Siege

by Jack Hight

  The passage began to slope upward. She picked her way forward, pausing frequently to listen, but the clanking noise did not repeat itself. At every step she half-expected a band of Turks to spring forth, but there was nothing, only the continuing darkness. She estimated that she had walked some one hundred feet when she ran into something solid. The sudden impact surprised her, and she jumped backwards, dropping into a defensive crouch. The clanging noise was back, loud and right in front of her. She waited, not daring to breathe, as the clanging slowly faded. When it was gone, she crept forward, her hand stretched out before her. She felt something: a metal bar, stretching from the floor towards the ceiling. Next to it was another, and then another. She grabbed the bars with both of her hands and shook. The clanking returned. She knew now what had caused it: a locked gate, rattling in the wind.

  The Russian writer had not mentioned a gate, which meant that either it had been added after his trip through the tunnel, or she was in a different passageway. She felt the bars of the gate again. They had been spaced to keep out men in armour, but she might be able to fit through. She pushed her head through first, and then, turning sideways and holding her breath tight, she just managed to squeeze through. She continued down the tunnel into the darkness. She could hear a new sound now, a deep, repeated booming, which sounded to her like the heartbeat of the earth. It took her a moment to realize what it was: cannons. Eventually, the sound faded away. She could only guess what that meant. Had she passed them? Was she moving away from some exit that she had missed in the dark? Despite her doubts, she kept walking. A weak light began to fill the tunnel, and in the distance she spied a pile of large stones blocking the way ahead.

  Sofia hurried forward. It looked as if there had once been a small room here, with stairs leading upwards — just as the Russian had described the exit from the tunnel. She dropped to her knees and moved among the fallen rocks, looking for a way through. Finally, she found it: a narrow passageway that wormed its way up through the rubble to where she saw a thin sliver of blue sky. She wriggled into the passageway, but after several feet, her progress was blocked by a large stone. Sofia shoved against it, and the stone shifted slightly. She braced her legs against the sides of the passage and pushed harder. This time, the stone rolled aside, revealing the blue sky beyond.

  Sofia pulled herself upwards until her head poked out of the tunnel. She was on the side of a small hill, hidden by tall grass. The heavy, flat stone that had covered the tunnel entrance lay to the side. She looked about, but saw nobody. She wriggled the rest of the way out of the hole and crouched in the grass. Before her, empty hills rolled away into the distance. To her right was the final stretch of the Golden Horn. She turned around and edged her way up the hill. When she reached the top, she dropped to her stomach in the grass. Only a hundred yards in front of her lay the Turkish encampment, stretching away far into the distance, all the way to the walls of Constantinople. As the sun reached its zenith overhead Longo walked the walls alongside Dalmata, inspecting the damage wrought by the Turkish cannons. They started at the Blachernae wall, just north of the palace. This was the newest section of the wall, built in the seventh century to enclose the Blachernae quarter. Unlike the rest of the land wall, it was only a single wall, but it was thick and had held up well to the bombardment.

  'The walls are stronger than I had imagined,' Longo said.

  'Wait until you see the Mesoteichion,' Dalmata told him. 'It is where they have placed their largest cannons.'

  They continued and crossed over on to the innermost of the Theodosian walls, built over one thousand years ago, in the early days of the Eastern Roman Empire. At first, the walls looked strong, but as they sloped down towards the Lycus river, gaps began to appear in the outer wall. By the time they reached the Mesoteichion — the area around where the Lycus river passed through the walls — the gaps had become the norm, and stretches of wall the exception. The inner wall was still more or less whole, but the outer wall had been almost completely destroyed. Longo stopped and looked down on the ramshackle stockade that had been built on the rubble. Dirt had been thrown on the debris to create a walkway, and then planks and sacks of earth used to create a low barrier. At the top, barrels filled with dirt formed a battlement, providing the defenders with some cover.

  'The stockade cannot hold up to their cannons,' Dalmata said. 'The soldiers draw lots to see who will defend it each day, and who will rebuild it each night.'

  Dalmata's words were punctuated by a tremendous boom. A moment later, the stockade below them exploded in a shower of dirt and splintered wood. As the dust settled, Longo saw that a gap five feet wide had been blown in it. In the middle of the gap, an enormous cannonball sat buried amidst the wreckage.

