Reign of the Favored Women by Ann Chamberlin Read Free Book Online

Vizier, Kapudan Pasha, whatever fancy names you have, you are all my slaves, no better than that crawling worm there, and if it is my pleasure, I could do you all the same at this moment. No power on earth could stop me. Is it my pleasure? Perhaps. First, I must hear your pleasure in this matter we are discussing. Shall we make war on whom I decide, or shall we not?’
    “‘Be it according to your word,’ they all concurred as they watched—or tried not to watch—the boy’s last twitch.
    “Even the Mufti agreed. The Mufti, who is not the Sultan’s slave, who is a free-born Turk, educated in the mosque schools, and who should have no other law than that of the Koran and the traditions of the Prophet—he who should act as a check to any madness in the Sultan.
    “‘Although it is true the island has always been Christian,’ the Mufti said thoughtfully, ‘they did pay tribute to both the Mameluks of Egypt and Islam’s first caliphs. It seems therefore justified to take it for the Faith.’ “
    Andrea shook his head in disbelief, watching the terrifyingly expressionless face before him. Other griefs—even Sofia—were forgotten for the moment. “Such power in one man! If ever a Doge had a will like that, the Senate has such power that the best one can ever hope for is a very weak compromise. And with other states in Europe, it is much the same. No wonder Europe is so slow in getting anywhere!”
    “Except that,” Ghazanfer cautioned, “the place a single man wants to go may not be so healthy for the rest of the world.”
    “Well, barbarians on an island like Madagascar—no matter how they may fight—it would do them good, in the long run to be joined to the Turkish Empire.”
    “Madagascar? Is that what you thought when I said ‘island’?”
    “Of course. It seems only reasonable. It is the next step towards India, which I am sure the Sultan would...”Andrea fumbled. “You did say Yemen, didn’t you? And I reasoned...”
    “My friend. You misunderstood me. I never said the master was following reason in his design. This is the dream of a man in his cups.” A rigid sort of sorrow seemed to penetrate the eunuch’s eyes before he announced, “The Sultan has his eye on the island of Cyprus.”
    “Cyprus?”
    “Cyprus, as you know only too well, grows the best wine in the world, and the quota they have been willing to sell to Turkey in a year has never been enough to satisfy—”
    “But Cyprus belongs to Venice!”
    “Exactly, my friend.”
    The exaggerated patience in the eunuch’s voice reminded Andrea he had little enough right to be championing Venice’s cause. In one of the first waves of emotion he’d ever felt from the creature, he felt disdain. Disdain against himself. Disdain because he, Andrea, was moved—blinded—by carnal lust while a khadim, godlike, was above such constraints.
    Still, Andrea couldn’t help but exclaim: “But that is war—on us!”
    “Now you are not as casual as you were with the lives and goods of Madagascar. And Cyprus is not so far from Constantinople as that distant land. Why must you Christians always think all barbarians are only eastward?”
    “But we have a treaty of peace with the Porte. Hasn’t Selim been told?”
    “I have already told you, my friend, what the Mufti himself said about the bounds of honor surrounding that treaty. They are nothing compared to the honor of winning new lands for Islam—now. If you do not believe me, my friend, stop by the house of Joseph Nassey in the next few days. The master has promised to make him the island’s king. Nassey has already ordered the woodcarvers to carve a plate with Cyprus’s coat of arms and ‘King Joseph’ on it. It will swing above his gateway for all Constantinople to see. This is what my lady wanted me to tell you.”
    Andrea’s chest flooded with the warmth of gratitude towards Sofia. She had not forgotten him after all. But what she expected in return was still not clear, and he