Siege

by Jack Hight

  One of the crew — a lean young man — stepped forward. 'What do you want?' he asked. 'Have you come to kill him in his bed?'

  'If I wished him dead, then he would be dead already,' Mehmed replied. 'I wish to speak with him.'

  'Very well. I will take you to him,' the young crewman said. 'Follow me.' He stepped down a hatchway that led below decks.

  Mehmed approached the hatchway, and his guard hurried to follow him. 'Stay where you are,' Mehmed ordered. 'I will be safe enough here.' He followed the young man into the dim light below decks.

  The hold in which Mehmed found himself was crowded with rows of cots, one atop the other, swinging with the motion of the ship. A hatchway in the floor led deeper still into the ship, to where Mehmed presumed supplies were stored. Before him, at the far end of the hold, a door stood open.

  Mehmed's guide stopped at the doorway. 'The sultan is here,' he called into the room. Then he stepped aside and motioned Mehmed inside. Mehmed entered to find himself in a small stern cabin. An oil lamp hung from the ceiling, illuminating the scene. There was a desk against the far wall, with charts and a pitcher of water upon it. A chest sat against the wall to the left. To the right hung a cot in which lay Signor Giustiniani, his face pale. His chest had been heavily bandaged, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He looked nothing like the man that Mehmed had met before the walls of Constantinople only a few days before. A stool stood by the cot, and Mehmed sat down on it.

  'Greetings, great Sultan,' Longo wheezed. 'You honour me with your presence. What brings you to my ship?'

  'I wished to see you,' Mehmed said. 'To honour you for your brave defence of the city. You are a great warrior, signor. You were a worthy adversary.'

  'Not worthy enough, it seems. The city has fallen. It is you who have been proven the great warrior.'

  'Perhaps you are right, but you fought bravely with few men. Your deeds will long be remembered, by my people as well as yours. Your sword will always be welcome in my service, if you so choose.'

  Longo shook his head. 'I fear I shall not wield my sword again. Not in your service or in any other.'

  'I see,' Mehmed said gravely. The two men fell silent. Finally, Mehmed spoke again. 'Perhaps you are the lucky one, signor. It is a strange thing: to fight for one thing for so long and then to suddenly achieve it. Constantinople is conquered, yes, but what now do I fight for?' He shook his head sadly, his creased forehead making him look far older than his twenty-one years. 'I do not know.'

  'You are young yet,' Longo replied. 'And there are other things to fight for besides cities and glory. You will learn that in time.'

  Mehmed smiled. 'You are right, I am sure. You are as wise as you are brave, a rare combination indeed. I wish to honour you, to pay tribute to the defender of Constantinople. I had planned to offer you a place in my army, but since you cannot serve, is there anything that you wish of me, land or titles? If it is within my power, I will grant it.'

  'My crew,' Longo said. 'They have served me well. All I ask is that you swear to spare the lives of all on this ship and to allow them safe passage to Chios.'

  'It shall be as you say.' Mehmed rose to his feet. 'And, I shall tell my men to bring you whatever provisions you need for your journey.'

  'You have my thanks, Sultan.'

  'It is nothing less than you deserve,' Mehmed said. 'Farewell, Signor.' He turned and left. The young man was waiting to lead him back up to the deck. Once there, Mehmed called the captain of his guard to him. 'Give this ship safe passage, and see that it receives whatever provisions it needs,' Mehmed ordered as he stepped on to the dock.

  'Yes, Sultan.'

  'And have my baggage prepared and my horses readied,' Mehmed added. 'I wish to leave the city tonight.'

  'For where, Sultan?'

  'For Edirne.' Moonlight fell through the open windows of Sitt Hatun's apartments, illuminating her as she lay in bed, unable to sleep. Mehmed was to arrive tomorrow, and she feared his return. She had heard that Halil had been executed, and Sitt Hatun worried that Isa had betrayed him. Had Isa betrayed her as well? Sitt Hatun shuddered at the thought.

  A loud cry from somewhere in her apartments startled Sitt Hatun, and she sat up. A few seconds later, Anna burst into the room, a sword in her hand.

  'What is it?' Sitt Hatun asked.

  Anna tried to speak but no words came. Blood trailed from her mouth, and she slumped to the floor, revealing a deep wound in her back. Sitt Hatun knelt beside her. 'Who has done this?' she asked. 'What happened?'

