nuzzling the cages in those trees. The poor things are terrified!’
The animal had ambled slowly to the wall of the harem garden, undisturbed by the giggling concubines who crowded as close as they dared. It had begun to pull branches from a tall tree on the other side of the wall and the caged birds were screaming their alarm.
‘Where has it come from?’ asked Maria.
Anna looked at the men trying to guide its progress with bamboo poles. It was early in the evening and the waning sun shimmered in the yellow folds of their pyjamas and turbans. Their black skins shone with exertion.
‘The Sultan in Cairo,’ she said with confidence. ‘The Mamluk Sultan has sent it as a gift to Bayezid. The jornufa must come from Africa.’
There was another shriek, this time from the bathing pool where other girls had been playing with a ball. The jornufa was approaching them.
‘It wants to drink!’ laughed Angelina, clapping her hands together. ‘Now we’ll see its face!’
The animal stopped by the side of the pool, its smile reflected among the lily pads and apples. The harem girls were lying naked on the grass, helpless with laughter.
‘Its horns! Look at its horns!’ cried Maria, moving to get a better view. ‘Like a young stag’s!’ She looked beyond the pool. ‘Speaking of which, where are the deer?’
The deer were cowering in a group against the far wall, necks erect and ears twitching with bewilderment. Above them was the balcony of the Valide Sultan, Gülçiçek, a woman bitter with age and spite who hated Anna with every nerve in her withered being. It was said that she was sick and Anna hoped, with all her heart, that she was close to death. Already, in her absence, the heady scent of rebellion was in the harem air. Anna had not seen her for weeks: not since the old witch had had her bed dragged on to her balcony to watch the punishment meted out to two Circassian girls. They had been caught in lesbian embrace – understandable given the Sultan’s indifference – and the Chief Eunuch had had them flogged.
Since then, Anna had taken charge and decided that the regime should be relaxed. Away had gone Gülçiçek’s word games and in had come games in the pool, races through the gardens and the rare sound of laughter.
‘He’s smiling!’ whispered Angelina, leaning to Anna’s ear and pointing, not at the jornufa, but at the Chief Eunuch. ‘He’s actually smiling. I never thought I’d see that!’
Neither did Anna. But then everything was so new suddenly. Angelina and Maria, for example. Captured at the field of Nicopolis, the two girls had been brought to the harem and, such was their beauty, Gülçiçek had had them instantly locked away. Angelina was the illegitimate daughter of King Sigismund of Hungary and her sixteen-year-old looks were famous throughout Europe. Maria was older, fair and from Trebizond, a niece of the Emperor, and no one knew why she’d been at Nicopolis at all. Anna was grateful to them both. Angelina had brought laughter and an indifference to protocol. Maria had brought oils.
‘What have you anointed me with, Maria?’ she asked, turning to the Greek. ‘I smell like a Persian whore.’
Maria smiled. ‘Many things. But mainly musk from Silingui, mixed with camphor and a little rhubarb.’
‘And it’s the musk that smells so?’
‘It is,’ replied Maria. ‘The Arabs will tell you that it’s among the scents that the blessed will breathe in heaven, along with Persian rose, basil from Samarcand, citron from Tapurastan, violets from Isfahan, saffron from Qom, water lilies from Sharvan, aloes from India and amber from Sikhr.’
‘So many!’ cried Angelina. ‘How will they manage their doe-eyed virgins in such a heady mix?’
‘Ah,’ replied Maria, lowering her voice, ‘musk is used for many things. The Chinese believe it to be an aphrodisiac. So perhaps they will manage.’
Anna asked: ‘Who taught you, Maria?’
‘I was taught by a cousin. She was the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. And she knew about every potion there is to make, especially love potions.’ She paused. ‘She eloped with a Venetian.’
There was noise from the other end of the garden where a gate led through to the main part of the palace. Two eunuchs with scimitars had hauled themselves to their feet and were adjusting their turbans. The Chief Eunuch was gesturing towards the jornufa.
‘This might be Suleyman,’ said Anna. ‘Do you want to go?’
Angelina squeezed her hand. ‘I am the daughter of the King of Hungary.’ She smiled. ‘I am not daunted by eldest sons.’
‘He might prefer you,’ said Anna, looking towards the gate.
‘Over you? No, he’s in love.’
It was Suleyman. He strode through the gate, stopped to look at the jornufa, and then shouted something at the eunuchs. The girls around the pool had seized their clothes and were already making their way to another gate. Suleyman marched through the fruit trees with his eyes fixed on the chiosk. Then he was standing at the top of the steps, breathing deeply.
