James Heneage - The Towers of Samarcand

She turned to him. ‘Have you seen her?’ she whispered.

‘Who?’

‘Zoe. With the ring.’

Plethon shook his head. ‘It’s too late for that, I’m afraid.’

Fiorenza stumbled next to her. Anna helped her back to her feet. The Princess hadn’t spoken since they’d set out. Anna turned back to Plethon but he’d disappeared.

At the foot of the bridge were four chests, their lids open, with gold coins heaped inside. Tamerlane had decided that the signori would end their lives as they’d led them: with their pockets stuffed with gold. He would take them to the top of the bridge, tie them back to back and then push them into the river. The gold would drag them to the bottom and he’d enjoy watching them struggle against each other before they died.

Especially Longo .

Vaguely, he wondered whether Zoe would allow him some sport with Longo’s widow after her husband had died. For Tamerlane, there was entertainment to be had in tears. He dismounted, walked over to the open chests and peered inside. He knelt and plunged his hands into one, lifting them so that the coins ran through his fingers, clinking as they fell. He looked back at Longo. ‘I’m going to give you all this,’ he said. ‘I’m going to share it out amongst you.’

Longo had guessed what was to happen to them. He’d seen the guards with the rope and the furious river below. He’d heard of the many, many ways that this man had devised to kill people and saw the twisted logic of this one. He vaguely wondered how they’d retrieve the gold from the riverbed. He’d not seen his wife and hoped she wouldn’t have to witness it.

But she would. When the men in front had stopped, Fiorenza, Anna and Plethon had walked forward, keeping well behind Zoe. They arrived to see Longo and Dimitri tied back to back being dragged up the bridge, Tamerlane following behind.

Fiorenza began to run forward, her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. ‘Not him!’ she cried. ‘She said he’d be spared!’

Anna caught her and gripped her arms, turning the woman to face her. ‘She lied, Fiorenza. She always lies. She doesn’t want any of the signori to join her on Chios. But she still has Giovanni. You must control yourself.’

Fiorenza was staring past Anna. ‘But …’

‘You must remain quiet,’ said Anna, shaking her. ‘If you try to interfere’ — she glanced behind her to where Zoe sat on her horse, apparently unaware of their presence — ‘your son … Longo’s son, will die.’

Longo’s son. Luke’s son .

Fiorenza nodded slowly. She rose to her feet and Anna held on to her, keeping her standing. In front were the signori, chained and guarded, and in front of them was Zoe, looking directly ahead. Beyond was the bridge. It was long and high and they couldn’t see over to its other side, but they heard the river below. Swollen by autumn rains, it was deep and fast and full of rocks.

Ahead, Tamerlane was walking up the bridge and looking at the sun, taking pleasure from its warmth upon his face. Perhaps he would stay in this country for a while, enjoy Constantinople with his new wife. Perhaps he’d have two capitals as the Romans once had. He closed his eyes and didn’t notice that he was reaching the top. He heard talk in front of him. He opened his eyes to see that the two gautchin and their charges had stopped and were looking over the crest. Tamerlane walked up to them.

In front of him, over the brow of the bridge, was a big horse with a tall, fair man on its back. The man had a bow in his hand and at his side was a sword with a dragon head for a hilt. Even without his glasses, Tamerlane knew who it was. He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Varangian! You are Horatius! Or is it Leonidas? But he had three hundred and you are only one. What is this?’

There was no answer.

‘Are you so keen to die?’

Luke lifted the bow. Its arrow was pointing at Tamerlane. Neither of the gautchin on the bridge had bows and they were too far away to reach him with their swords.

‘Ah, you will kill me!’ The old man clapped his hands. ‘But that’s suicide for everyone.’ He gestured behind him. ‘If I die, they all die. The Genoese, your emperor … all of them.’

Luke said: ‘Bring forward the wife of Lord Longo. Alone.’

Longo, on his knees with Dimitri bound behind him, shouted: ‘No!’

Tamerlane laughed. ‘You’d have her plead for her husband’s life? Why not?’ He turned and shouted behind him: ‘Have the wife of the Genoese leader come to me. Quickly!’

Anna was still holding Fiorenza by the arm but the next moment the Princess had broken free and was running past the signore, past Zoe, and on to the bridge. For a moment, Zoe looked as if she would follow her. But she reined in her horse and sat perfectly still.

Tamerlane watched Fiorenza come towards him, his hands on his hips. Ahead, Longo had managed to angle his body so that he could see her too. As she approached, Tamerlane turned back to Luke. ‘Can she begin?’

Luke stared at Fiorenza. He hadn’t seen her for a long time and, if anything, her beauty was greater than ever, perfectly poised between youth and age and seeming to reflect the season around them. Luke spoke to her. ‘Lady, I have your son.’

He turned his head and whistled and Giovanni emerged from behind a tree at the bottom of the bridge. The boy ran up to Eskalon and was lifted into the saddle. Luke held him to his front and said: ‘He was being held at Sklavia on the orders of Zoe.’

Tamerlane scratched his head. He was frowning. ‘Why?’

‘To persuade the Princess Fiorenza to lie to you, lord. Did she tell you that the signori sent the Varangian to kill you?’

Tamerlane nodded.

Fiorenza had arrived next to Tamerlane. She seemed composed. She said: ‘I lied to you, lord, because Zoe held my son. She said that you’d spare my husband.’

Tamerlane grunted. He said to Luke: ‘But what of the poison found on the Varangian?’

Luke had lifted the bow again. ‘Zoe’s poison was found on him, lord. Poison probably meant for you some day.’

Tamerlane snorted. ‘Why would she want the Genoese to die?’

‘Because the Genoese stand in her way.’ He paused. ‘As you will one day.’

Tamerlane looked behind him, down to the bottom of the bridge where Zoe still sat, out of earshot. He stood like that for some time. Then he turned back to Luke. ‘But you lied as well, Varangian,’ he said. ‘You told me you were married to the one who eased my pain.’

‘Her name is Shulen, lord.’ Luke’s hands were steady on the bow and Eskalon stood motionless beneath him. ‘And she saved your life.’

‘So why did you deny her to me?’

‘Because your heir was in love with her. Would you have bedded the one Mohammed Sultan wanted for his wife?’

Tamerlane was silent again, his big head thrust forward in thought, his world suddenly more complicated. He looked up. ‘Luke.’ It was the first time that Tamerlane had used his name. ‘You point an arrow at me to make me release the Genoese, which I will do.’ He shouted something to the gautchin, who began to untie Longo and Dimitri. ‘But you won’t kill me because if you do, there’ll be nothing left that you love. Including you.’

Luke said nothing and the arrow remained pointed at Tamerlane’s heart. The hand that held the bowstring had begun to tremble.

The last time that they turned back was on the death of the Khan .

Tamerlane continued: ‘You can have your signori but you won’t save Constantinople. I may not marry her there but then it hardly matters. It was just an excuse to enter. I want to destroy it.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s my way.’

Luke said nothing. He could release the arrow and Constantinople would be saved. But Anna was on the other side of the bridge. His arm began to ache.