Jack Hight: Siege

Longo bowed again in recognition of the compliment. 'Thank you, Your Highness. I spent my childhood in Thessalonica.'

'Ah, yes, before the wars no doubt,' Helena murmured, her eyes closed in memory. When she opened them again, they were cold and stern. 'But you did not come here to discuss your childhood.'

'No, Your Highness. I come bearing important news and to offer you my services, if you have need of them.'

'Very noble of you, Signor Longo,' Helena said. 'What then is your news?'

'Forgive my presumption,' Longo replied. 'But I wish to speak to Your Highness privately.'

Helena studied him closely, her eyes narrow. She nodded, satisfied with the results of her inspection. 'Leave us,' she ordered. The courtiers and soldiers filed quietly from the room. Only the captain of the private guard and the beautiful young woman stayed. Who was she?

'The Princess Sofia is very wise,' Helena said, answering his unspoken question. 'You may speak freely in her presence.' She gestured to the captain of the private guard. 'And I would trust John Dalmata with my life. Your secrets are safe here.'

'Of course, Your Highness,' Longo replied.

'Very good,' Helena said. 'You may proceed, Signor Longo.'

'I come bearing unwelcome news, Your Highness. The crusade led by King Ladislas and John Hunyadi of Hungary is no more. Their armies were surprised and routed by the Turks at Kossova. King Ladislas is dead, and Hunyadi has returned to Hungary to rule as regent. He will no doubt be forced to make peace with the sultan.'

Helena was silent. To her left, Sofia's eyes were wide with disbelief. It was Dalmata, the captain of the guard, who spoke first. 'Hunyadi defeated? We have heard nothing of this.'

'I witnessed the defeat with my own eyes,' Longo responded. 'My men rode hard to reach Constantinople. We arrived only today.'

'If Hunyadi has been defeated,' Sofia began, 'then there is no one left to stand between us and the Turkish army. They will not be quick to attack so soon after a major campaign, but if they sense any weakness — a struggle for succession, civil war — then they will strike.' Longo nodded. The girl's grasp of the situation was perfect.

'And Constantinople would fall,' Helena concluded. Good, Longo thought. They understand the danger. 'I will see to it that the succession is handled swiftly,' Helena continued. 'My oldest son, Constantine, shall be named emperor, and there will be no dissension, no civil war. I thank you for your news, Signor Longo. We are in your debt.'

'You do me too much honour, Your Highness,' Longo said. 'But I have one more piece of news to deliver. My men and I passed through Selymbria on our way to Constantinople. Your son, Demetrius, was there. He will arrive before Constantine even knows of the emperor's death.'

'Of course,' Helena replied coolly. 'We are expecting Demetrius any moment now. But do not fear. I will deal with my son when he arrives, and I will send a messenger to Constantine informing him that he is now the emperor.'

'Demetrius will no doubt arrive with force, Your Highness,' Longo said. 'My men are at your disposal, if you have need of us when he arrives.'

Helena shook her head. 'Thank you, Signor Longo, but I believe I know how to handle my son.'

'Then may I offer the services of my ship? She is fast, and Mistra is on the way to Italy. Allow me to carry your message to Constantine.'

'I accept your gracious offer,' Helena replied. 'John Dalmata will travel with you. Constantine trusts him. I will send two officials, Alexius Philanthropenus and George Sphrantzes, with the crown. Constantine shall be crowned emperor as soon as you arrive.'

Longo nodded his agreement. 'I will await Lord Dalmata and the officials at my ship. It is harboured in the Golden Horn, at the Port of Pera. We will set sail this very night.'

'Very well,' Helena said. 'May God go with you, Signor Longo.' The sun had set by the time Longo's ship, la Fortuna, got under way. Tristo and the other soldiers were already below decks, drinking and playing dice. The ship's crew scurried about the deck, preparing the rigging. The two ambassadors from Constantinople were in their cabin, suffering from seasickness. Longo had stayed on deck to talk with Dalmata. He was a man of few words, but forthright and intelligent. Like all of the Varangians, Dalmata's ancestors were Saxon nobles who had come to Constantinople generations ago, after King William conquered England, and Dalmata retained the brown hair, grey eyes and lighter skin of his kinsmen. He had been raised in the imperial household and trained in combat by his father, the emperor's personal bodyguard before him. Dalmata told Longo that Constantine was a strong man and would be a good emperor. They had grown up together in the palace, and Dalmata counted Constantine as a friend. Longo was glad to hear that Constantine was capable. He would need to be if his empire were to survive.

Dalmata excused himself to see after the two ambassadors, and Longo was left alone on deck. He stood near the rail, alone with his thoughts as a strong westerly wind hurried la Fortuna across the Sea of Marmora. Longo had been campaigning with Hunyadi for nearly a year, and it had been much longer since he had last set foot in Italy. He was eager to feel the warm sunshine of his homeland, eager to walk his fields once more and to watch his grapes as they ripened in the sun. But looking towards Constantinople, dark on the horizon with lights shining here and there, Longo felt something pull at him. A part of him always felt more at home in the East, far from the shores of Italy and the squabbles of his countrymen. Perhaps things would be different if he married, as his chamberlain Nicolo had been urging him to do for years. He thought of the Princess Sofia, with her bright, intelligent eyes, and then laughed at himself. He would never see her again, and he knew better than to wish for things he could never have. He had learned that lesson long ago.

Longo turned away and made his way to the ladder leading below decks, but before he could descend he was stopped by a noise so unexpected that it took him a moment to identify it. Floating in and out of the myriad noises of a ship at sea — the creaking of wooden planks, the slap of waves and the constant roar of wind in the sails — was the barely audible sound of someone crying. Longo looked around him, but saw only a few sailors coiling ropes. He listened more carefully. The sound was coming from above him.

Curious, Longo mounted the ratlines and climbed up to the crow's nest, high above the deck. He hauled himself over the side and found himself face to face with William, who looked away as he wiped the tears from his eyes. 'Why aren't you below with the others, William?' Longo asked.

William wiped away a last tear. 'I was just watching the city, the lights,' he said, struggling to master his quavering voice. 'It's like nothing I've ever seen.'

Longo looked out to where the city was still floating past, visible only as a million flickering flames from torches lining streets or fires burning in hearths. Its sea walls rose abruptly from the waves, giving it the look of an island, or some fantastic city afloat at sea, another Atlantis. 'Constantinople is magnificent, isn't she?' Longo reflected.

William nodded. 'Why do they call themselves Romans? They don't live in Rome.'

'They are the heirs to the Roman Empire, with an unbroken line of emperors all the way back to Augustus,' Longo explained. 'In some ways, they have a greater claim to the name Romans than the people of Rome themselves.'

'Is Rome like Constantinople?' William asked.

'Like Constantinople? No,' Longo laughed. 'But it is a magnificent place. It is filled with palaces, fountains, markets where you can buy whatever your heart desires, and beautiful women. I will take you there someday. You will like it.'