The Lake of Sorrows (30 page)

Released so suddenly that he fell to his knees, Karayannis could not hide the fire of hatred in his eyes. “Oh, I shall stay sober and I shall do my utmost, for I know what horrors you would visit on Yannina if I refuse. But do not threaten me again! I
am
the best doctor in Yannina and if you kill me, you will most likely have killed your son’s hopes of surviving this. Do
you
understand?”

Eminee stepped between them. “You are obviously still light-headed - or hot-headed - from the opium, doctor. But you have discharged your duties well until now. Continue that way and we shall forget this. But do not let us smell opium anywhere near you while you are tending to our son!”

Karayannis rose slowly, his gaze locked into Eminee’s. She had her back to Alhi, so only the doctor could see the pleading in her eyes. He nodded curtly. “I shall do as you wish, my lady.” He turned his back on them without even the semblance of a bow and returned to Muhtar’s chamber.

Eminee laid a hand on Alhi’s arm. “You can punish him when he is not needed anymore, my husband. But are you not the one who always urges the wisdom of patience? Allah has returned our son to us. Let us not throw the gift away for a mere … misunderstanding.”

He gave her a sour, decidedly un-regal look. “That rogue would probably like to poison your precious son, woman. Do you not know he is the friend of that Vassiliou lady who has stolen Muhtar’s mind?”

“Should that not mean he will want to save Muhtar, if that lady loves him back?”

“Or it could mean he will want to kill Muhtar for making an adulteress of one of their precious oh-so-noble Greek ladies! But the Souliotes have most likely done his dirty work for him. By all that is holy, while we wait and hope for Muhtar’s recovery, I shall entertain myself by picking apart that Fotos cub with red-hot tongs!”

Tahir stepped in. “You cannot, my Pasha. He has escaped.”

“
What?
”

The guard captain wet his lips. “I guessed your wish and went to the dungeons to have the keeper, ah, prepare the boy. I found him and his assistant dead and the boy gone. I did not want to tell you while you worried about your son.”

“You did not — ” Alhi gaped. “Raise the alarm! Have the guards search every nook and cranny in the palace.”

“Already in hand, my Pasha. If he is still in the palace, he will be found very soon.”

“If he is still in the palace? What do you mean?”

“The dungeon-keeper was killed some hours ago, it seemed. Noone goes down there, he does not like to see anyone, and noone likes to see him.
Liked,
I should say.”

Alhi’s voice became horribly gentle. “Find that boy, Tahir. Find him soon. I have been betrayed and denied too often of late. I really cannot tolerate any more, you know.”

He brushed past the captain and strode down the corridor towards his chambers. Eminee exchanged a long glance with Tahir, then ran after him.

“R
umor has it that the Pasha’s army has been wiped out by the Souliotes. To the last man! Or almost. All that the beast Pasha got back was three whipped curs and a creaky cart with what remained of a fourth cur!”

Chryssie had bustled into the flower garden behind the Vassiliou house, jubilant, to find Froshenie lost in thought among the rose bushes. Her news, however, brought Froshenie back to the moment with a jolt.

“Muhtar!”

The merry smile vanished from Chryssie’s face and she almost snarled at her mistress. “For Heaven’s sake, be quiet, my lady. All of Yannina are dutifully looking worried and sad, but in their hearts they rejoice. The Pasha will soon muster a new army, to be sure, he is already summoning his levies - but at the moment, he is humbled.”

For once, Froshenie’s voice was dripping venom. “The Pasha would not know humility if it struck him with a sword!”

“Perhaps not, my sweet. But Yannina rejoices, I tell you. The city has not forgotten that little girl he took to the lake. To them, this is God’s punishment. And if you cry and pine for the beast Pasha’s son, they might stone
you
as God’s punishment.”

“God allowed the Pasha to drown that poor girl, too, do not forget that.”

“Alhi’s god is not ours.”

“The priests always say that ours is all-powerful, do they not? Then how can another god push him aside?”

Chryssie looked right and left uneasily. “Hush, child! Do not add heresy to … sin!”

“Vaya! Do you really think of my love - and Muhtar’s - as sin?”