  Anna managed to mouth one word — Selim — before she choked on her own blood and went still, dead. Sitt Hatun took Anna's sword and hurried into Selim's room. Two members of the sultan's private guard stood over a third who lay on the floor unmoving, but Sitt Hatun ignored them. Her eyes were fixed on Selim. He was floating face down in his bath. Sitt Hatun dropped the sword and pushed past the guards. She lifted Selim from the water and held him to her, cradling the boy in her arms and gently rocking him. 'Selim, my angel,' she whispered to him. 'Wake up, my son. I am here now. Wake up.' But it was no use. Selim was dead. Sitt Hatun sank to the floor.

  'The sultan is waiting for you,' one of the guards told her. 'You must come with us.'

  The sultan: he had done this. Mehmed had killed her child. Sitt Hatun's grief transformed into rage, and she rose from the floor, still clutching Selim to her. 'Take me to him,' she told the guards. Mehmed stood in the hallway outside Sitt Hatun's quarters. Behind him stood several of his private guard, and out of the corner of his eye Mehmed noticed Gulbehar arrive with the boy Bayezid. No doubt Gulbehar had come to witness Sitt Hatun's fate.

  The doors to Sitt Hatun's quarters swung open, and Sitt Hatun stormed out, holding Selim's lifeless body in her arms. 'How could you!' she screamed at Mehmed. She tried to slap him, but he caught her arm. 'He is only a child!'

  'He was a bastard and the son of a traitor,' Mehmed replied.

  'Look at him,' Sitt Hatun urged, thrusting Selim towards him. 'Look at him! He is your son!'

  Mehmed looked at the boy. Selim's large, brown eyes were open and seemed to stare accusingly at Mehmed. They were Mehmed's eyes. There was no mistaking the resemblance.

  Mehmed felt sick and looked away. 'Dispose of the boy,' he ordered his guards. He was suddenly desperate to have Selim gone, somewhere where the child's sad eyes would not be able to haunt him. 'Cast him into the river.'

  The guards stepped forward to take Selim. 'No! No!' Sitt Hatun screamed as the guards wrested Selim from her. 'Selim! My child! Bring back my child!' As the guards disappeared with her son, Sitt Hatun collapsed to the ground, her energy gone. 'Kill me,' she said quietly, 'and be done with it.'

  'You shall not die,' Mehmed replied. 'You saved my one true son, Bayezid, and so I shall spare your life. But you are dead to me, Sitt Hatun. You shall live out the rest of your life in exile, and you will never see my face again.' Two guards grabbed her arms, lifted her to her feet and dragged her away. Mehmed saw Gulbehar smirk as Sitt Hatun was dragged past her.

  When Sitt Hatun was gone, Gulbehar stepped closer to Mehmed and slid her arm around his back. 'It is nothing less than she and her bastard child deserved,' she whispered.

  Mehmed turned and slapped her hard. 'Do not think that I have forgotten your treachery, whore,' he said, his voice cold. He pulled Bayezid away from his mother. 'You may return to you quarters.' Mehmed walked away, pulling Bayezid after him.

  'But my son!' Gulbehar cried.

  'He is my son, and mine alone,' Mehmed told her. 'I will not let you poison him against me. Take her away.' The remaining guards stepped forward and pulled Gulbehar towards her quarters.

  'Bayezid! My son!' Gulbehar cried as she was dragged away.

  Bayezid began to cry. 'Selim,' he sobbed. 'Sitt Hatun.'

  Mehmed lifted the boy and held him. 'Quiet, child,' he said. 'You must always remember: a sultan has no family, no friends, no lovers. He is married to the empire, and all are jealous of his bride.' Longo weakened ra
pidly after his interview with the sultan. He slept more and more, and even when he was awake he drifted in and out of consciousness. In his delirium, he sometimes spoke out loud, yelling for help to fend off the Turks. Mostly, however, he called out for Sofia, and she was always beside him to take his hand.

  On the evening of the 12th of June, fourteen days after the fall of Constantinople, Longo's delirium broke, and he woke suddenly lucid from a troubled sleep. He felt tired, almost relaxed despite the burning pain in his chest, and he knew that his time was near. Sofia was seated in a chair beside him, asleep. She had drifted off keeping watch over him. Her eyes were dark from too many tears and too many sleepless nights. 'Sofia,' Longo whispered hoarsely, barely able to speak. 'Sofia.'

  She awoke with a start and took his hand. 'You are awake,' she said. 'Are you thirsty? Shall I bring you water?'