  Longo shook his head. 'What was that?'

  Dalmata pointed to where a huge cannon sat on the Turkish rampart some two hundred yards away. 'The men call it the Big Bastard,' he said. 'The Turks call it the Dragon. Either way, it's a monster. Nothing we build will stand up to it.'

  A palace messenger approached them along the wall. 'Signor Giustiniani, I bring a message from the Princess Sofia,' the man said. He handed Longo a folded note. It read: I have important information. It is urgent that I speak with you. Come to the palace, quickly. — Princess Sofia.

  'I must go,' Longo told Dalmata. 'We can continue this later.' Longo hurried to the palace, where Sofia's maidservant guided him to the library. Longo found Sofia standing at a table examining a large map. 'Princess Sofia,' he said and bowed.

  Sofia looked up from the map. 'Come, look at this,' she told him. Longo moved to stand beside her. She smelled of honeysuckle, and as she leaned forward over the map, she revealed the soft curves of her cleavage. Longo forced himself to look away to the ancient map spread out before him. It was a plan of subterranean Constantinople, detailing cisterns, sewers and underground tunnels. 'This is part of a series of surveys from the twelfth century,' she said. 'Do you see this underground chamber, where the many tunnels come together?'

  'What of it?' Longo asked. The chamber in question looked to be near the wall. Tunnels radiated out from it towards the palace and to other parts of the city.

  'The map is incomplete,' Sofia said. 'Look at the edge of the chamber here, where these lines are indented. Do you see the smudging? A tunnel has been erased.'

  'Are you sure?' Longo asked.

  Sofia smiled. 'I found the tunnel myself this morning. It leads out past the walls and beyond the Turkish army. The entrance to the tunnel is beneath this palace.'

  'Have you told anyone of this? The emperor? Notaras?'

  Sofia shook her head. 'No. Secrets are not easily kept in this city. If our enemies find out about these tunnels, then we are lost.'

  Longo looked back to the map. 'You are right. If the Turks make their way into these tunnels, then they will have access to the entire city.' He looked up from the map, and their eyes met. 'But why tell me and not the emperor?'

  Sofia lowered her eyes. 'You are in command of the city's defences,' she said, and then looked back at Longo. 'And I trust you.'

  Longo stared into her hazel eyes. 'I will not disappoint you,' he told her. From the doorway the maidservant coughed, and Longo straightened and looked back to the map. 'I will have my men destroy the tunnel. Is it the only one that leads under the walls?'

  'It is the only one that I have found,' Sofia said. 'There could be others.'

  'Let us hope not. In the meantime, I need to see this tunnel as soon as possible. Can you take me to it?'

  'Not now,' Sofia replied, lowering her voice. 'We would draw unwanted attention to the tunnels and ourselves. I do not wish to fuel idle gossip. Meet me at midnight, outside my quarters, and make sure you are not seen.' Longo consulted with Constantine until late that night. He suspected that more than information on how the siege was progressing, the emperor simply wanted company. He did not blame Constantine. The emperor was battling to prevent the end of an empire that had lasted more than a thousand years.<
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  Longo left the emperor's quarters near midnight but did not leave the palace. Instead, he made his way to Sofia's apartments, sticking close to the shadows. The palace was all but empty at this hour, and he saw no one until he reached Sofia's quarters. She was at the door, waiting for him.

  'Come,' she whispered. 'Follow me.' She led him into her apartments. They passed from the waiting room into her bedroom, where Sofia pressed a tile on the wall and a portion of it swung open, revealing a hidden passage. She took a candle and stepped into the darkness. 'This way. We can reach the kitchens without being seen.'

  She closed the door behind him. The passage was narrow, and the tiny light of the candle only reached a few feet in front of them. 'I did not know of these tunnels,' Longo whispered as they walked. 'Are they for servants? Who else knows of them?'

  'I do not know why they were originally built,' Sofia said. 'But I have never seen another person in them. I found them as a child.'

  'Do they run throughout the palace?'

