The Tournament (32 page)

‘And so, still watching him, I just sidled over to the nearest bath and slid into its gloriously heated waters. Then I lay on a marble island a short distance from his throne, my body glistening all over with wetness.

‘Then, while he was still pumping the Persian girl, the prince called over one of his friends and whispered to him, nodding at me.

‘The friend, a muscular fellow named Fariq who would have been the catch of any ball back home, strode over to my island and offered me his manhood.

‘What to do, Bess? Do I wait for the prince’s attentions? Or do I let this lesser man occupy me? In the end, I decided that since the prince had sent him to me, what followed would be done for the prince’s gratification.

‘So I nodded to Fariq, rolled over, knelt on all fours and let him, still standing in the pool, enter me from behind.

‘Fariq was actually quite skilled and I must say, gave me genuine pleasure with his slow measured movements, but I had positioned myself so that as Fariq thrust himself into me, I faced the Crown Prince—thus while the prince and I engaged with different lovers, in truth our eyes never parted and in reality we were making love to each other.

‘Clearly, the Crown Prince also knew this was the case, for after a short while, he extracted himself from the Persian girl and called in Greek, “Fariq! Enough! English rose, over here, now!”

‘I removed myself from Fariq and sauntered over to the Crown Prince’s platform while he handed the three Persian girls off to his friends. I stood before him. He gazed approvingly at my entirely hairless body.

‘“English rose, I hear that you are magnificent,” he said. “Prove it.”

‘“If it pleases Your Highness,” I said. I knew that he favoured girls bending over before him so that he could enter them at his leisure, so instead I mounted him face to face, kneeling on the armrests of the marble throne on which he sat and lowering myself onto his member. This allowed me to control the rhythm of our lovemaking.

‘And so I called upon all the sensual skills I have gained and I pleasured him as he had never been pleasured before.

‘I rode him like a stallion, Bessie. Rolling my hips, arching my back, extending my breasts skyward—to the point where I could feel his manhood harden even more inside me and I had him groaning with my every rise and fall. When this happened, I knew I had him under my spell.

‘I should say that by this time most other men would have succumbed to an involuntary climax but the prince was clearly an experienced fellow and possessed considerable stamina. But eventually I outlasted him and his breathing quickened and I increased the speed of my hip motions, enhancing his pleasure as he rushed toward climax, and finally he yelped with delight and fell back onto his throne, spent and exhilarated, a broad grin spread across his face.

‘I had him three more times during the night, Bessie. I should mention that he genuinely pleasured me and on each occasion I shouted in ecstasy, his skills setting off fireworks throughout my body. The prince is a seasoned and skilled lover.

‘Anyway, as dawn approached and all the others were fading off to sleep—they had been indulging in their own pleasurable acts in the various corners of the bath-house while I had been frolicking with the prince—Selim said to me, “English rose, you are a lover fit for a king. I thank you.”

‘With those words, I took my leave and just before dawn, I returned to our rooms. Oh, Bessie. “A lover fit for a king.” What do you think that means? In any case, I have had my chance to cast a spell over a prince and I have given it my best possible effort. It is now up to him to decide if he wants me in his bed forever.’

I was happy for Elsie, and I wanted her to be happy, but I had my doubts. From observing my own father, I knew that kings and princes accepted the favours of many women while offering absolutely nothing in return, except in some cases the enduring shame of a bastard.

But Elsie was excited, deliriously excited, and so all I said was, ‘I am happy for you, Elsie. After this night, you may well be closer to queenhood than I am.’

She hugged me tightly. ‘Oh, Bessie. Oh, Bessie.’ She wanted to continue talking about her night with the Crown Prince and becoming a queen, but I begged her off, buried my head in my pillow and turned away.

I’d had enough of chess and wolves and princes for one day. All I wanted to do was sleep.

ONLY ONE PIECE IN
chess is allowed to leap over other pieces: the knight. This curious L-shaped move makes him both unpredictable and particularly dangerous.

If chess is a metaphor for medieval society, then the placement of the knight on the board is worth noting. He does not stand at the side of his king; rather, he is separated from his master by both the queen and a bishop.

Even in the Middle Ages, a knight was simply a king’s enforcer both on the battlefield and on his estates. Real power resided at court with queens, ministers and religious advisors.

This is also reflected in the ‘relative values’ placed on chess pieces: bishops, rooks and the queen all outrank the knight. It is better to sacrifice a knight than any of them.

