The Sultan's Eyes Read Online Free PDF Page A

in the Council, outside in the piazza if I have to.’
    ‘I thought sneaking about in the darkness was your speciality?’
    ‘You will pay for that, and for all your pride and blasphemies, Mistress Hawkins. I will see to it.’
    ‘You will fail, as you always fail,’ I said, raising my voice to match his. ‘And one day you will find yourself in that special circle of Hell reserved for tyrants and traitors.’
    ‘How dare you?’ he screamed. ‘Get out!’
    We left the room in a dignified manner, but as soon as the door slammed behind us we raced down the back stairs, along the corridors and out into the light.
    We didn’t slow down until we reached our boat, where we stopped, panting and blinking in the sunshine.
    ‘That man! I swear it, I will —’
    ‘Not here, signora ,’ said Willem. ‘We’ll talk about it at home.’
    She fought down her words, although she muttered threats and curses under her breath all the way back to her palazzo .
    Luis was waiting for us on the boat stairs. He took one look at our faces and led us in silence up to the room where Al-Qasim still sat hunched by the window.
    ‘So?’ Luis asked, one eyebrow raised.
    ‘It went quite as well as I expected,’ said Willem. ‘I think he actually frothed at the mouth.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
    ‘Pacify him any more, Isabella, and he’ll explode.’
    ‘I couldn’t help it.’
    ‘You never can,’ said Willem.
    ‘Well, honestly, the man’s a monster.’
    ‘He is,’ said Signora Contarini. ‘I don’t blame you, Isabella. I see now that nothing anyone says will deter him from his pursuit of you. Of us.’
    ‘Then we must leave?’
    She collapsed onto the seat next to Al-Qasim. ‘I fear so. For a while, at least.’ She sighed. ‘But where can we go? Surely nowhere on earth is safe?’
    ‘Isabella was right the other day,’ said Al-Qasim. ‘She said we won’t be safe anywhere in Christendom. So we must go beyond it, into the Ottoman Empire.’
    ‘A heathen country?’ Willem paled.
    ‘That, my friend, is all a matter of perspective. I was thinking of a city in Greece — Salonica, home of Cassander and Cicero.’
    ‘Never heard of it,’ said Willem. ‘And I don’t like going to places I’ve never heard of. Bad things happen.’
    He sat down on the other side of Al-Qasim, who patted him on the shoulder.
    There was silence, broken only by the sound of oars in the water outside and pigeons on the roof. I looked around the room: at these people who had become so close to me, at the sun dappling the floor tiles, at the vase of blue irises stark against the yellow walls. I had to be strong, I decided. If I never allowed myself to feel the fear that threatened to overwhelm me, perhaps nobody would ever suspect it was there. No matter how clouded the horizon, I would act as if I felt hopeful. I would get this little band of refugees somewhere so safe that Fra Clement could call out the hounds of Hell and still he wouldn’t find us.
    My chest ached as I gathered into myself Willem’s anger, the signora ’s suspicions and Al-Qasim’s sorrow. I raised my head to find Luis staring at me. We held each other’s gaze for a moment and at last he nodded, as if he could read the tangle of thoughts in my mind. I smiled.
    ‘Of course you’ve heard of Salonica,’ I told Willem. ‘It’s one of the great cities of antiquity.’
    He slapped his forehead. ‘How could I forget that? Good thing I memorised the entire history of the known world, just in case anyone ever said to me, “My boy, we’d like you to go to Salonica.”’
    ‘Saint Paul wrote an entire Epistle —’
    ‘About what was wrong with the Thessalonians.’
    ‘See? You have heard of it,’ I said.
    ‘Please,’ said Signora Contarini. ‘That’s enough bickering. This is serious.’ She turned her attention to Al-Qasim. ‘What you suggest is rather dramatic.’
    ‘I know. But it may be the only option open to us now.’
    ‘We’d be living in a country