“I love you as a daughter, poor girl. And perhaps I cannot think of your love as sin, not even when it is for
him.
But, to the priests, love between a married man and a married woman, who are not married to each other — that is sin! And a grave one, too!”

“But the rich men keeping mistresses in little town houses that they visit when they think their wives do not know — that is sanctity, is it? Oh, do not think I am blind just because you want me to be your naive little fool forever.”

“I am trying to protect you!”

“
Protect
me?” There was savagery in Froshenie’s voice.

“Yes, my sweet. From yourself. You should not even whisper of your love. You want to scream it from the rooftops.”

“Perhaps I should. By God, I think I shall! The hypocrites — ” Froshenie stomped her foot, then started up the stone path leading to the gate.

Chryssie pounced on her, gripping Froshenie by both arms. “By God, you shall
not!
”

Struggling, they stumbled this way and that on the stone path - then slammed into someone.

Both froze and looked at their unexpected visitor. They gasped in unison at the sight.

The visitor was a haggard, stooping, tattered soldier of the Yannina army. A bloody, filthy bandage and sling swathed and held up his right arm and another bandage, equally miserable, covered his left eye. The other eye darted around constantly, furtively. “Lady Froshenie Vassiliou?”

Froshenie stepped back, eyes wide, Chryssie stepped forward, eyes narrow and challenging. “My mistress is the lady Froshenie, yes. What is your business in her house?”

The soldier rummaged around inside his tunic and brought forth something that shone gold and green in the last rays of the sunset. “My master, the Bey of Yannina, sends the lady Froshenie this.”

Chryssie took one look at the object and jumped back. “No! Never. Take that infernal thing away. Throw it in a ditch somewhere. We will not take it. Never!”

The soldier stood his ground desperately, his begging eye seeking Froshenie. “My lady, please. My master insisted. I gave him my word and he once saved my life. I will not fail him in this.”

Waving her hands furiously, Chryssie advanced on him. “Go away, in God’s and Allah’s name. We do not want — “

“Chryssie!” The single word from Froshenie carried such razor sharpness that Chryssie jumped again. Furiously, she turned on her mistress. “Are you mad? That is the snake ring the Bey was given by his snake wife. If she hears it is now on your finger, she will have your head!
Everyone
knows this ring.”

The soldier spoke quietly. “That is why my master sent it to your mistress. Anyone who sees that ring will know that whoever carries it is very … important to him.”

Froshenie brushed past her and spoke to the soldier with such a gentle voice that it brought a smile to his tortured face. “I thank you, soldier. I see you have suffered much to keep your word to your master. You should not suffer any more.”

She took the ring from his hand and closed her fingers tightly around it. Her voice was trembling when she spoke again. “So he lives?”

“He does, my lady, but … he was wounded.”

She could not bring herself to ask the next question, but the soldier understood. “A chest wound, my lady. But he lives and breathes and is now being cared for by that Greek doctor that the Pasha favors.”

“Karayannis.” Froshenie could barely breathe.

“I believe that is his name. He is said to be a good doctor, my lady. A magnificent doctor.”

Chryssie was waving her hands again. “Very well, there, now you have run your errand, now go away, before anyone sees you here and — “

Her mistress abruptly found her sharpness again. “Enough, Chryssie! Go summon a doctor, if not Karayannis, then someone else. And you, soldier, come with me. You need food and drink as much as your wounds need tending to. I owe you a great debt of gratitude for bringing me this.”

Stepping aside, she held out an encouraging hand to the hesitant soldier. Chryssie shook her head violently. “A wounded enemy soldier in our house? What do you think the Yanniotes will — “

“I do not care!” Froshenie was gazing at the palace’s distant spires, eyes full of yearning, but the edge was still in her voice. “If they hate me for being in love, I can live with their holding me in contempt for being kind! Now go fetch the doctor. And no more arguments!”

Muttering obscenities under her breath, Chryssie trotted off. She refused to run.

When she was out of sight, Froshenie fainted. The soldier and the cook, who came running from the house, helped each other carry her inside.

A
lhi threw himself on his bed. “I have slept more these past few days than in the rest of my adult life, Eminee. And yet I feel exhausted.”

