SERAGLIO Read Online Free PDF

a moment, they will rip out your guts without a second thought.

Chapter 7
     
    Galata
     
    Galata was built on one of Stamboul's seven hills, just across the Horn from Seraglio Point. It was dominated by the Galata Kulesi, a round tower built by the Genoese as part of the city's fortifications. Tiny houses and shops clustered at its foot, next to the harbor, and this was where the Jewish and Genoese commission agents kept their homes. Berbers and Red Sea Arabs had warehouses here also, and filled them with spices, ivory, silks, glass and pearls. There were even small shops where wine and arak were served.
    The smell of fish and salt from the Bosphorus overlaid the dank urban stink.
    Ludovici also kept a house in the quarter, although no one ever lived in it. Its purpose was a safe house where he might receive his spies and pay baksheesh to palace officials. Endless comings and goings at his palazzo in Pera by government pashas might excite too much comment.
    The house was painted yellow, the colour of the Jews. It was sparsely finished. Most of the rooms were empty; the only room that was furnished was an upstairs audience chamber; there was a low cedar table and some cushions scattered about a rich Persian silk carpet. They belied the humble surroundings.
    It had taken four servants to ease Abbas' enormous bulk to the floor. He now concentrated his attention on the pastries piled on the silver plate in front of him. When they were gone he dipped his fingers daintily into a silver bowl proffered by another of Ludovici's servants. He belched politely into a silk handkerchief.
    He came once a month now, disguised in his black ferijde . Ludovici had tried at first to speak to him as he did in the old days, but the Abbas he had once known was gone. Aside from discussing politics he seemed to gain no pleasure from his visits, though he provided invaluable insights into the workings of the Topkapi. He never took baksheesh for his information. Ludovici wondered why he still came.
    There could only be one reason.
    'How is Julia?' he said, breaking the silence. It was always his first question.
    'She is well.'
    'Business is good?'
    'Thanks to your help.'
    Abbas nodded. That side of things did not interest him overmuch. 'You know she cannot stay in Stamboul much longer. It is no longer safe here. Not even in the Comunità Magnifica .'
    'What has happened?'
    'I cannot tell you that.'
    "But Abbas …'
    "Please. Get her out of Stamboul. As soon as you can.'
    'Where could she go?'
    'It doesn't matter as long as it is not Stamboul. I have done all I can to protect her, but the situation is impossible now. Do you understand?'
    'I will do what I can.'
    Abbas gripped his arm with one massive fist. 'No, that is not good enough. You have to get her out! Now!'
    'All right,' Ludovici said. What on earth could this be? 'Has someone found out about her?'
    'Just promise me that you will get her out of Stamboul.'
    Ludovici frowned. 'I promise,' he said. 'But ,,,'
    'Let us go to other business,' Abbas said and would talk no more about it.
     
     
    The Hippodrome
     
    Suleiman sat on a pure white Cappadocian horse, watching his march through the Atmeydani. Ferries were waiting to take them across to Üsküdar and Asia. Behind him, veiled and hidden behind a lattice grill, he could feel Hürrem watching him. The knowledge of her presence helped still his nagging doubts.
    The Hippodrome shook to the rumble of supply wagons and siege engines. Choking clouds of dust swept across the square whipped up by the horse's hoofs and the iron spiked shoes of his infantry.
    Ibrahim appeared through the haze, resplendent in a white cloak. 'Your blessing on our endeavour, my Lord. Would that you were with us!'
    'You must defend Baghdad against the devil.'
    'I will crush the Shah as you have commanded me!' He reined in his horse to review the army at Suleiman's side.
    First came the azabs ; irregular infantry, criminals and jailbirds and cutthroats come to fight for