An odd clicking noise drew his attention. He squinted through the darkness.
“Get down!” Lazar slammed into him, bearing him to the ground. Something passed over them, more the rumor of a sound than anything.
Radu crawled out from under Lazar, dazed and in shock. If it had not been for Lazar, he would be dead. His impulse, strongest and first, was to run. He was not made for this. If Lada were here, she would have…
No. He was in charge. He would lead his men.
“To me!” he shouted. “Crossbows! Shields up, form a line!”
He held his shield in front of him, tense and cringing as he waited for a bolt to claim him. Lazar stood next to him, his shield pressed to Radu’s. With a speed that made him proud, Radu’s men joined them. As one, they moved forward, steady and sure, toward where their unseen assailants still fired at them.
They met no one.
Skanderberg’s men had already disappeared into the darkness, whatever purpose they had been after thwarted. Radu’s forces warily broke their line, ears and eyes on high alert.
“A key,” Yazid muttered as he broke a crossbow bolt off from where it had lodged in his shield. “The answer was a key. Though I suppose a bolt would have been a good line, too.”
Lazar stayed next to Radu, but he drew no comfort. Everyone else seemed so calm, resigned to the familiar reality of battle. Radu was cold from the sweat that had instantly drenched him, his racing heart still frantic. He had always known they would be attacked, but it had been theoretical. He had not known it as he did now.
He walked, newly aware of every part of his body as though he were naked. He felt himself once again too small, too weak, like the boy terrified of Mircea’s unpredictable bursts of violence. Only now he had no castle to hide in, no curtains to stand behind.
And he was responsible for so many more lives than his own.
THREE MONTHS AFTER THE rest of the Janissaries left, Lada’s men finally had something to look forward to. They were expecting a shipment of gunpowder. Normally they would have had nothing to do with it. But with all the other Janissaries on the siege at Kruje, it was up to them to decide how to use it. The responsible decision would be to put it in storage and wait for the return of Ilyas. He would, no doubt, have specific people in mind to train on gunpowder uses and strategies.
But Ilyas was not here.
And with Radu far away excelling at politics and not a single letter from Mehmed, Lada wanted to burn things.
She was waiting at the gate to the keep when the wagon rolled to a stop in front of her. A woman climbed down, brows hunched low and matching her posture. “Where is the commander?”
“I am the commander.”
Though her back would never straighten again, the woman’s eyebrows did. “You.” Her gaze took in Lada’s uniform, but it lingered like a question on Lada’s chest.
Lada resisted the urge to fold her arms over her breasts. “Yes.”
“You are not what I expected.”
With a shrug, Lada said, “I could say the same.”
The woman smiled, revealing several missing teeth. “We are at war. Again. My husband and sons are always called up by our spahi leader to serve. We have unique skills.”
“We?”
“I know as much about gunpowder as any man.”
“And yet you are left behind.” Lada scowled, moving forward to look at the barrels in the wagon. “Does that make you angry?”
“Of course it makes me angry. It leaves me to do the work of my husband and our three sons all by myself.”
“No, I mean you have as much place fighting as they do. They should not leave you behind like you are worthless.”
“Bah. We shoulder a burden for the empire, just as the men do. Who else could keep everything running while soldiers tromp about having pissing contests?”
Lada laughed in spite of herself. “You would not say that in front of me if I were a man.”
“I transport gunpowder and teach fools how to avoid killing themselves with it. I say whatever I want in front of whomever I want.”
Nicolae tripped up to them, nearly dancing in his excitement. “What should we blow up first?” His eyes were bright enough to light gunpowder without a flame.
The woman sighed. “My name is Tohin. Might as well begin introductions, because it looks like I will be spending more time than normal keeping your fools from killing themselves.”
“Tohin, I am glad to have you.” Lada was surprised to feel how sincerely she meant it.
Tohin reminded Lada of her nurse, if Lada’s nurse had had fingertips burned to thick calluses and had been expert in the use of gunpowder for combat. There was a quality there, a directness bordering on blunt hostility, that brought to mind the way her nurse would mutter to herself when she thought no one could hear. There was also a gleam of approval in Tohin’s eyes as she watched Lada command her men that made Lada think of sitting by the fireplace, having her hair brushed.
If only this woman came with a Bogdan, too.