Now I Rise
Page 79
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Nicolae did not have time to inquire further about how, exactly, Lada’s breasts had saved her men. The first enemy soldiers had begun coming out of the trees, moving with exaggerated stillness. Still believing the element of surprise was theirs, they looked up and down the road, then gestured for the others to join them.
It was not as big a force as her own, but if they had been able to use the cover of the trees and catch her men unaware, Lada did not want to think how it might have devastated her numbers. She lifted a fist, then lowered it. Crossbow bolts sang through the trees onto the road, cutting down half the men. The other half scrambled to load their own crossbows and form a rank, but by then it was too late. Lada’s men roared out of the trees, an unbreakable wave of swords and strength.
When it was over and only a handful of their enemies remained, Lada joined them on the road. The men sat in a miserable circle, stripped of their weapons. Some bled. Bleeding was not always a weakness, though. Lada laughed to herself.
One of the soldiers on the road was the man who had had the decency to blush and look away. Lada pointed to him. “That one lives. Kill the rest.” She ignored the messy work going on around the blushing man. “Did the prince send you?”
He cringed at the sound of sword separating soul from body. “Yes. We were supposed to kill you.”
“And even though you were coming for me, you did not wonder if the girl in the woods was the one you hunted?”
He did not meet her eyes. “We assumed you would be somewhere safe. In a carriage, with guards. You are not what I expected. The prince said it would be easy.”
“I am not so easy to get rid of.” She offered him a hand. “You can go back and tell him that. Or you can stay and join my men.”
He trembled from head to toe. “I will stay?” He finally glanced up to meet her eyes, and she knew he looked for confirmation of whether or not he had made the right choice. She had not lied to him—she would have let him go. But doubtless he thought that would have resulted in his death.
She nodded. “Very well.”
“That was lucky,” Nicolae said, leading Lada’s horse out of the trees alongside his own horse. “You were right. Sometimes you do need to be alone.”
Lada could not quite smile. It could have ended much differently. She pulled the reassuring weight of the chain mail around herself. Better to be a soldier than a woman.
Better to be a prince than anything.
41
May 24–25
“THIS MAN IS a snake and a liar,” Halil said, sneering at Radu. “I wondered where he had slithered off to.” Radu took a steadying breath, reminding himself of all the times he had played a part to manipulate his old foe. He could do it here. He had to. “I should think, given your peaceful views of the city, you would envy those of us who had the courage to leave the tyrant sultan and serve the cause of the emperor.”
Halil snorted. “If you have courage, I am a donkey.”
“That has always been my personal opinion of you, but I never expected you to agree with me.”
Halil’s face turned a violent shade of red. “Get him out of here.”
Constantine held out his hands in placation. “I do not know your history, but Radu has been instrumental to us. His advice and information are testament enough of his loyalty.” Constantine raised a single eyebrow. “And he has no towers named after him in fortresses on my land.”
Halil’s scowl deepened. “You know I had no choice.”
“There is always a choice. We appreciate your information and friendship, but you remain safely outside the walls. Radu is here.”
“My position is not safe! No one’s is. The camp is on the edge of riot. Daily we meet, and I urge negotiating peace, while others demand we give no quarter. I could not do that if I had not stayed with the sultan!”
Constantine rubbed his face wearily. “Tell me why you are here.”
Halil threw a single piece of parchment on the table next to him. “Mehmed offers you terms of surrender. I will await your response.” Leveling a murderous glare at Radu, Halil stomped out of the room.
Constantine read the letter, scratching absently at his beard. Droplets of blood broke through the skin. “He will let me go into the Peloponnese and be a governor there.”
“We have wanted you to leave the city,” Giustiniani said gently. “We need you safe, and then we can gather allies.”
Constantine sighed. “If I leave the city, I am never getting back in. I cannot do it. But …” He paused, tracing a finger over the bottom half of the letter. “If we open the gates, they will march through peacefully, leaving all citizens and property unmolested.” He looked up at Radu. “Do you think he will honor that?”
“He will.” Radu felt the first true spark of hope in ages. He had been right not to kill Constantine! Another way to end this siege had been given to him. “It is Muslim law. If you surrender, they have to respect that. There will be no prisoners, no slaves, no looting.”
Giustiniani scoffed. “I doubt that very much.”
“You have seen the order of his camp, the control he has over his men. He wants the city itself, not anything in it. He does not want to destroy it—he wants to own it. I will stake my life on his truthfulness in this matter. He will honor these terms. All your people will be spared.”
“And the Christian capital of the world will be handed over to their god.”
Radu chose his next words carefully. “If they take the city by force, they have three days for looting and doing anything else they wish. But if you surrender, the Ottomans treat their vassal states well. We would all have to run or risk death, but your people would not suffer under the sultan’s rule.”
Constantine’s smile was as brittle as spring ice on a river. “The same cannot be said for my rule. How my people have suffered. How my city has darkened.” He looked at Cyprian, fondness in his expression. “What is your counsel, nephew?”
Today Cyprian’s eyes were not gray like the sea or the clouds. They were gray like the ancient, weary rocks of the city. Radu knew that the nameless child dead in the streets had come into the room with them. “We have lost so much. Perhaps this is a way to avoid losing everything. Our people would not be slaughtered or sold into slavery. You would live.” He put a hand on his uncle’s shoulder, his voice breaking. “I want you to live.”