Anna studied him with calm. He was the opposite of Luke. He was tall and wiry with a dark, high-ridged face that ended in a beard of pointed precision. Luke was fair and generous in face and dimension. She’d hardly s
een the Prince since he’d come to get her from Mistra. They said that he never left the siege, determined to do what no ruler of the House of Osman had yet been able to do: pluck the Red Apple from the tree of Byzantium.
‘I thought you said that you would never enter these walls again,’ he said, glancing at the two strangers before making the smallest of bows to Anna.
Anna rose from the bench. ‘Lord, may I present my friends to you?’
‘No,’ said Suleyman. ‘I wish to talk to you alone.’
*
In Kutahya, the stench of the Porsuk River reached over the walls and into every room of Yakub’s home. The palace had been built by his father, another Yakub, and sat on high ground. The river, since it was the height of summer, was low and the carcasses of fish and other animals littered its steep banks. Where there wasn’t death, there were chimney stacks built into the banks. Kutahya was expanding fast and its brick-kilns were working at full blast.
The smell of rotting fish and lime came in with the wind. It wafted in past the ruins of the Byzantine castle, past the domes and minarets of the city, past the pyred cremations of herbs that lined the palace walls. When it became unbearable, Yakub would leave the audience hall to receive visitors amongst the lemons and flowers of the little orchard surrounding the carp pools.
He was there now, dressed for the hunt with his high boots tided with dust and his shirt open to the waist. He was in a less-than-congenial mood. He’d spent the morning chasing boar and jackal in the hills to the north of the city and had not wanted to stop. Next to him sat a mastiff and greyhound, both silver-collared.
‘You’re supposed to be elsewhere,’ he growled. He was crouched by the side of the lake, throwing bread to the carp. He looked up.
Luke had changed since he’d last seen him after Nicopolis. He was thinner and his hair and beard longer. Both were bleached by the sun and his face bore the mark of the steppe: wind-blown and sun-blasted. It was as it should be, he thought. Luke looked like a gazi or, given his height, perhaps two.
Yakub picked up an arrow and began to wipe its head with a cloth. ‘Poison for the boar. Did you know that your emperor John Komnenos scratched himself on one of these and died?’
Luke didn’t answer.
‘Or that the Emperor Basil got his belt caught in an antler and was dragged for a mile to his death?’ He paused and looked up. ‘We have to hope that this emperor is less careless in the hunt. You do not like his plan?’
Luke shook his head. ‘It’s Plethon’s plan. I don’t understand it.’
Yakub’s hand went into his pocket and emerged with a biscuit. He broke it in two and gave a piece to each dog, patting both heads. ‘What’s there to understand? You learn how to ride and fight like a Mongol, then bring Tamerlane to fight Bayezid. That’s the plan. That’s all there ever was.’
‘Except that it isn’t working. Gomil wouldn’t let me ride and now I’ve killed him.’
Yakub nodded slowly. ‘I’d heard. But perhaps it’s for the good. Tamerlane is finally on the move and it’s time for you to go east. If the world thinks you dead, you’ll get there quicker.’
‘But it wasn’t me that died.’
‘Yes it was. You were executed for killing Gomil. If there’s no Luke, there’s no one to pursue. We’ll spread the news and you can go east without further delay.’
Suddenly Luke was angry. He’d spent two years in this man’s beylik and nearly died. He said: ‘I am not going anywhere until I’ve seen Anna.’
Yakub stopped wiping the arrow. Then he began again, more slowly. His voice was low. ‘Tamerlane is on the move. He wants to go to China. He must be persuaded otherwise.’
Luke said: ‘By me? Why not you, Yakub?’ There was silence while both men stared at each other. Luke continued. ‘You speak for the gazi tribes, I don’t.’
Yakub shook his head. ‘Tamerlane will not be persuaded by reason, only by someone he trusts.’
‘And why will he trust me?’
Yakub shrugged. ‘Because you are a warrior prince with a talent for making horses do what you want. It has already been seen at the camp.’
‘But I can’t speak for the gazi tribes who Tamerlane will need to defeat Bayezid. Only you can do that. Will you come with me?’
‘I will come with you as far as Tabriz. Bayezid wants me to go and talk to Qara Yusuf, chief of the Qara Qoyunlu, who rules from there. He wants to strengthen his borders with an alliance. I can’t go further without Bayezid suspecting.’
‘But I can because I’m dead.’ Luke paused. He looked down at his hands. ‘Yakub, I want to do what is best for my empire. But what about Constantinople? Can’t I be of help there?’
‘Constantinople is not your concern.’
