merchant to clean his house. Then the merchant’s wife thought I was pretty…too pretty…and I was sold to a former concubine of the old Sultan. She raised me, taught me…to dance, to sing, to please with poetry and the lute.” Her voice came more softly, a husk to it. “And a hundred other ways to delight a man.”
Despite his unease, Ion shifted, drew a little closer.
“Have you…have you known many men?” Vlad asked.
There was a trace of sadness in the question. It brought a second laugh. “None, lord—though you’d be surprised at the toys to be found on the Street of Potters!” The laughter faded. “And you do not give away what men will pay extra for. My owner will tell you that. So I am yet a virgin. Till tomorrow night at Mehmet’s sarayi. ”
Sadness had not replaced the laughter. Nothing had. And that made Vlad sad. “Do you want this?”
“Want?” came the echo. “ I do not…want. I exist for other people’s wants. That is my kismet . I must accept it.”
“ Kismet? ” said Vlad. He looked around at the shifting, excited crowd, bent still nearer, until his lips were almost touching the lattice. “What if you had a different one? What if you were given a choice?”
An irritated sniff. “I’ve never had a choice. How could one come now?”
“Because I could offer you one.”
Beside him, Ion threw himself back. For a few moments, he’d been lost in the girl’s voice, in his imagining of the lips she was named for. But then he realized that Vlad was movingbeyond even the danger of conversation. Farbeyond! He grabbed an arm again. “No!” This time Vlad did not shrug him off. He just turned and looked at him. Wordless, Ion dropped his hand away.
Her voice came faintly, as Vlad looked back. “What is this choice you offer me?”
He smiled. “It is that one between everyone’s decision for you and your own.”
Silence again in the palanquin , while around them, the crowd’s murmur began to build. “Mehmet! Mehmet!” came the cry, closer and closer. Men were backing up the stairs. The prince and his retinue had to be climbing towards them. Radu, returning, confirmed it with a raised thumb.
“I have a friend here,” Vlad continued, low-voiced, “a merchant from our land. His barge stands at the docks. He hates the Turks and loves silver. Silver my father will give him if he gets you home.”
“Home?” she asked, as if the word were unknown to her. Then she continued in a stronger voice, touched with anger, “But if we speak of choice, this is still yours, isn’t it? You will choose to do it or not?”
Both pairs of lips were pressed to the lattice now. Only thin wood separated them. “I have already chosen,” Vlad whispered. “It’s your turn.”
“What’s he doing now?” Radu asked, nervously.
Ion just shook his head.
The surging crowd burst onto the parapet. Many threw themselves onto the ground as Mehmet crested it. His face was distorted by pain. Abdullah supported him on his right side. With his left hand he used a bastinado on those who pressed closest. “Dogs!” he cried. “Jackals.”
The crowd passed along the walkway; blows, curses and prayers receded. The palanquin ’s bare chested pole-bearers were approaching. Vlad had stepped into the awning’s shadows as Mehmet passed. Now he came forward again. “Choose,” he said.
The servants bent to their poles. Their leader shoved his stick into Vlad’s chest. He just leaned into it as the palanquin was lifted, straining for words. Then, just as the men lifted, he heard them.
“Come for me.”
And she was gone. They watched the litter’s slow progress through the still-thick crowd. When Vlad took a step after it, Ion caught his sleeve. “You cannot…” he said.
Vlad looked at his friend, his green eyes expressionless. “Why?”
“To beat Mehmet at jereed is one thing. All saw it was fair. To kidnap his concubine…” The eyes did not change. “Vlad, this is the man who so loves his
Despite his unease, Ion shifted, drew a little closer.
“Have you…have you known many men?” Vlad asked.
There was a trace of sadness in the question. It brought a second laugh. “None, lord—though you’d be surprised at the toys to be found on the Street of Potters!” The laughter faded. “And you do not give away what men will pay extra for. My owner will tell you that. So I am yet a virgin. Till tomorrow night at Mehmet’s sarayi. ”
Sadness had not replaced the laughter. Nothing had. And that made Vlad sad. “Do you want this?”
“Want?” came the echo. “ I do not…want. I exist for other people’s wants. That is my kismet . I must accept it.”
“ Kismet? ” said Vlad. He looked around at the shifting, excited crowd, bent still nearer, until his lips were almost touching the lattice. “What if you had a different one? What if you were given a choice?”
An irritated sniff. “I’ve never had a choice. How could one come now?”
“Because I could offer you one.”
Beside him, Ion threw himself back. For a few moments, he’d been lost in the girl’s voice, in his imagining of the lips she was named for. But then he realized that Vlad was movingbeyond even the danger of conversation. Farbeyond! He grabbed an arm again. “No!” This time Vlad did not shrug him off. He just turned and looked at him. Wordless, Ion dropped his hand away.
Her voice came faintly, as Vlad looked back. “What is this choice you offer me?”
He smiled. “It is that one between everyone’s decision for you and your own.”
Silence again in the palanquin , while around them, the crowd’s murmur began to build. “Mehmet! Mehmet!” came the cry, closer and closer. Men were backing up the stairs. The prince and his retinue had to be climbing towards them. Radu, returning, confirmed it with a raised thumb.
“I have a friend here,” Vlad continued, low-voiced, “a merchant from our land. His barge stands at the docks. He hates the Turks and loves silver. Silver my father will give him if he gets you home.”
“Home?” she asked, as if the word were unknown to her. Then she continued in a stronger voice, touched with anger, “But if we speak of choice, this is still yours, isn’t it? You will choose to do it or not?”
Both pairs of lips were pressed to the lattice now. Only thin wood separated them. “I have already chosen,” Vlad whispered. “It’s your turn.”
“What’s he doing now?” Radu asked, nervously.
Ion just shook his head.
The surging crowd burst onto the parapet. Many threw themselves onto the ground as Mehmet crested it. His face was distorted by pain. Abdullah supported him on his right side. With his left hand he used a bastinado on those who pressed closest. “Dogs!” he cried. “Jackals.”
The crowd passed along the walkway; blows, curses and prayers receded. The palanquin ’s bare chested pole-bearers were approaching. Vlad had stepped into the awning’s shadows as Mehmet passed. Now he came forward again. “Choose,” he said.
The servants bent to their poles. Their leader shoved his stick into Vlad’s chest. He just leaned into it as the palanquin was lifted, straining for words. Then, just as the men lifted, he heard them.
“Come for me.”
And she was gone. They watched the litter’s slow progress through the still-thick crowd. When Vlad took a step after it, Ion caught his sleeve. “You cannot…” he said.
Vlad looked at his friend, his green eyes expressionless. “Why?”
“To beat Mehmet at jereed is one thing. All saw it was fair. To kidnap his concubine…” The eyes did not change. “Vlad, this is the man who so loves his
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