The Walls of Byzantium by James Heneage Page B

Mamonas nodded slowly, the thinnest smile on hislips. ‘Yes. I’d thought of that. And knew you would have too. We will discuss it over dinner.’

    Later, when they’d eaten and talked of business, they had a visitor. There was disturbance outside the room and the doors flew open. The Archon was so astonished by the sight of the man who entered that he forgot to bow.
    It was the heir to the Ottoman throne.
    Zoe had not even considered bowing. She wanted an uninterrupted view of this man she’d heard so much about. It was not the first time that he’d visited the palace but it was the first time that she’d set eyes on him.
    The eyes that looked back into hers contained a mockery that men found disconcerting and Zoe intriguing. There was something depraved in the way they raked her body, lingering on her breasts for a period that would have insulted most women. Then a smile spread across his lips as she held his gaze. His skin was dark and unmarked, his nose hooked and prominent and his short black beard oiled to a perfect point beneath his chin. He was more attractive than any man Zoe had ever seen.
    ‘Well, well,’ he murmured as he walked towards her. ‘Pavlos, you never told me your riches extended to such a beautiful daughter.’ He bowed extravagantly, sweeping his cloak over his shoulder and kissing Zoe’s hand, his tongue darting out to make secret contact with her skin. Zoe felt a shock run through her.
    ‘Prince Suleyman, you are welcome,’ her father said, bowing. ‘My daughter Zoe.’
    ‘Zoe, how charming,’ said the Prince, his eyes not leaving her face. ‘Are you married?’
    ‘No, lord. Not even matched,’ she replied. ‘And you, sir, are you married or are all your pleasures to be found only in the harem?’
    Suleyman smiled and turned to her father. ‘What a girl! The second minx I’ve encountered in as many days! What on earth do you Greeks feed your daughters?’
    The Archon raised an eyebrow. ‘Second, lord?’ he enquired.
    Suleyman laughed. ‘I’ll explain everything, but first I need some of your delicious wine, Pavlos. My accursed religion prevents me from drinking with the army, so I must make up for lost time with you. Bring me some wine.’
    Suleyman walked on to the dais and slumped into the Archon’s throne, throwing his leg over an arm, taking the wine offered him. He drank it in one gulp and stretched out his arm for more.
    He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and glanced at Zoe. ‘Does she—?’ he began before the Archon cut him off.
    ‘My family has no secrets, lord,’ said the Archon smoothly. ‘You may speak freely.’
    ‘Ah, good. Well, you may know that Mistra was not taken?’
    ‘I had heard as much,’ said the Archon, with no trace of emotion in his voice.
    ‘Yes, well, I know we had an agreement, but we may have to approach things differently.’
    ‘Differently, lord?’ enquired the Archon.
    ‘Yes, differently, Pavlos. You understand what differently means?’ Irritation was creeping into Suleyman’s voice. ‘It means that situations change and we must change our plans to suit them.’
    ‘What has changed, lord?’ asked Mamonas evenly.
    ‘Well, for one thing, their citadel is impregnable,’ the Prince said shortly. ‘And for another, they have cannon.’
    Now it was the Archon’s turn to laugh. ‘Cannon, my lord? Who told you that?’
    ‘The daughter of the Protostrator. I captured her outside the city. Her name is Anna Laskaris.’
    The Archon seemed to consider this. He had to be careful. ‘They have no cannon, lord,’ he said. ‘They barely have enough arrows to shoot a dozen volleys at your army. The girl lied to you.’
    Suleyman jumped to his feet, his glass shattering on the marble floor. He grabbed the Archon by his tunic. His face was red with rage. ‘Mamonas, you go too far,’ he breathed through clenched teeth. ‘If my judgement tells me we cannot take Mistra then who are you to question it?’
    Zoe stepped forward.