They set sail immediately, passing through the Dardanelles and into the Aegean Sea, keeping within sight of the coast at all times. They sailed past the islands of Lesbos, Khios, Samos, and Kos. Amir was surprised that his ship traveled without an escort, but Captain Mahmud said that it was thought an armed escort would have drawn unwanted attention to the ship. It was believed that a ship belonging to Prince Amir’s merchant fleet coming out of Istanbul would not attract much attention. After all, it was the ships returning from the east that carried the richest goods, not those headed east. Of course, a sharper eye might have noticed the ship riding low with its heavy cargo, but they were not troubled with pirates, for which Amir was grateful.
Shaped like the head of some ancient Spartan spear, the island came into their view at last. It was mountainous terrain, the heights covered in pine and cypress forests.
The lowlands had enough flat land, where vineyards, orchards, and groves of olives were grown. The island’s coast was rocky and difficult, but the harbor at Rhodes, its main city, was deep and navigable.
Over the centuries the island had been occupied and claimed by many cultures. Byzantium claimed it after the First Crusade, but its tenure came to an end almost two hundred years ago, when the Knights Hospitaliers claimed it for themselves, building a more modern city in the European style and surrounding it with strong walls. No one had been able to breach those walls, not even Prince Amir’s grandfather Mehmet the Conqueror. This was the sanctuary the sultan’s brother, Prince Jem, had chosen. Their ship anchored in the harbor.
“I will go ashore, and formally announce your arrival to the Grand Master of the order,” Captain Mahmud said. “Do you speak French, Highness?”
Amir nodded. “I can communicate with the Grand Master in several languages,” he replied. “Say I would like to come ashore today after our time at sea. He will assume I have a delicate constitution.”
Captain Mahmud chuckled. “They are ferocious fighters and fierce sailors, this particular band of knights,” he remarked. “Yes, better to let them think you weak, Highness. ’Tis a clever ploy.”
“See if they will allow you to speak with my father, and tell him I am here. He will understand why, and be annoyed,” Amir told the Janissary.
“When did you last see your father, Highness, if I may be so bold?” the captain asked.
Amir snorted. “I have not seen him since I was ten,” he replied almost bitterly.
“I last saw my father when I was six and the sultan’s forces came from the sea to attack my village. They killed him and those who opposed them, carrying off the women and children. I was chosen to be sent to the Prince’s School to be educated and eventually become part of the Janissary corps,” Captain Mahmud responded. “A father sires you, but life shapes your character, and kismet brings you your good fortune.”
“I cannot disagree,” Amir said. The Janissary captain’s story was not an unusual one. Many of the children taken, educated, and trained became valued civil servants for the sultan’s government. Though many were nothing more than simple soldiers, others used their education to advance themselves, gaining both wealth and rank.
Captain Mahmud went ashore, returning a few hours later. The Grand Master, he said, looked forward to welcoming Prince Amir, who was invited to stay at the great stone castle that was the headquarters of the order. “I saw your father, Highness,” the captain reported. “He was surprised that you were here but will be happy to receive you.”
Amir chuckled. “Yes, I will wager he is indeed surprised that I am here. Well, let us go. Krikor! Is my finery suitable enough to impress?” the prince asked his servant.
“You will bring honor to your uncle, my lord,” Krikor answered his master. He had dressed his master this morning in white and gold.
They were rowed ashore, where a small honor guard of horsemen met them, escorting them to the castle. There Prince Amir met the man who was temporarily serving as Grand Master of the Hospitaliers, Henri-François Plessis D’Aubusson. The two men greeted each other cordially.
“We are most honored to receive the sultan’s nephew into our midst,” the Grand Master said, bowing. He was a man of medium height with dun-colored hair and eyes. He wore a bright crimson tabard emblazoned with a white cross as an outer garment.
“My master, Sultan Bayezit, is grateful for the generosity you have shown towards his brother, Prince Jem. My uncle wishes there to be only peace between them. The stipend is being off-loaded from my ship now. When you are ready Captain Mahmud will count the coins before you so you may see there is a full measure as promised.”
The Grand Master was impressed. This young prince had great elegance and his manners were without fault. He was curious, however, and could not refrain from gaining an answer to something that he found odd. “Why are your eyes blue?” he said, and was then slightly amused to see Prince Amir’s dignity shaken before he recovered himself.
“My mother had blue eyes,” he answered the Grand Master. “She was English.”
“Ah, of course,” the Grand Master replied. “You will take a meal with me, I hope, Highness. But now you will want to see your father. I will take you to him myself. When you return home to Istanbul you will be able to tell Sultan Bayezit that his brother is being housed as befits his position.”
Amir could not help but laugh aloud. Then he said to his startled companion, “My uncle has a forgiving nature where his brother is concerned, my lord. But eventually I suspect my father’s behavior will try the sultan’s patience beyond its limits. This sultan values loyalty above all else. Continued defiance on my father’s part is foolish. We both know he cannot hope to prevail. Nor would Christendom protect Prince Jem did they not think to gain an advantage over the sultan by doing so. There is no advantage to be had, for while he loves his brother, Sultan Bayezit loves his realm more, which he should. The sultan is the father over all his people, my lord. A good father will not betray his children, although the child may betray the father.”
The Grand Master nodded. Prince Amir had spoken candidly. “I will remember your words, Highness,” he told the younger man. Then he brought him without further discussion to the vast apartments where Prince Jem had installed his miniature Oriental court. “I do not intrude upon your father unless invited,” he said quietly.
Amir nodded and as the Grand Master turned to depart, the prince said to the two enormous black slaves guarding the doors, “I am your master’s son. Open the doors for me.” Then he passed through them when they did.
A black eunuch hurried forward as he entered the antechamber. “Prince Amir,” he said. “Your father is awaiting you. Come this way.”
Amir followed the eunuch and was led into a beautiful presence chamber, where his father sat ensconced upon a velvet-cushioned gilt throne. Beneath Amir’s feet was a magnificent wool carpet of reds and blues. Footed bronze lamps burning scented oils lit the chamber. Seated upon multicolored silk cushions around the throne were half a dozen richly dressed and lightly veiled women.
Amir smiled, amused. “’Tis most impressive, Father,” he said, greeting the man who had sired him—a man he barely knew but by reputation and had not seen in years.
“You look like your mother,” Prince Jem acknowledged. “You may come closer.”
Amir moved forward. He looked at this man and decided he would not like him. He wished he could be anywhere other than the castle of the Grand Master of Rhodes. He wanted to be home at the Moonlight Serai. Home with Azura. How long before he would see her again? He would not be able to reason with his father. His father wanted to be sultan yet had not the strength nor the resources to gain that office. He had believed that because Mehmet favored him he would easily gain the throne.I am wasting my time here,Amir thought, and was irritated, but he would spend the next month trying to bring Prince Jem back into the sultan’s good graces. Time lost that could be spent with Azura.Beloved!he called out to her with his longing heart.
And Azura as she walked in the early autumn garden placed her hand on her belly. The winds had already begun to blow from the northwest as the days grew shorter. She was with child at long last. She wanted to tell Amir, wanted to share her happiness with him. Maysun had advised against it, however, and Shahdi had agreed. Both of Amir’s first two wives were overjoyed that Azura was to bear a child. This babe would be raised by them too, and their empty hearts would soon be filled.
