A Deceit to Die For

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Authors: Luke Montgomery

Tags: #Thrillers, #Fiction

BOOK: A Deceit to Die For
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Luke Montgomery

 

 

 ___________________

A DECEIT TO DIE FOR

A Novel

 

 

 

Ethandune Publishing

www.ethandunepublishing.com

Copyright © Luke Montgomery 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

 

CONTENTS

 

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

 

 

 

 

T
o the Turkish people in grateful appreciation for the warm hospitality and love shown to a wandering stranger in their land.

 

 

 

A
cknowledgements

 

Although it is my sincere desire to honor all of those who have helped shape this, my first novel, I must ask that you be generous in your forgiveness of omissions. Though this may be a work of fiction, the mind that created it was forged in the furnace of real life. Many have contributed either muscle or fire in the shaping of the mental metal.

First of all, I am indebted to many dozens, if not hundreds, of Turks, both friends and strangers, for sharing with me the complex nature of the Turkish psyche. There are too many to name here, but I will always carry them in my heart. My understanding of Islam in general and Turkey in particular was shaped significantly by my friends Fahrid, Cem, Zeki, Yusuf, Gökmen, Dave, Ali, and Ibrahim.

I also want to thank Gary, Don, Dale, John, and Grace for their many years of support and encouragement. Without them, this book would not have been possible.

Vivian did an outstanding job on the interior formatting and went above and beyond my expectations on a very tight deadline.

As every writer knows, feedback is essential for authors to overcome their many blind spots. All of the following “readers” were part of the cure for my literary myopia and tunnel vision: Barbara, Elizabeth, Dan, Michael, Mark, and Linda.

I also want to thank my wife for her unfailing support and encouragement, as well as my children—the two oldest for “hatching the idea” with me—and all of them for indulging my desire to write.

 

 

Fact

 

All references to historical events in this novel are accurate. The 16th century conspiracy which inspired the novel is true in its entirety. It has been preserved for posterity in a single complete manuscript currently safeguarded in Vienna at Österreichische Nationalbibliothek (The Austrian National Library).

 

 

____________________________________________

 

“Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully

as when they do it from religious conviction.”

Blaise Pascal

 

 

 

The

Beginning

 

 

O
UTSIDE
OF
M
URCIA
, S
PAIN
,
1612
 
Ibrahim twisted violently, straining every last sinew in a desperate, but futile effort to free his arms and legs from the battle-hardened hands of the two burly Spanish soldiers who had pinned him down on the floor of the blacksmith’s shop. A third soldier grabbed the hilt of a sword from the glowing coals and straddled Ibrahim’s body stretched out on the floor. The stench of wine, rancid sweat and pig fat was so nauseating Ibrahim began to retch uncontrollably, but nothing came up. The Spanish soldier cackled like a jackal and with all the hatred and malice of a servant of Satan, he said, “This is the last time you will ever speak Arabic, you filthy traitor. If the Inquisition had been run by soldiers instead of priests, this Morisco problem would have been solved long ago. I’m going to cut out your heretical tongue and brand your lips. For you, speech will be no more intelligible than the snorting of an old sow.”

In a split second, faster than the soldier could react, the words Ibrahim valued above any earthly thing, the sacred confession of the oneness of God came rushing from his mouth,
“La ilaha illa Allah . . .”
And, they were then cut short by searing, insufferable pain, and the smell of burning flesh . . .

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