Luke shook his head. ‘The city needs good engineers with good weapons and the money to make them. I have all three.’
Yakub scratched his chin. There was thick stubble beneath the curve of his moustache and the sound reached across the silence. The sun dappled the orchard grass around them and felt warm on his neck.
‘You can best serve your empire by going to Tamerlane. Now tell me what you need to go without further delay.’
Luke thought for a while. Then he said: ‘I want to see Anna, here, before I go. And I want my Varangian friends to join me for the journey.’
Yakub raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re making conditions?’
‘Yes I am.’
Yakub glowered at him. Then he shrugged. ‘The girl who brought you here, Shulen. She will travel east with you. She will help you.’
Luke remembered a time in a tent not long ago. He’d thought her a creature of Omar. Was she obeying Yakub instead? They’d hardly spoken on the fast ride to Kutahya.
‘She has already tried to help me. I don’t want that kind of help.’
Yakub’s face darkened. ‘She will go east with you. It is my condition.’
‘For seeing Anna?’
‘For seeing Anna.’
*
At that moment, Anna and Suleyman were watching the backs of Angelina and Maria as they walked away from the chiosk. ‘Do you know who they are?’ Anna asked, sitting again.
‘Do I care?’ asked the Prince.
‘Both are royal. They deserved some manners.’
Suleyman shrugged. ‘The King of Hungary is about to be a vassal and Trebizond will fall when we sneeze in its direction. I will expend manners where they are useful.’
The Prince walked over to the balcony and looked out. By now the jornufa had been led to the gate and there appeared to be debate as to how to get it to the other side. The deer were gingerly reoccupying the garden and one had even approached the bathing pool and was nibbling at an apple. The sun was low in the sky and little fingers of shadow were reaching towards Mecca. Suleyman joined his hands before him. He seemed irritated.
‘Is it your grandmother?’ Anna asked. ‘They say she’s very ill.’
‘Which should please you,’ said the Prince, addressing the garden.
Anna glanced up. ‘She wishes me harm. And the harem is a better place without her.’
The Prince turned. ‘Are you practising to be Valide?’ he asked unpleasantly. ‘Soon the birds will be free too.’
Anna looked away. She could hear the sound of deer nearby cropping grass. The evening was very still. Suleyman turned his back on the garden and folded his arms. He was wearing a tunic of dark blue damask embroidered with gold peacocks’ fans. The collar was lifted so that his long hair was splayed across his shoulders like a fan.
‘Luke Magoris is dead,’ he said.
Anna felt the sudden beat of a drum close to her heart. Four words. She blinked once. Twice. She looked away. The jornufa was being pushed through the gate now, its neck roped low by a minder. Soon they would be alone. She couldn’t hear anything except for a ringing in her ears.
A lie. It’s a lie.
‘He tried to rape the bride of the chief’s son, then killed him.’ Suleyman was watching her closel
y. ‘He was killed trying to escape. Yakub has just delivered the news.’
Relief. Rape. Luke? No.
Anna forced herself to look at Suleyman. It was a lie and it was clumsy. No. She felt herself recovering, her mind re-engaging. The lie had been told by Yakub so it was important. Somehow.
A lie for a purpose. I must lie too.
‘It was following a banquet. He must have been drunk.’ Suleyman shrugged. ‘Anyway, he’s dead. You can get the annulment of your marriage to Damian Mamonas. There is nothing to stop it now.’
Anna nodded slowly. The jornufa had left the garden and they were alone with caged birds in faraway trees and a smell of jasmine. ‘The Patriarch will need to be persuaded that my marriage to Damian was not consummated.’ Suleyman was watching her from beneath those hooded eyelids. She continued: ‘He will need to see me in person. I will have to enter Constantinople.’
Suleyman walked over and sat beside her on the bench. He took her hand and it was a dead thing without bone. He looked down at it. He’d arrived expecting resistance and there’d been none. She seemed more docile than he’d ever seen her. ‘I had thought as much. Yakub has offered to take you into the city as guard.’ He paused. ‘We will be married there,’ he said, his voice softer. ‘We’ll be married in Constantinople once it falls. Which it will, soon.’
Anna turned to look at him and saw the uncertainty spread like a map across his features, invading every line and contour of his face. She felt a sudden onrush of pity. She lifted her hand and brought her fingertips to his cheek, tracing the high ridge of bone that divided it. He looked up and grasped her hand and kissed it again and again until she pulled it away. Then he took her face between his palms and forced it up and his lips came down to hers and what had begun in Anna as pity was quickly turning to something else. She pulled away.
The Towers of Samarcand (The Mistra Chronicles) Page 10