The rock sailed downward, landing with a metallic thunk on the helmeted head of a soldier in the middle of the Bulgar ranks. He slumped in his saddle, then slid to the ground.
On either side of the canyon, Lada’s men set to work. There was no shortage of rocks. The Bulgars were packed in so tightly that there was no need to aim. Throw a rock, hit something. It was as simple as that.
The Bulgars started to panic, trying to shift out of the way, but there was nowhere to go. Their horses screamed. Soldiers dismounted and tried to climb up the sides of the canyon. They were met with rocks. A few kept their wits and pulled out crossbows, but the distance was too great and Lada’s men had too much cover.
The Bulgars in front made a desperate push, but Hunyadi had grasped that his role was to block them. He set up a firm line impervious to the chaotic attacks of the Bulgars, and then waited.
By evening, Lada’s arms screamed with weariness as she tossed a last rock down. Then, exhausted, she sat. Nicolae and her men on the other side of the canyon followed suit. There were so few Bulgars left, it would be easy for Hunyadi’s men to pick them off with crossbow bolts. It looked as though a careless god had passed through, tossing bodies aside like refuse. Men and horses clogged the path, broken and tangled together.
When Lada and her men stumbled down from the hills, they were greeted with roaring fires and waiting food. Hunyadi’s men cheered, welcoming them with open arms. Hunyadi pushed through to Lada. He picked her up and spun her in a circle. “That was brilliant!” he shouted, laughing.
She waited until he put her down. Then she met his gaze with an unsmiling and unflinching one of her own. “Yes,” she said. “It was. You are no king, and I am no wife. I am a leader and a ruler, and I want your support.”
Hunyadi nodded solemnly, his fingers once again disappearing into his beard. “You have much value outside of marriage.” He did not say it jokingly or dismissively. Lada could see in his eyes that he considered her differently now.
She stood a little straighter. She had done something good. She had secured an ally through her own merits. And she would use him however she could to destroy her enemies.
9
March
IT WAS A festive day in the port city of Bursa.
Ribbons adorned everything, whipping gaily in the perpetual wind that blew from the Sea of Marmara and through the streets. Children laughed, darting through the press of people. Vendors called out their goods—mostly food, and most of that fish—over the noise of the crowds.
Radu let the crowd pull them along. Nazira pointed out a young girl carrying a screaming toddler nearly as big as herself. The toddler managed to wriggle out of her arms. The little girl grabbed his wrist and dragged him on determinedly.
“Does that make you miss your sister?” Nazira asked.
Radu shook his head. “Lada would never have been so tender.”
“I wish I had gotten to know her better.”
“No, you do not.”
Nazira stopped, looking into Radu’s eyes. “Yes, I do. Because she is important to you, and you are important to me, so she is important to me.”
Radu shifted away from acknowledging Lada’s importance to him. He tried not to think about it, or whether he was actually important to her. He had made his choice. Again. “You would not like her. And she would not like you.”
Nazira sniffed, lifting her nose haughtily. “Everyone likes me. Just because you could not make your terror of a sister be civil does not mean I would have fared so poorly. I am the sweetest person alive. Or have you not heard?”
Radu laughed, taking her hand and rushing through a brief opening in the square. “I have heard, and received ample evidence to support the rumor.”
After a few stops for Nazira to purchase ribbons for waving, they reached the docks. It took some time to find a spot to stand, but people tended to make way once they noticed Radu and Nazira’s fine clothing. Radu still dressed the part of a frivolous member of the court, with bright robes and as much jewelry as he owned. Nazira wore her status with the easy grace of one born to it.
The day was brilliantly sunny, the warmth cut through by the wind. Light reflected off the churning water, and small waves slapped at the dock they stood on.
Out on the water were Radu’s ships. Well, the empire’s ships. But Radu felt a flush of pride looking at them. He had visited the construction docks under the pretense of going to his country estate with Nazira. Suleiman was ambitious but practical. Under his hand, everything went according to schedule. And now, before them, were the fruits of their labors.
It was a glorious sight to behold.
Nazira pointed out the different types. “Three of the big ones! What are they called?”
“Galleys. The largest ships the empire has ever owned, all brand-new.”
“And those five medium ones?”
“Also galleys. Three are older, two are new.”
Nazira sniffed in disappointment. “They should really be cleverer with naming than that. Big galleys and medium galleys. What about the smaller ones moving between them?”
Radu laughed. “You are going to be disappointed.”
“Galleys?”
“Yes.”
She scowled crossly. “I should have been consulted. Still, it is amazing! Look at them all! How can the water hold that much weight? Oh! They are moving.”
Sails unfurled. Though the ships were too far out for Radu to see their decks, he knew the sailors would be scrambling to tie things off and adjust the sails to cap ture the wind. There would be even more men on benches manning the long, heavy oars for navigating rivers.
The boats danced on the water, cutting through the waves or skimming on top of them, depending on their size. Every time a boat maneuvered particularly well, the crowd cheered. After a few minutes, all the galleys lined up near the shore and stopped there, close enough for the onlookers to see the flurry of on-deck activity. And then the cannons fired across the water, away from the bank.
Though the ships could not bear the load of too much heavy artillery, the sound was terrible and impressive. Babies and children cried in fear and surprise. Everyone else clapped and waved their ribbons in the air. Never before had the Ottomans had such a navy. Never before had any of them seen such a demonstration.
Radu smiled, because he knew the truth: this was only half of their fleet. The other half was hidden in a boatyard on a little-used section of one of the tributary rivers.
“There he is.” Nazira’s quiet voice broke through the noise. Radu turned to see Mehmed, standing on a balcony. He wore deepest purple, with a red turban and a blindingly white cape. Nazira and Radu were not the only ones to notice him. Much of the crowd turned to cheer and wave their ribbons at him. Radu was too far away to be sure, but he thought Mehmed smiled.
Radu pretended that the smile was for him, and joined the cheering.
“We should take more holidays together,” Nazira said, leaning back in their carriage. “Fatima does not like to go to new places. It was all I could do to persuade her to stay in Edirne for this long. She loves familiar things, routine.” Nazira smiled fondly. “She has settled in nicely there, though. As long as she does not have to go out among crowds.”
“I did not know she had such a hard time with them.” Radu watched the countryside pass by. He tried to hold on to the happy pride of seeing his work dance on the water. But the same scene kept playing out in his mind. Instead of being on the dock with Nazira, he had been on the balcony, at Mehmed’s side. As Mehmed watched the triumph of Radu’s planning, he shifted closer and closer. And then their hands, at their sides, brushed.
Instead of pulling away, Mehmed’s fingers linked with Radu’s, and they stood like that, watching the ships, together.