meeting the eyes of the men around him. 'Now,' he continued. 'Who will follow me to glory? Who will serve their sultan, even unto death?'
At first, there was simply frozen silence, and then a janissary near Mehmed knelt and raised his fist in salute. Another followed him and then another, until all around Mehmed the janissaries knelt. Ulu bellowed out 'Hail to the sultan!' and the cry was taken up and repeated. The chant swelled and swept over Mehmed. The men's cheering was intoxicating. For the first time since taking the throne, he truly felt like the sultan. But his work was not done. He had dealt with the janissaries. Now he had to deal with their leaders.
As the chanting and cheering subsided, Mehmed turned and called Ulu to him. 'Enter the tent,' Mehmed told him. 'Seize the commanders, but do not kill them.' Ulu nodded and led his men into the tent, their weapons drawn. When the shouts and clash of arms had faded, Mehmed strode in after them.
He found the leaders of the rebellion, eight janissary commanders, kneeling on the floor of the tent, each with a sword to their throat. 'If I allow you to live,' Mehmed told them, 'then I will never see the end of challenges to my authority. I am a just sultan, and betrayal of this sort demands justice. Ulu, take these men outside and have them beheaded before their men. Be quick about it, and do not let it become a spectacle. Let my men see that I deliver justice swiftly and fairly.'
The commanders begged for mercy, but Mehmed ignored them as they were dragged from the tent. He went to his private quarters and poured himself a cup of wine. He tried to drink as little as possible while in the field. After all, alcohol was forbidden by the Koran, and he did not want his men to think him impious. Still, after the events of the night he felt the need for something stronger than water. As he raised the cup to his lips he heard from outside a strangled cry and the sickening thud of the executioner's sword. He set the cup back down, untasted. After bathing and changing into breeches and a tunic, Longo did not reach the palace until after midnight, but the victory celebration was still in full swing. The palace's great hall was packed with soldiers and women, all drinking toast after toast to victory. Longo paused at the entrance to the hall, and a herald announced him. The crowd cheered and raised their cups in salute. Longo found himself surrounded by well-wishers. As he greeted a succession of men and women, he scanned the hall looking for Sofia. He spied Tristo roaring with laughter and William smiling at his friend's merriment, but Sofia was nowhere to be seen.
'Congratulations, my friend!' Constantine exclaimed as he approached Longo. 'What a glorious victory. God is truly with us! The Turks will never conquer these walls!'
'I hope that you are right, Emperor,' Longo began, but the rest of his remarks were cut short by the herald announcing the arrival of Megadux Lucas Notaras. Longo noticed that the cheering was even louder for Notaras than it had been for him and was pleased. Perhaps this glory would make Notaras more cooperative.
'Ah, the megadux,' Constantine said. 'I must congratulate him as well. Without his cannons, the battle would have been lost.' Constantine moved away, and Longo made his way through the crowded hall looking for Sofia. When he did not see her there, he headed out into the interior garden. It was empty.
'Looking for someone?' Startled, Longo turned to find Notaras standing at the entrance to the hall. The megadux had a dangerous gleam in his eye, and Longo suspected that he had been drinking.
'No,' Longo lied. 'The hall was crowded. I just wanted some fresh air.'
Notaras stepped out of the shadows and into the garden. 'I see,' he said. 'I thought perhaps you might be searching for Princess Sofia. The two of you seem to be very close.'
'I do not like your tone, Notaras,' Longo replied. 'Be careful what you say.'
'No, Signor Giustiniani, it is you who should be careful.' Notaras stepped forward so that he and Longo were face to face. Longo could smell the wine on his breath. 'I know about the tunnels, and I also know about your late- night meeting with Princess Sofia. Mark me well, signor: I will do whatever is necessary to protect her honour and my own.' Notaras stepped past Longo and strode from the garden.
Longo watched him go. Notaras must have surprised Sofia last night when she was returning from the tunnel. Now the megadux was jealous, and jealous men were dangerous. Was that why Sofia was not at the celebration? Had Notaras done something to her? There was only one sure way to find out. Longo headed for the kitchen and the secret passage to Sofia's chambers. He reached the end of the secret passage and fumbled in the darkness for the mechanism to open the door. When he finally found the catch and pulled the door open, he found Sofia standing before him, dressed in a thin sleeping tunic and holding a sword. She smiled when she saw him and dropped the sword. 'It's you,' she said and stepped into his arms, kissing him. 'Thank God you are all right. I heard news of the battle and feared the worst.' She stepped out of his arms, and suddenly realizing that her tunic was not entirely opaque, went to the bed and threw a blanket over her shoulders.
Longo discreetly turned his head. 'Why did you not come to the celebration?' he asked.
'Constantine has forbidden me from leaving my quarters after sunset,' Sofia said. 'Notaras told him I was roaming the palace late last night.'
'Notaras warned me not to see you,' Longo said.
'He is not a man to be trifled with. You should take his warning seriously.'
'I know.'
'Yet you are here.'
'I wanted to make sure that you were all right. When you did not appear tonight, I feared that something had happened.'
'And is that the only reason you came?' Sofia asked.
'No, no it's not,' Longo said. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Her mouth opened to his, and his hands moved down her sides, encircling her thin waist and pulling her into him. Sofia kissed him greedily and began to unbutton his doublet. Longo pulled back. 'Are you sure?'
Sofia stepped back and slipped the blanket from her shoulders, revealing her firm breasts, just visible through her tunic. 'I have never been more sure. I have chosen you to love, Longo.' Then she took his hand and led him to her bed.
Chapter 17
SUNDAY 22 APRIL TO THURSDAY 3 MAY 1453, CONSTANTINOPLE: DAYS 22 TO 33 OF THE SIEGE
Sunrise was more than an hour away, and Sofia's bedroom was still dark when Longo rose and began to dress. He had come to her chambers each of the past five nights, risking their reputations and perhaps even their lives to be with her. He watched her now as she slept, a strand of her chestnut hair falling over her peaceful face, and decided once more that the risk had been worth it. He buckled on his sword belt and was about to leave when Sofia stirred in bed. 'It is early yet,' she said, sitting up. 'Where are you going?'
'To the walls. The night grows long, and if I am not at my post by dawn, then I will be missed.'
'Will you return tonight?'
'I do not know. We are risking much, Sofia. If we are discovered, then you will be ruined.'
To Longo's surprise, she laughed. 'I would rather be ruined than live out the rest of my life locked up behind doors as a proper lady. Tell me that you will come again tonight.'
Longo looked at her, fiery and beautiful, and felt his resistance crumbling. 'I will come if I am able.'
Sofia rose and kissed him. 'Then go and be safe. I will see you tonight.'
Longo left through the secret passage and emerged into a dark, empty side street next to the palace. He strode towards his post on the wall at the military gate of St Romanus, overlooking the Mesoteichion. Once he thought he heard footsteps behind him, but when he turned he saw nothing. It was not the first time in the last five nights that he had suspected he was being followed. He could not forget what William had told him: the Spanish assassin was here in Constantinople. He tightened his grip on his sword and slowed his pace, listening for footsteps, but he reached the wall without further incident.
Longo stood atop the wall as the sky around him lightened, revealing first the stockade below and then the fields beyond, stretching away to the Turkish ramparts and their camp. There was little movement anywhere — even the air was still — and the occasional boom of the Turkish cannons seemed muffled. Looking out over this sleeping world, Longo felt himself at peace. For the first time that he could remember, he cared about something more than revenge. He was not here simply to defeat the Turks. He was here to save the city, and Sofia.
The sun rose fiery orange over the distant hills, giving a pinkish cast to the world. On the walls of