It was not as big a force as her own, but if they had been able to use the cover of the trees and catch her men unaware, Lada did not want to think how it might have devastated her numbers. She lifted a fist, then lowered it. Crossbow bolts sang through the trees onto the road, cutting down half the men. The other half scrambled to load their own crossbows and form a rank, but by then it was too late. Lada’s men roared out of the trees, an unbreakable wave of swords and strength.
When it was over and only a handful of their enemies remained, Lada joined them on the road. The men sat in a miserable circle, stripped of their weapons. Some bled. Bleeding was not always a weakness, though. Lada laughed to herself.
One of the soldiers on the road was the man who had had the decency to blush and look away. Lada pointed to him. “That one lives. Kill the rest.” She ignored the messy work going on around the blushing man. “Did the prince send you?”
He cringed at the sound of sword separating soul from body. “Yes. We were supposed to kill you.”
“And even though you were coming for me, you did not wonder if the girl in the woods was the one you hunted?”
He did not meet her eyes. “We assumed you would be somewhere safe. In a carriage, with guards. You are not what I expected. The prince said it would be easy.”
“I am not so easy to get rid of.” She offered him a hand. “You can go back and tell him that. Or you can stay and join my men.”
He trembled from head to toe. “I will stay?” He finally glanced up to meet her eyes, and she knew he looked for confirmation of whether or not he had made the right choice. She had not lied to him—she would have let him go. But doubtless he thought that would have resulted in his death.
She nodded. “Very well.”
“That was lucky,” Nicolae said, leading Lada’s horse out of the trees alongside his own horse. “You were right. Sometimes you do need to be alone.”
Lada could not quite smile. It could have ended much differently. She pulled the reassuring weight of the chain mail around herself. Better to be a soldier than a woman.
Better to be a prince than anything.
41
May 24–25
“THIS MAN IS a snake and a liar,” Halil said, sneering at Radu. “I wondered where he had slithered off to.” Radu took a steadying breath, reminding himself of all the times he had played a part to manipulate his old foe. He could do it here. He had to. “I should think, given your peaceful views of the city, you would envy those of us who had the courage to leave the tyrant sultan and serve the cause of the emperor.”
Halil snorted. “If you have courage, I am a donkey.”
“That has always been my personal opinion of you, but I never expected you to agree with me.”
Halil’s face turned a violent shade of red. “Get him out of here.”
Constantine held out his hands in placation. “I do not know your history, but Radu has been instrumental to us. His advice and information are testament enough of his loyalty.” Constantine raised a single eyebrow. “And he has no towers named after him in fortresses on my land.”
Halil’s scowl deepened. “You know I had no choice.”
“There is always a choice. We appreciate your information and friendship, but you remain safely outside the walls. Radu is here.”
“My position is not safe! No one’s is. The camp is on the edge of riot. Daily we meet, and I urge negotiating peace, while others demand we give no quarter. I could not do that if I had not stayed with the sultan!”
Constantine rubbed his face wearily. “Tell me why you are here.”
Halil threw a single piece of parchment on the table next to him. “Mehmed offers you terms of surrender. I will await your response.” Leveling a murderous glare at Radu, Halil stomped out of the room.
Constantine read the letter, scratching absently at his beard. Droplets of blood broke through the skin. “He will let me go into the Peloponnese and be a governor there.”
“We have wanted you to leave the city,” Giustiniani said gently. “We need you safe, and then we can gather allies.”
Constantine sighed. “If I leave the city, I am never getting back in. I cannot do it. But …” He paused, tracing a finger over the bottom half of the letter. “If we open the gates, they will march through peacefully, leaving all citizens and property unmolested.” He looked up at Radu. “Do you think he will honor that?”
“He will.” Radu felt the first true spark of hope in ages. He had been right not to kill Constantine! Another way to end this siege had been given to him. “It is Muslim law. If you surrender, they have to respect that. There will be no prisoners, no slaves, no looting.”
Giustiniani scoffed. “I doubt that very much.”
“You have seen the order of his camp, the control he has over his men. He wants the city itself, not anything in it. He does not want to destroy it—he wants to own it. I will stake my life on his truthfulness in this matter. He will honor these terms. All your people will be spared.”
“And the Christian capital of the world will be handed over to their god.”
Radu chose his next words carefully. “If they take the city by force, they have three days for looting and doing anything else they wish. But if you surrender, the Ottomans treat their vassal states well. We would all have to run or risk death, but your people would not suffer under the sultan’s rule.”
Constantine’s smile was as brittle as spring ice on a river. “The same cannot be said for my rule. How my people have suffered. How my city has darkened.” He looked at Cyprian, fondness in his expression. “What is your counsel, nephew?”
Today Cyprian’s eyes were not gray like the sea or the clouds. They were gray like the ancient, weary rocks of the city. Radu knew that the nameless child dead in the streets had come into the room with them. “We have lost so much. Perhaps this is a way to avoid losing everything. Our people would not be slaughtered or sold into slavery. You would live.” He put a hand on his uncle’s shoulder, his voice breaking. “I want you to live.”
