Siege

by Jack Hight

  'One of your messenger pigeons returned to the coop in camp this afternoon without any message attached to it, Grand Vizier. You told us to inform you if this happened.'

  A pigeon without a message: it was the sign that Halil had been waiting for. He called for a horse and rode straight to the imperial pigeon coop. He found the grey-bearded head keeper pottering amidst the many cages, scattering birdseed.

  'Keeper,' Halil called. The man turned and upon seeing Halil, dropped his birdseed and prostrated himself on the floor.

  'How may I serve you, great Vizier?'

  'Get up,' Halil told him. The keeper scrambled to his feet. 'A pigeon returned this afternoon without any message. Do you remember which one it was?' The keeper nodded. 'Good. Take me to it.'

  'Yes, Your Excellency.' The keeper showed Halil to a cage where a single pigeon sat. Halil took it from its cage and examined it. Sure enough, there was a dark spot just behind the pigeon's head. There could be no doubt now. There would be a meeting with Gennadius this very night. Not an hour later, Halil stood in a dark tunnel, fingering the jewelled handle of his sword as he waited impatiently for Gennadius to arrive. After finding the agreed meeting point, Halil had extinguished his torch, and he now stood in absolute darkness, listening keenly for any sound. He was sure that he had not been followed, but nevertheless, he was edgy. He did not like putting himself at risk like this. Still, with Isa gone to Edirne, he did not trust anyone else to meet with Gennadius. And this was a meeting that Halil could not afford to miss.

  Footsteps echoed down the dark passage — the sound of sandals slapping against stone. The footsteps grew louder, and then a light came into view — a torch flickering in the distance. Halil studied the monk as he approached. Gennadius was compact and thin. His face was lined, but he walked with the erect, determined stride of a much younger man. He wore the simple black cassock of a monk, garb which matched his tonsured black hair. Gennadius slowed as he reached the meeting point. He still had not seen Halil.

  'Where is the answer?' Halil asked, stepping out of the shadows and into the light cast by Gennadius's torch. Surprised, Gennadius took a step backwards, and his hand dropped to the dagger tucked into his belt.

  'Who are you?' Gennadius asked. 'Where is Isa?'

  'First, answer the question,' Halil insisted. 'Where is the answer?'

  'Edirne.'

  'Good. Edirne is also the answer to your question. Isa is there.'

  'And who are you?'

  'I am Halil.'

  'Halil?' Gennadius asked, looking more closely at the vizier. 'Why are you here? I thought that we had agreed that the less contact there was between us, the safer we would both be.'

  'Yes,' Halil agreed. 'But Isa is gone, and I do not trust anyone else. I am glad that you sent the bird; I need to speak with you. The siege is progressing faster than I had expected. We must act soon, or we will lose our chance.'

  'I do not think so,' Gennadius replied. 'Moving a fleet into the Golden Horn is one thing; moving an army over the walls another. Constantinople has not stood for a thousand years only to fall easily now.'

  'All the same, the time for action is now,' Halil insisted. 'I have paid you well, Gennadius. I hope for your sake that it was not money wasted.'

  'Do not threaten me, Halil. You will find me decidedly harder to dispose of than one of your Turkish lackeys,' Gennadius warned, his voice low and hard. 'But we are not here to waste our breath on threats. In fact, I have information for you: an attack on the Turkish ships in the Golden Horn is planned for tomorrow night, under the darkness of the new moon.'

  'Tomorrow night?' Halil's mind was racing. If the Turkish ships were destroyed, then perhaps it would buy him more time. 'What is their plan? How will they attack?'

  'A fleet of small ships will sail after nightfall,' Gennadius told him. 'They plan to use Greek fire to burn the Turkish fleet.'

  'You have done well, Gennadius. This is valuable information. I will see to it that the Christian fleet succeeds.'

  'No, that is not why I have told you this,' Gennadius said. 'You must tell the sultan. In order for my plan to assassinate Mehmed to work, he must know that you have a contact within Constantinople, and he must see that the information from that contact is valuable.'

  'I see,' Halil said. He thought he was beginning to understand Gennadius's plan, but Halil knew that the less he knew of the assassination, the safer he would be. 'You need say no more. I will do as you say. Is that all that you have to tell me?'