  Longo shook his head. 'Send in Nicolo. And tell him to bring a quill and parchment.' Sofia nodded and left. A minute later Nicolo entered the room.

  'How are you, My Lord?'

  'Never better,' Longo said and smiled weakly. Nicolo chuckled, but there were tears in his eyes. 'Write what I say,' Longo told him. Nicolo nodded and took a seat at the small table in the cabin. Between laboured breaths, Longo dictated his last will, leaving his title and all his property on Chios to William. Once William was dead, the lands would revert to Longo's children.

  'William is young,' Longo said when it was done. 'Look after him for me, Nicolo. Make certain that his lands prosper.'

  'I will,' Nicolo replied.

  'Good. Now leave the paper and send in William, alone.' Nicolo left, and William entered and sat beside Longo. 'The paper,' Longo said, nodding towards his will. 'Take it. It is yours.'

  William took the paper and read. 'But Sofia should have your lands.'

  'No. You have more than earned them,' Longo said. 'I see myself in you, William. You have made me proud.'

  'Thank you,' William said, looking away to hide his tears.

  'Watch over Sofia for me. Watch over her and my child. You will be all the father that he ever knows. Promise me that you will protect him and treat him as your own.'

  'I swear it.'

  Longo nodded. 'Thank you, and goodbye, William. Send in Sofia when you go.' William took Longo's hand and pressed it; then he rose and left. Sofia entered and sat beside the bed. She carried a cup of water, which she held to his lips.

  'Try to drink something,' she said. 'It will help.'

  Longo shook his head. 'It is no use. It is too late for that.'

  'Do not say that. You must fight.'

  'This is one fight that I cannot win, Sofia,' Longo said. She took his hand, and they both fell silent. A wave of pain hit Longo, spreading out from his chest and contorting his body. The wave passed as suddenly as it had come, leaving him exhausted. He lay with his eyes closed, and Sofia leaned close to speak to him.

  'Are you still there?'

  'I am,' Longo whispered. 'I was thinking of that night on Corsica, our first kiss.'

  'I remember. It was the first time that I ever kissed a man.'

  'I thought that I would never see you again,' Longo said. 'But here we are, all three of us.'

  'Yes, all three of us,' Sofia agreed, placing his hand on her stomach. 'If it is a boy, he shall have your name.'

  'If it is a girl, name her Sofia.'

  'I will.' Sofia turned away as tears filled her eyes.

  'Do not weep for me,' Longo told her. 'My entire life has been one of battle and bloodshed, revenge and honour. You have given me something more. I am prepared to die.'

  'I do not weep for you,' Sofia replied. 'I cry for myself and for our child. He shall never know you.'

  'You will tell him about his father,' Longo said. 'About how he lived, and why he died. Our child shall know me through you.' Sofia nodded. Longo winced suddenly, his body again racked with pain. When the agony faded, it left him feeling tired and distant. He closed his eyes and sighed.

  'Do not leave me,' Sofia said, squeezing his hand. 'I need you.'

  'No, you are strong,' Longo whispered. 'And you have William.'

  'But I love you.'

  'I know,' Longo said. 'I…' But the words died on his lips as another spasm wracked his body. This time when the pain passed Longo felt himself letting go, embraced in a warm darkness. The world seemed far away, and it was all that he could do to open his eyes. He saw Sofia's face leaning over him, wavering but beautiful.

  'Thank you,' he whispered. 'Thank you for saving me.' He paused, struggling to take a last breath. 'I love you,' he said and closed his eyes. Longo felt himself falling away into darkness.

  As he slipped away, he heard Sofia's voice calling to him: 'I love you, too. I love you, Longo.' The last thing he felt was the touch of her lips on his. The next day Longo was cremated, and la Fortuna sailed for Chios, bearing his ashes. The seas were smooth and the journey a swift one. Shortly after they arrived, William was installed as lord of Longo's lands, and he and his wife Portia took up residence in Longo's villa on the island. Tristo's wife Maria joined them, keeping house and raising her young son, Benito.

  Sofia moved into the villa with them, and as the months passed her stomach grew large with the life inside her. Finally, on a cool evening in late January, her time came. Maria acted as the midwife, and Portia stayed to comfort Sofia. William stood outside the closed door of Sofia's room, pacing nervously as he listened to Sofia's cries.