The loyal knight, astride his prancing horse, is designed only to be sent into battle by his king to die. In chess as in life, the knight is ultimately expendable.

From:
Chess in the Middle Ages
,
Tel Jackson (W.M. Lawry & Co., London, 1992)

I have had good experience and trial of this world . . . I know what it is to be a subject, what to be a sovereign, what to have good neighbours, and sometimes meet evil willers.

–
QUEEN ELIZABETH I

AFTER TWO ROUNDS OF the highest quality chess—and some of the highest quality cheating at chess—only four players remained in the tournament: the Sultan’s cousin, Zaman, Brother Raul from the Papal States, our own Mr Giles, and the people’s champion, Ibrahim from Constantinople.

Once again, an updated draw was slid under our door that morning. It read:

Since there were now only three matches to be played (two semi finals and the final) the second playing stage had been removed so that once again only a single stage occupied the centre of the Hagia Sophia.

For reasons that only the functionaries of the Sultan knew, today the
lower
half of the draw would play first, in the morning. I suspected this was because the Sultan’s cousin needed more coaching before his match.

Thus the first semi final to be played would be that between Mr Giles and Ibrahim. In the afternoon, Zaman would do battle against Brother Raul. That match would be a battle of faiths if ever there was one. Bet-takers in the streets were apparently calling it ‘The New Crusade’.

The citizens of Constantinople gathered both inside and outside the Hagia Sophia, their enthusiasm almost tangible. The day promised to be a most gripping one.

It would be more than that.

As Mr Giles strode out through the crowd to the playing stage, Mr Ascham, Elsie and I ascended the royal stage. Latif, as usual, followed behind us.

I yawned deeply as I looked out at the chessboard and the sea of people around it. Not an inch of floor space was bare and the crowd laughed and chatted amiably, enjoying the occasion. Beside me, Mr Ascham stifled a yawn, too. We had both managed to get a few hours’ sleep during the morning, and though outrageously tired, I was awake enough to take in the remarkable occasion before me.

Having said that, I could not help but compare this luminous, gay world to the subterranean one I had seen the previous night. The people of this world happily went about their lives—lives of work and play, food and joy, watching and gambling on spectacles like this chess tournament, blissfully unaware of the cruel existence going on in the cisterns beneath their feet.

Or maybe they were aware of it. The priests who had come down to the cistern to rent those children’s bodies were certainly aware of their plight. People, I surmised, were actually keenly aware of any superiority they had over other people.

I shook my head, clearing it of such thoughts.

Mr Ascham’s and Mr Giles’s pre-match strategy discussion had been short on this occasion. Ibrahim was roughly the same age as Mr Giles and played in a similar way. He did not appear to employ any unfair tactics or stratagems. This contest would, they decided, simply be a battle between two evenly matched and talented players, and whoever played best on the day would win.

As we made our way to our seats on the royal stage, the sadrazam appeared before us and discreetly took Mr Ascham and Latif aside for a quiet word.

Elsie and I took our seats, and within moments, Elsie was winking and waving coquettishly at the Crown Prince a dozen seats away. He smiled back, grinning knowingly.

Mr Ascham and Latif rejoined us. My teacher sat down beside me. Curiously, as he did so, a pair of the Sultan’s personal guards took up positions behind our chairs.

‘Why are these guards here?’ I asked.

‘A precaution,’ my teacher said. ‘The sadrazam says there have been death threats made to Mr Giles and to us should he beat the local man in this morning’s match. Giles does not know.’

‘Oh, my.’ I glanced at the two stony-faced guards.

‘And given our little incident in the menagerie last night,’ Mr Ascham whispered, ‘a little protection seems like a nice idea to me.’

I agreed. I also wanted to speak with Mr Ascham about my encounter in the cisterns the previous evening, before the excitement in the menagerie. It had not occurred to me to raise the matter while I had been shivering in his embrace in the wolf cage; my mind, I hope it will be understood, was on other things at that time.

And so, as Mr Giles and Ibrahim took their seats on the playing stage and began their match, I leaned close and told Mr Ascham in a hushed voice about my adventures in the palace’s underworld, how I had found Pietro and what I had learned from him.

My teacher listened in studious silence, offering me the occasional astonished look.

By the time I finished, the first game of the match was well underway but neither I nor Mr Ascham had noticed. (At this stage, Elsie got up to take her toilet. I imagined she did so because it afforded her an opportunity to sidle past the Crown Prince.)