“Look, sir!” Gustav said, pointing. “I do believe you have a welcome party.”
Francis looked, and sure enough saw a riot of colour on the quay; a royal party awaiting his arrival, dressed in their finest clothes, shaded under large parasols, splendid rugs spread out for them to stand on. Queen Fatima and her ladies spotted him and began waving. Servants with instruments struck up a lively tune, several more lined up next to royal guards bearing trays of refreshments. All of it was a blur to Francis as his eyes sought the only face that mattered.
He spotted his king in the thick of it, surrounded by his family. A big smile played on his handsome face as soon as he saw Francis, and Francis breathed a sigh of relief.
He was here.
Chapter 18
After being formally received by the royal family in a happy blur of greetings, warm embraces, and many kisses bestowed upon his cheeks, Francis was glad to be swept away by Hasim in a small, private boat.
They crossed the water in a ferry, just the two of them plus two royal guards, and the boat crew. The ferry had space enough that they were afforded some privacy, sitting together upon plump cushions nestled in the bow as the slim boat cut through the water.
Francis thought it resembled a gondola from Venice, though without anyone punting them along. Instead, this ferry appeared to move by a rumbling noise below, churning out frothy bubbles behind them as they sped across the strait.
Hasim was explaining the sights and buildings on each side of the water, but noticed Francis distracted by the boat. “Let me guess,” he said with a smile. “You wish to know how it works?”
Francis smiled back. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”
“No, it can wait,” Hasim insisted. “I was only saying we are approaching the Asian side of the city. And we can do so within minutes, even against the current. Look.” He pointed in front of them, and for a moment Francis thought he was indicating the looming mountains, green forests and grand buildings on the other side of the strait, before he realised Hasim pointed to their boat itself. “This canopy? Solar power.”
What Francis had assumed was merely the small ferry’s canopy for the crew to shelter in, was actually made of sturdier material than cloth. The covering was shiny like silver, catching the light and glimmering in the same way the panels at the solar factory did.
“Fascinating,” Francis said. “And how are they makingthe boat move?”
“There is a small generator below deck,” Hasim explained. “It powers a turbine, similar to what you saw yourself, and the energy is converted to a propeller under the boat. Like a wheel with blades. That is what pushes us forward.”
“Extraordinary,” Francis marvelled. “Does it work on bigger boats?”
Hasim grinned. “This is what my engineers are working on. But see! Now we are here.”
Their boat steered in alongside a flat, open quay, the water lapping gently at its lowest steps. Several cats sat and lounged on the flat surface, soaking up the sunshine. Francis didn’t have to inquire how the cats had gotten there, as there was a grand, golden gate behind them, with one side open. Francis caught a glimpse of green gardens, and a cream coloured, French style pavilion.
“Oh, this is the splendid palace we spotted on our first journey in,” Francis said.
Their ferry docked, and the boat crew hopped out to secure it to the quay. Cats came to meet them, receiving pets from the crew.
“It was an Ottoman hunting lodge,” Hasim said, offering Francis his hand as they stepped off the boat. “I outlawed hunting for sport. This building was used as more of a summer palace, so I converted it for the cats on the Asian side. Now it is their palace.”
“I can’t wait to meet them all,” Francis said, grinning. “Are there a thousand here as well?”
Hasim smiled back. “You can try to count them if you like. It may take you some time.”
The royal guards followed them through the gate but kept a discreet distance. Inside the walls, the garden felt protected, sheltered from the wind. Francis spotted several cats playingpeek-a-boo in the flower beds, and even more lounging in the grass or upon wooden benches.
Outside on the pavilion’s steps, more cats were busy playing with three young women dressed in pretty pink silks. The cat helpers, Francis assumed, same as Hasim’s palace on the other side. Everyone looked content, and what a beautiful home for the cats here. The building had two floors, large windows, and balconies; a perfect palace for cats.
Francis thought they were going to this building, but when he went to walk that way, Hasim tugged gently on his hand.
“Are we not…?” Francis looked back at the king.
“I will give you a tour another time,” Hasim said with a sly grin. “First, let me show you your pavilion.”
“My what?”
“Your pavilion.”
Francis was at a loss for words. Hasim held his hand and led him down a winding path through the garden, past a gorgeous apple tree in late blossom, and birds singing in its branches. A few of the cats materialised from the bushes and escorted them, trotting alongside them on the path, or galloping ahead with their tails raised high.
