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Authors: James Heneage
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made with his old enemy Yakub: the arrangement of a marriage between two junior kinsmen of them both, far out on the steppe. After decades of war, the Germiyans and Karamanids were going to try friendship instead. It was all part of the plan to bring Tamerlane.
Only Allaedin ali-Bey had more to lose than Yakub if he backed the wrong side: his kingdom. What harm would come from helping Suleyman?
‘We do have some contact with the Germiyans, it is true,’ he said slowly. He paused and looked up at the stone arching above him. His hand came up to caress the luxuriance of beard that fell in waves to the hill of his belly. ‘There is a marriage.’
Zoe nodded slowly. ‘I had heard as much, majesty.’ She paused and looked down at the tips of her fingers. ‘The girl, the bride—’
Allaedin interrupted, ‘—has been inspected by the man who will marry her, yes. So she may know where this tribe is now. They move, you see.’ He lifted his empty cup and his thumb traced the complicated design on its side. ‘The tribe has a stranger in its midst, I’m told.’
Zoe did not say anything. This was treacherous ground.
‘I’m also told’, continued the Emir quietly, ‘that the girl is very reluctant to go into this marriage.’
They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the storm distant beyond the walls. A window rattled far above them. Zoe took a silent breath. ‘Might I, perhaps, meet this reluctant bride, lord?’
CHAPTER SIX
ANATOLIA, SPRING 1398
At first Luke thought it was Gomil’s party returning. The long line of riders was strung out along the escarpment, silhouetted against the red ball of the setting sun.
But there was something wrong about them. They were moving too fast and sitting low in their saddles. And they were carrying their bows as if they meant to use them. These were not men returning to their homes, this was a raiding party.
Luke was alone on the hillside, a mile down the valley. He was wearing a sheepskin deel drawn together by a belt which held no weapon. He’d been allowed to keep his sword but not remove it from the ger. Around him grazed a herd of angora goats, their bodies thin and scarred from shearing, and they fed noisily on the rich new grass. It was warm and the evening air was hazed by the flight of night insects fanning out to carouse amongst the scents left over from the day.
Luke had been preparing to drive his herd home when he’d seen the riders. Once he knew that they weren’t from the camp, he collected his stick and the bundle of curds left over from lunch and ran fast down the hillside. If he could get to the stream at its bottom and use the cover of its bank, he mightjust reach the defile where the two valleys met before the riders got to it. Then he’d have to get a horse.
Bending double and sliding part of the way, he made it to the stream and jumped in. It was shallow and fast-moving and the pebbles beneath his feet gave no grip. The cold left him breathless and numbed to the knee. He half ran, half crawled as fast as he could and soon the junction of the two valleys came into view and the banks of the stream began to rise to form the defile.
But he’d been seen.
In his hurry, he’d slipped on a stone and landed headlong in the water. When he looked up, pushing hair from his eyes, he saw a rider a hundred paces to his front, watching him. At least he assumed that he was watching him. It was difficult to be sure for the man wore a long mask of painted wood that obscured all of his face and much of his chest. The masked man raised his bow, an arrow on its string, and pointed it directly at Luke.
Very slowly, Luke got up, his arms raised in the universal sign of submission. The rider didn’t move. Luke looked hard at him. The mask was very large and the eye-slits narrow. Firing accurately would be a challenge at that range. He could either flee or advance. He didn’t have much time and he wanted the horse. He began to advance.
The rider did
Only Allaedin ali-Bey had more to lose than Yakub if he backed the wrong side: his kingdom. What harm would come from helping Suleyman?
‘We do have some contact with the Germiyans, it is true,’ he said slowly. He paused and looked up at the stone arching above him. His hand came up to caress the luxuriance of beard that fell in waves to the hill of his belly. ‘There is a marriage.’
Zoe nodded slowly. ‘I had heard as much, majesty.’ She paused and looked down at the tips of her fingers. ‘The girl, the bride—’
Allaedin interrupted, ‘—has been inspected by the man who will marry her, yes. So she may know where this tribe is now. They move, you see.’ He lifted his empty cup and his thumb traced the complicated design on its side. ‘The tribe has a stranger in its midst, I’m told.’
Zoe did not say anything. This was treacherous ground.
‘I’m also told’, continued the Emir quietly, ‘that the girl is very reluctant to go into this marriage.’
They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the storm distant beyond the walls. A window rattled far above them. Zoe took a silent breath. ‘Might I, perhaps, meet this reluctant bride, lord?’
CHAPTER SIX
ANATOLIA, SPRING 1398
At first Luke thought it was Gomil’s party returning. The long line of riders was strung out along the escarpment, silhouetted against the red ball of the setting sun.
But there was something wrong about them. They were moving too fast and sitting low in their saddles. And they were carrying their bows as if they meant to use them. These were not men returning to their homes, this was a raiding party.
Luke was alone on the hillside, a mile down the valley. He was wearing a sheepskin deel drawn together by a belt which held no weapon. He’d been allowed to keep his sword but not remove it from the ger. Around him grazed a herd of angora goats, their bodies thin and scarred from shearing, and they fed noisily on the rich new grass. It was warm and the evening air was hazed by the flight of night insects fanning out to carouse amongst the scents left over from the day.
Luke had been preparing to drive his herd home when he’d seen the riders. Once he knew that they weren’t from the camp, he collected his stick and the bundle of curds left over from lunch and ran fast down the hillside. If he could get to the stream at its bottom and use the cover of its bank, he mightjust reach the defile where the two valleys met before the riders got to it. Then he’d have to get a horse.
Bending double and sliding part of the way, he made it to the stream and jumped in. It was shallow and fast-moving and the pebbles beneath his feet gave no grip. The cold left him breathless and numbed to the knee. He half ran, half crawled as fast as he could and soon the junction of the two valleys came into view and the banks of the stream began to rise to form the defile.
But he’d been seen.
In his hurry, he’d slipped on a stone and landed headlong in the water. When he looked up, pushing hair from his eyes, he saw a rider a hundred paces to his front, watching him. At least he assumed that he was watching him. It was difficult to be sure for the man wore a long mask of painted wood that obscured all of his face and much of his chest. The masked man raised his bow, an arrow on its string, and pointed it directly at Luke.
Very slowly, Luke got up, his arms raised in the universal sign of submission. The rider didn’t move. Luke looked hard at him. The mask was very large and the eye-slits narrow. Firing accurately would be a challenge at that range. He could either flee or advance. He didn’t have much time and he wanted the horse. He began to advance.
The rider did
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