  'That is all.'

  'Very well,' Halil said. 'Do not contact me again unless it is absolutely vital. These meetings are too dangerous.'

  'Dangerous?' Gennadius snorted. 'I have little enough to fear from my fellow Greeks. The people trust me more than the emperor, and those that oppose me are fools.'

  'Let us hope that you are correct,' Halil said. 'Regardless, I do not wish to risk my life to prove your point. There will be no more meetings. The next time we meet, I expect that the sultan will be dead, and you will be the patriarch of a Turkish Constantinople.'

  Gennadius nodded. 'So be it.'

  'So be it,' Halil echoed, then he turned and walked away into the darkness. Gennadius climbed out of the dark tunnel into the church basement, which was lit by the flickering light of a single lamp set on the floor. Eugenius was waiting where Gennadius had left him — kneeling on the floor beside the lamp, his head bent in prayer. Gennadius touched Eugenius's shoulder. 'It is time to go, my friend.'

  Eugenius nodded and rose. 'You were gone longer than I expected,' he said. 'Were there any difficulties?'

  'Everything is proceeding according to God's plan,' Gennadius said. 'Now, let us return to the monastery before it grows dark.'

  They made their way out of the small church and along the docks beyond the sea wall. The gates through the wall were shut by order of the emperor, but several of the guards at the Ispigas gate were loyal to Gennadius, and he had little trouble passing through into the city. From there, he and Eugenius wandered off the road and found the shaded path that sloped up to the cave that they would use to re-enter the monastery. Eventually, the path they were following levelled out. Ahead of them lay the dark entrance to the cave. They entered, but Gennadius had only taken a few steps when Eugenius froze. Gennadius stopped beside him, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized that something was amiss. Ahead of them, the door set into the back of the cave was open.

  Eugenius bent down and inspected the ground at their feet. 'Somebody has been here,' he said, pointing to the faint outline of footprints in the dirt. He moved forward, tracing the footsteps further. 'And they have not left.' He reached for his sword, but it was too late. From the corner of his eye, Gennadius saw several shadows detach themselves from the walls and surge towards them. Eugenius rose to fight them, but he was swarmed by three men before he could draw his sword.

  Gennadius turned to run, but he had taken only a few steps when another man stepped out of the shadows to block his path. Gennadius was reaching for his dagger when he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head. The world spun. He felt himself falling and then, nothing. Gennadius awoke to the splash of cold water on his face. He quickly took stock of his surroundings. His hands were tied to the arms of a heavy wooden chair and he sat in a dark, luxuriously furnished room: thick Persian carpet, fine paintings on the walls, and a broad desk in front of him. Whoever was with him was not in view. They must now be standing behind him. Gennadius tried to twist his head around, but saw no one. However, from where he sat he could see several tools of torture on the floor nearby: a whip, screws and, most disturbingly of all, a giant metal spike of the sort that traitors were sometimes made to sit on. Gennadius felt panic welling up within him. 'Who's there?' he asked. 'What do you want from me?' There was no answer. Gennadius fought down his panic, forcing himself to breathe evenly. He was still alive, and that was good. Whoever had captured him wanted something from him, or he would be dead already. Or, Gennadius reflected grimly,
they wanted him to suffer before he died.

  A door opened somewhere behind Gennadius, and he heard footsteps approach. 'Welcome to my home, Gennadius.' The voice was that of Notaras. He strode into view and sat down at the desk, facing Gennadius.

  Gennadius managed a weak smile. He glanced significantly at the ropes tying his hands. 'Thank you for your generous hospitality.'

  'The ropes are necessary,' Notaras told him. 'I have some questions to ask you. My friend here will make certain that you answer.' Notaras gestured to the man behind Gennadius, who now stepped forward into view. He was tall and dark-skinned, his face lined with scars. He held a wicked-looking curved knife, which he tapped against his hand.

  Gennadius ignored the man. He had to keep his conversation with Notaras going. He had information that might save him, if only he could get Notaras to listen. 'I will be more than happy to answer any questions you have for me, Notaras. I have nothing to hide.'

  'Odd that a man with nothing to hide would leave his monastery through a secret tunnel. Stranger still that he would leave the city walls.'