  Sofia had never known such pain. Her labour lasted all night. She was exhausted, but still she kept straining and pushing. 'That's good,' Maria said gently, as Sofia pushed hard again. 'I can see the head. You're almost there.' Sofia bit down hard on the strip of leather between her teeth and pushed again. Finally, the child emerged, screaming. 'It's a girl!' Maria announced. She cut and knotted the umbilical cord, and then held the baby up for Sofia to see. But Sofia was not looking. Her eyes were closed tightly, and she was still straining. 'William!' Maria yelled. The door opened almost instantly. 'Take her and be gentle,' Maria said. William took the crying baby and stood holding her awkwardly. 'Well what are you waiting for? Go!' Maria snapped at him. 'There's more work to be done here. Twins, from the looks of it.'

  Maria returned to her stool at Sofia's feet. 'That's it,' Portia encouraged softly in Sofia's ear. 'Keep pushing. You're almost there.' Sofia moaned with the pain and exertion, but she kept pushing.

  'That's good. One more push,' Maria told her. Sofia strained one last time, and the second baby was out, wailing unhappily. 'A boy!' Maria declared happily. 'It's a boy!'

  Sofia smiled weakly. She was exhausted and numb with pain, but also happy, happier than she had ever been. 'I want to hold them,' she said. Maria gently placed the crying child in her arms. Sofia rocked him, and the boy quieted. 'Hello, my little Longo,' she whispered. William entered the room, and the baby girl was placed in Sofia's other arm. 'My beautiful Sofia,' she whispered and kissed the child on the forehead.

  'They are perfect, Sofia,' Portia said.

  'Two children,' William said. 'Longo would be proud.' Tears formed in Sofia's eyes. She nodded happily, unable to find the words to speak.

  'I suppose they are the heirs to the empire now,' William continued. 'The last of the Romans.'

  'No,' Sofia said. 'They are my children. Nothing more, nothing less.'

  'Well, that's enough gabbing,' Maria said tartly. 'Now everybody out and leave her be. She needs her rest.' She shooed William out of the door, then she carefully lifted up the infant Longo, and Portia took the baby Sofia. 'We'll look after them,' Maria told Sofia. 'You try to get some sleep. You'll need your strength to keep up with two little ones.'

  They left, and Sofia lay alone, exhausted but too happy to sleep. She stared up at the ceiling and smiled. 'Thank you, Longo,' she whispered. 'Thank you.' Mehmed ruled to an old age. He is known to history as Mehmed Fatih, or Mehmed the Conqueror. His son Bayezid followed him as the Ottoman Sultan, but Gulbehar never reigned as valide sultana. She died ha
ving not seen her son for many years. As for Sitt Hatun, she lived out her life alone, far from the Turkish court.

  The Emperor Constantine's body was never found. Constantine's brother, Demetrius, became Emperor of the Romans after Constantine's death. He had a brief reign. He ruled from Mistra for two years before Mistra fell to the Turks, and Demetrius was executed.

  Gennadius's reign as patriarch lasted eight years. In those eight years, he only left his cell for mass. He never left Saint Saviour Pantocrator.

  William prospered as the lord of Longo's lands. In time, he would leave to fight again, this time in Spain, with Longo's and Tristo's sons by his side. Longo's daughter, Sofia, would become an empress in time. But that is another story…

  As for Sofia, she lived to an old age. In 1497 she took Longo's ashes and returned to Constantinople. She died a month later. Sofia and Longo were buried together just outside the city walls, at the Shrine of the Virgin at Zoodochos Pege. The engraving on their tomb read simply: Here lie two Romans.

  Historical Note

  The major events and characters in Siege are real. The historic Longo was a Genoese lord and mercenary who Constantine elected to lead the defence of the city. His adversary, the Sultan Mehmed, was a young man who had been driven from the throne at an early age and wanted to prove himself by taking the queen of cities, Constantinople — kizil elma or the 'red apple', as the Turks called it. The characters of Constantine, Notaras, Sofia, Gennadius, Dalmata, Ulu, Sitt Hatun and Gulbehar are also based on real people. William, Tristo and Isa are the only purely fictional characters in the book, but each could have existed — English prisoners were occasionally sold at the slave markets in Constantinople; as a lord and soldier, Longo would have needed a lieutenant like Tristo; and poison dealers like Isa also existed, particularly in the Muslim world and the East, where techniques to distil and separate chemicals were more advanced. The white powder and the liquid that Isa uses in the book are both forms of cyanide, which was obtained at the time from cherry laurel leaves. The antidote given to Mehmed would have been a solution of hot water, sugar and saltpetre, the chief component of gunpowder.