  Sofia nodded. 'Shh,' she added, dropping her voice even lower. 'We must not talk until we reach the kitchen. The walls are thin here. We might be overheard.' They walked on in silence; the only sound the quiet scuffing of their feet. The tunnel branched several times, but Sofia moved on without hesitation. They went down two tight spiral staircases, and then came to a dead end. A tiny spyhole in the wall before them glowed red from the light outside. Sofia put her eye to it. 'We are in luck. No one is here,' she whispered. 'Come. We must hurry before someone returns.'

  She pushed on a hidden catch and then pulled. The wall swung open towards them, and the dim red light of a banked fire lit the passage. They stepped out into a little-used corner of the kitchen. Knives and pots hung everywhere, and on the opposite wall was a huge fireplace — twenty feet wide and ten deep — where a banked fire smouldered. Sofia pointed to a torch in a bracket on the wall beside the fireplace.

  Longo took the torch, and they hurried through the kitchen to a stairwell leading down to the storage area, where barrels and sacks of grain were stacked to the ceiling. Sofia led Longo to another staircase, and they descended into the damp darkness of the dungeons.

  'We can talk freely now,' Sofia said as she led Longo into the high-ceilinged entrance to the dungeons. 'No one will hear us down here.'

  'What is this place?'

  'These were the palace dungeons, but they have been abandoned for many years now,' Sofia answered as she led Longo to the right down a long passage. 'Now only bones remain.'

  They entered another room, startling a group of bats. The bats swooped down from the ceiling, squeaking shrilly and flapping about their heads. Sofia raised her arms to protect her head, and Longo put an arm around her, pulling her close as he waved the torch above them to keep the bats away. When the last of the bats had disappeared, Sofia stiffened and stepped away. Longo could still feel the warmth of her body beside him. They stood still for a second, but the moment passed. She turned and led the way to another stairwell.

  'You came all this way by yourself?' Longo asked as they descended. 'In the dark?'

  'Does that surprise you?'

  'Most ladies are not overly fond of dark dungeons, or bats for that matter,' Longo said, looking around him. 'In fact, most men would hesitate to come here alone. There is something unnerving about this place.'

  'Well then, you are lucky to have me to protect you,' Sofia said with a smile as they came to the end of the hall and stepped into the old torture chamber. Sofia went to the far side of the room, where she had rehung the tapestry as best she could. She pulled it aside and tugged the door open. 'I fear the fall of Constantinople more than bats or darkness.'

  'You seem to fear very little, Princess.'

  'I fear those things that I cannot control,' she said as she led him into the tunnel. 'The success of our men in battle, the future of our empire, even my own fate. Princess is a pretty title, but I would gladly trade it for a chance to choose my own destiny, to do as I wished, love who I…' she cut herself short.

  Longo stopped. 'You do not love the megadux, then?'

  Sofia turned to look at Longo. 'No, I do not love him.' She moved on ahead, her face lost in the shadows. 'But I speak too much,' she said. 'I am a princess. I cannot choose who I marry.'

  They walked in silence until they came to the large, round chamber with tunnels branching out from it. Sofia went from tunnel to tunnel, feeling for the telltale gust of wind that indicated the tunnel led to the outside. 'Do you know where these other tunnels lead?' Longo asked.

  'According to the map, they lead to other points in the city,' Sofia replied. 'They are all blocked up now, I suspect, or else the tunnel outside the city would have been discovered long ago.' She stopped before one of the side passages; a gentle breeze was ruffling her hair. 'Come. This is it.'

  They did not walk far before they came to the gate blocking the tunnel. 'It is locked,' Sofia said. 'I was able to squeeze through, but I'm afraid that this is as far as you will be able to go.'

  'Perhaps,' Longo said, examining the rusty chain and lock. 'Step aside, Princess.' He handed Sofia the torch, and then drew his sword and struck hard at the chain. Sparks flew, and the chain dropped to the ground. The gate swung open, screeching on protesting hinges. 'After you,' he gestured, and they continued down the tunnel.

  The ground was sloping upward now, and the torch burned brighter in the fresher air. The boom of the cannons grew louder and then faded again as they walked. 'The Turks,' Sofia said suddenly. 'I heard that you were one of them once, a janissary. What are they like?'