  'I did nothing of the sort.'

  'Do not lie to me, monk,' Notaras snapped. 'The guards at the sea wall are not as loyal to you as you think. I know you left the city. Now I want to know what you are plotting. Consorting with the enemy is treason, Gennadius. The punishment is death. But if you speak truthfully, I might spare your life. Tell me: why did you leave the monastery in secret?'

  'I have nothing to hide,' Gennadius replied. 'But I do have good reason to be careful. I took the tunnel to avoid you and your men. You have been poisoned against me, Notaras. I knew that you would not understand what I was doing.'

  'And what exactly was that? Arranging another poisoning? Perhaps Sofia this time, or the emperor?'

  Gennadius laughed. 'Don't be a fool. It is not the emperor that I wish dead, but the sultan.'

  Notaras's eyes narrowed. 'Impossible,' he said. 'You could never get near him. No one can. He is surrounded by dozens of janissaries at all times.'

  'No, not impossible, Notaras. Not with your help.'

  'And why should I believe you? This is just another one of your tricks.'

  'No, Notaras,' Gennadius protested. 'This is no trick. Together we can kill the sultan and save our city. You will be remembered forever as the saviour of the empire.'

  Notaras shook his head. 'I do not believe you, Gennadius, and I will not listen to any more of your lies. I have seen enough of your treachery. You had Neophytus poison the empress-mother, and you killed him to save yourself. You would sacrifice anything or anyone to destroy the Union and become patriarch.'

  'Would I, Notaras? Did Princess Sofia tell you that? You would be wise not to believe all that she says. I told you before that she could not be trusted. Each night she lies with Giustiniani, the man who has taken your rightful place as defender of the city.'

  Notaras did not speak. He gestured and the dark-skinned man stepped forward and put his knife to Gennadius's throat, pressing hard enough to draw a thin trail of blood. 'Careful what you say, monk,' Notaras said. 'I shall lose my patience and have you killed before I am quite done with you.'

  'Kill me if you wish, Notaras, but what I say is true,' Gennadius said, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. 'Why else do you think the emperor has confined Princess Sofia to her quarters after sunset? I informed him that something is amiss.'

  'I did not know that the emperor had done any such thing.'

  'There is much that you do not know, my friend. And I will not always be there to protect your interests. You must look after that woman of yours. She could be dangerous to you… to all of us.'

  'You lie to save yourself,' Notaras replied coldly.

  'Do I? Send your men to Sofia's chambers after nightfall. You will see if I lie.'

  Notaras did not reply, but it was clear to Gennadius that he had only confirmed the megadux's fears. And those fears were eating at Notaras, undermining his better judgement, his distrust of Gennadius. Finally, Notaras waved off the dark-skinned man, who removed his knife from Gennadius's throat and used it to cut the ropes that held Gennadius's hands. Gennadius rubbed his wrists and breathed a sigh of relief.

  'Very well,' Notaras said. 'I will watch Giustiniani, and if what you say is true, then I will listen to your plan to kill the sultan. But know that if this is a trick, then you will wish that you had never lived. Now come.'

  Notaras rose and strode from the chamber, and Gennadius followed. The dark-skinned man trailed behind Gennadius, staying uncomfortably close. They came to a tight spiral staircase and descended three flights of stairs to a narrow, dimly lit hallway. Notaras led Gennadius to a door halfway down the hall and stopped. He produced a key, unlocked the door and held it open. Gennadius looked inside. It was a small, square cell, the floor covered with straw. Eugenius sat slumped in the corner.

  'What is this?' Gennadius asked.

  'Your cell,' Notaras replied, and before Gennadius had a chance to protest, the dark-skinned man shoved him from behind and sent him tumbling in. He landed hard on the floor and turned to see the door swing shut behind him. It closed with a clang, and he heard the key turn in the lock. Gennadius scrambled to his feet and rushed to the grill in the door.

  'What are you doing?' he cried through the opening. 'You cannot keep me here! I am a man of God!'

  'You are alive. Thank God for that,' Notaras replied. 'You will be freed when I know that what you say is true.' With that, he turned and left. Gennadius heard his footsteps retreating down the hallway, and then there was only silence.