Eminee sat down beside him and gently stroked his forehead, making him sigh and close his eyes. “You are the Pasha, my husband. You have a thousand things to worry about.”

He sighed again. “And being surrounded by knaves and rogues and rebels and traitors makes it no easier.”

“I know. You need someone by your side. You should call Velis back from Constantinople, in case Muhtar … in case we no longer have him.”

“That fool Velis never was any help to anyone. Except as my hostage to the Sublime Porte. And who would I offer in his stead? I have only two sons. Yulebahar’s toddler hardly counts yet.”

“You … should have warned Muhtar.”

He sat up sharply, brushing her hand away. “No! I have been betrayed time and again, and I am yet Pasha and those who betrayed me are in their graves. Or will be. Oh, Allah, when I lay my hands on that Zavellas. People will not even have the courage to tell each other of his end.”

“I … warned you about Souli, my husband. And now they have those French weapons.”

“But not the skills to use them. The French artillerymen fought to the death because they did not understand the words when the Souliotes tried to make them lay down their arms. Those three wretches that came back told me as much.” He gritted his teeth. “No, the Souliotes are just keeping those cannon for me, until I come to get them back.”

“You have only just called up your levies. It will be a long time before they are ready.”

“Muhtar will make them ready. The lad had better get well soon!”

“Please, my husband, be patient.”

Alhi sat up, shaking his head with frustration. “How can I
afford
patience, woman? My army is gone, my cannon is gone, my son … cannot be at my side for some time. And we have lost our hostage, even if he did not do us much good.”

Rubbing his eyes, Alhi walked to his balcony. “But, truth to tell, I do not want Tahir to find the Zavellas boy.”

Eminee’s eyes widened. He saw it and smiled a smile with next to no mirth and no warmth at all. “I wish to take my vengeance on Souli, on its captains. Not on a shivering little brat in my dungeon. Where is the glory in that? What enemy would be awed or cowed by that? But that gives me yet another problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“
Someone
must be punished for letting him escape. I cannot be seen to let anyone free my prisoners. My first choice would have been the dungeon-keeper, of course, but he obviously cannot help me. Neither can his assistant. The next logical choice is to have a few guards over a slow fire until they confess. But I need a loyal guard more than ever while I raise a new army. Tahir, perhaps? His men revere him, but whoever is his second-in-command cannot rise any higher while Tahir is above him, now can he? What do you think?”

Eminee spoke most carefully. “I think I am very happy to see you can still be the Lion of Hyperus and not a petty, vindictive killer of boys. As to Tahir, I think I can present you with a better solution, if you will give me until tomorrow.”

He frowned at her. “You have given me advice better than that of many a man and you have done so more than once. What do you have in mind?”

“Please, my love. Tomorrow. I must think of Muhtar first.”

“And I must think of the respect due to the Pasha.”

She stared back at him in defiant silence, and her face was more like a hawk’s than ever.

Alhi eventually shrugged, but then thrust out his chin. “But tomorrow, then. Before the end of the day. No later.”

She nodded and hurried to leave, before he could change his mind.

Tahir was waiting outside. He dared not ask the obvious questions, but his eyes spoke eloquently enough.

“Yes, Tahir. He wants a victim. We shall give him one. And no, not you.”

“Forgive me, my lady, but you never balked at a death, if it furthered your husband’s cause.”

“And I am not about to begin now. But
someone
needs to fan that spark of greatness still left in him, Tahir. And he only rarely listens to a mere woman such as I. He needs you more than ever now. We must give him another death.”

“You speak as if you already have one in mind?”

“I do. But all in good time.”

“F
roshenie … “

Doctor Karayannis, half asleep on the hard, wooden stool by Muhtar’s bedside, woke with a start. He turned his head quickly and, at the other end of the bedchamber, saw the lady Pashou, reclining like a relaxed, but alert cat on a divan.

“Froshenie … ” Muhtar had muttered that name throughout the long night and following day after his homecoming. His fever had gone from bad to worse and the doctor had not dared leave the patient. Pashou had entered the room in the morning, sat on the divan and remained there all day, without a word.

Now she rose and walked slowly to the bedside. “Tedious, is it not, doctor? Hearing that name over and over again?”