  'Ordinary men, for the most part,' Longo said. 'It is not an easy life, that of the janissary. They are taken from their parents as children and forced to serve the sultan. They either learn to love him or to hate him.'

  'And you hate him?'

  'The janissaries killed my family when I was only a child. I have searched for the man who killed them all my life. For a long time my hatred of him was all that I had.' They both fell silent until they came to the jumble of rocks at the end of the tunnel.

  'This is it,' Sofia said. 'The exit has been destroyed, but there is a passage through the rocks, here. I did my best to cover the exit.' Crouching down, Longo could see a sliver of starlit sky at the other end of a narrow passage. He handed the torch to Sofia.

  'Go back and tell my men, William and Tristo, what you have found,' he told her. 'If there is no messenger you can trust, then go yourself. Tell them to bring men to guard the tunnel and explosives to destroy it. If I'm not back by noon, then they are to destroy the tunnel.'

  'Where are you going?'

  'Out there,' Longo said. 'The Turks will not be content to bombard the walls forever. I will never have a better chance to find out what else they are up to.'

  'That is mad!' Sofia protested. 'They'll kill you!'

  'As you said, I was a janissary once,' Longo told her. 'I know my way around a Turkish camp.'

  'Be careful, then.'

  'You too, Sofia. And hurry.'

  Sofia nodded, but did not move. They stood close together, Longo staring into her eyes. He thought he saw fear there, and love. Finally, Sofia turned to go, then stopped. 'About that night in Corsica…' she said, turning to face Longo. 'Perhaps it was wrong, but I do not regret it.'

  'Nor do I,' he replied. He stepped forward and kissed her. After a brief pause, she pressed herself against him, and he put his arms around him. Her mouth opened, and Longo felt her tongue slide against his. He pulled her more tightly to him. Finally, she pulled away.

  'If I were free to love…' she began, but then hesitated. The torch trembled in her hand, and her eyes were wide and shining.

  'No one can tell you who to love,' Longo said softly.

  Sofia nodded and took a step closer to Longo. 'I know,' she whispered. She kissed him again, quickly, and then, before he could reply, she turned and was gone. Dawn was still at least three hours away when Longo emerged from the tunnel and on to the hillside beyond the
Turkish camp. The darkness was intense, and he slipped unseen up to one of the sentries and dispatched him silently, covering his mouth as he slipped a dagger between his ribs. Longo donned the dead janissary's armour and headed into the Turkish camp, passing hundreds of grazing mules and lowing cattle before entering amongst the tents.

  Despite the early hour there was a surprising amount of activity. On the outskirts he saw dozens of carpenters busy making ladders, bow makers stringing weapons and blacksmiths at their forges. As he passed amongst the tents of the janissaries, Longo heard all around him the quiet rasp of weapons being sharpened. He saw many men seated around fires, eating as they prepared their weapons and armour. Here and there he heard the excited clamour of a game of dice.

  The janissaries grouped their tents by orta, or battalion, and at the centre of each orta was a large mess tent that bore the battalion's emblem. Longo walked through the tents until he came to a symbol that he knew well — the double-bladed sword of Ali, embroidered in red on a tent from which flew a triangular green flag. It was the standard of one of the solak imperial guard units from Edirne, the elite amongst the janissaries. At the nearest fire several battle-hardened men were eating, using stiff flatbread to scoop a pilaf of boiled wheat and butter from a common pot. Longo took a seat among them, broke off a piece of bread and gestured for someone to pass the food. One of the janissaries began to pass the pot, but another, grey-haired man stopped him. The older man wore a vest lined with fox fur, the mark of a battalion commander, and the double-bladed sword emblem was tattooed on his shoulder. He squinted at Longo. 'I don't recognize you,' he said at last, in Turkish.

  'I'm from one of the Salonika orta,' Longo explained in perfect Turkish.

  'Then why don't you go back there.' It was not a question.

  Longo smiled. 'I was a little too lucky at dice tonight,' he said and patted his full purse. 'I'm afraid I'm not exactly welcome in my orta. The Saloniki are not good losers.' Longo was taking a risk. While the rule was rarely enforced, gambling was officially forbidden amongst the janissary. The orta commander could have Longo caned on the soles of his feet for admitting to luck at dice.