  'What do we do now?' Eugenius asked.

  'Patience, my friend,' Gennadius said. 'Now we wait.' The next night there was no moon, and William could only just make out the ships closest to him as his boat glided over the dark waters of the Horn towards the Turkish fleet. To his left he could see what he thought was Longo's boat, and to the right loomed a Genoese transport, the dim outline of its huge bulk barely visible. The rest of the Christian fleet was lost in the darkness.

  'Quiet now, men,' William whispered to his crew. 'Row gently.' They had wrapped their rowlocks in cloth before they left, and now the only sound was the gentle slap of waves against the side of the boat and the quiet dip of the oars in the water as they pulled away from the rest of the Christian boats and headed for their target: two ships at the far edge of the Turkish fleet. Ahead, the distant shore and Turkish ships were impossible to make out in the darkness.

  They had nearly reached the far shore, and still Matthias could not see the two ships they had been assigned to burn. 'Where are they? Are we still on course?' he whispered to the man at the tiller. The man nodded. Then, far to their left, a flare went up from the Turkish shore. The men stopped rowing and turned to watch.

  'What in Jesus' name is that?' the coxswain called out.

  'Quiet,' William hissed. The flare fell slowly, illuminating the other Christian ships, which were grouped together some two hundred yards to port, ready to attack the heart of the Turkish fleet. William spied Longo's boat in the middle of the fleet. Giacomo Coco — the commander of the expedition — had broken clear of the rest of the ships and had almost reached the Turks. He was standing in the prow, urging his longboat forward. As William watched, a Turkish cannon barked out on the far shore, and a second later Coco's head simply disappeared. His body slumped and fell overboard just as the flare burned out, plunging the scene back into darkness.

  The Turkish cannons on the far shore erupted, and the scene descended into chaos. By the intermittent flash of the cannons, William watched cannonballs skip across the water and rip through the Christian fleet, splintering hulls and sweeping sailors from their boats. He thought he saw Longo's ship pulling out of the chaos, but then lost it in the darkness. When the cannons flashed again, Longo's boat was gone.

  'What should we do?' one of the men called out. 'Should we turn back?'

  'No,' William replied. 'We head for the Christian fleet. The men won't last long in w
ater that cold, and if they swim to the Turkish shore they are as good as dead. We will save as many as we can.'

  'But sir,' the coxswain protested. 'The cannons will eat us alive.'

  'No — listen. The cannons have stopped.' William pointed to the Turkish fleet, which was now pulling towards the Christians to finish them off. 'They won't risk hitting their own men. Now turn the boat around.'

  'Aye, sir,' the coxswain said. 'Right back, left forward. Row!' he called. The boat spun around and then surged forward towards the battle. They had not rowed a hundred yards when a tall Turkish ship loomed up out of the darkness ahead of them, blocking their path to the Christian fleet. The ship was crowded with men, but all were at the far rail, attacking one of the Christian ships. They seemed not to have noticed William's small ship.

  'All right, men. Let's do what we came for,' William called to his crew. 'Oars in. Not a sound,' he whispered as his boat glided up next to the Turkish ship. Quietly, they hooked on to the side of the vessel, and pulled themselves close. 'Ready the fire,' William whispered, and one of the sailors lit the fuse to a barrel of Greek fire. William let it sputter for a few seconds. 'Unhook the ship,' he whispered finally. Immediately, the Turkish ship began to drift away. 'Now!' William yelled. The men grabbed the small barrel and hurled it up and on to the neighbouring deck, where it rolled to the middle and burst into flames.

  'Row! Row!' William yelled as the fire spread over the Turkish ship, engulfing it. They pulled away to safety, and the burning ship, its tiller aflame and useless, veered into another Turkish ship, setting it afire too. The two ships burned brightly. By their light, William saw the Christian fleet in full retreat and Turkish ships racing out to capture any stragglers. Nearer, just past the burning Turkish ships, William saw a dozen men flailing in the water. A Turkish galley was rowing out to finish them off.

  'There!' William told the coxswain. 'Row for those men, and pull hard!' They reached the men and pulled them on board just as arrows from the galley started to fall around them. Longo was not amongst the men. William stood in the stern and scanned the water for him. The coxswain pulled William back down.