Shadow of God (23 page)

The French knight, Jean de Morelle, first encountered the young Greek woman, Melina, in the market outside the city walls. Melina was struggling with a heavy basket of fruit, and Jean had helped her load the basket onto a donkey.

It was the first time Melina had seen this particular knight. She paid little attention to the many men who sauntered through the streets of her town with their black capes and swords. Though the knights had been in Rhodes for two centuries, she still considered them intruders. Rhodes was
her
town
.
All the occupying forces over the centuries could not change that.

Without offering much in the way of conversation, Jean had secured the basket to the back of the donkey and prepared to lead the animal for her. While he was busy loading the animal, she examined the craggy good looks of the knight. His face seemed more weathered than his real age would suggest. She knew that all the
knights served terms in the galleys and the great ships of their Order. Perhaps so many years of service at sea in the galleys had done that to him. He had dark brown hair and blue eyes. When he looked at her it was hard for Melina to meet his stare. Something made her want to turn away. She fussed with the donkey’s halter so as not to stare into his eyes.
Why does this knight make me so uncomfortable?
she wondered.

The two walked back into the fortress together, Jean still leading the donkey.
She must be Greek
, he thought. Her black hair, dark eyes, and olive complexion were strong indications of her heritage. They spoke briefly in Greek, and she had no accent. But, then again, neither did he, and he was French.

Jean followed Melina through the narrow, winding streets. Finally, they turned into the Jewish Quarter and onto the street of the synagogue. The
Kahal Kadosh Gadol,
the Holy Great Congregation, destroyed in the siege of 1480, had been rebuilt with the help of the knights as a reward for the aid the Jewish residents of the island had provided during that siege. Mehmet’s forces bombarded the Jewish Quarter from the sea, pounding it with stone cannonballs without let-up for five weeks. The walls of the fortress itself had been reinforced with the rubble from the destroyed homes of the Jews.

The Turks had then entered the Jewish Quarter through a hole in the walls. But, just as it seemed inevitable that the Turks would overrun the city and slaughter the knights and the Jews together, something happened. For no apparent reason, the Turkish army turned and fled from the city. The Jews and the Christians could only believe that their victory was a divine intervention; that they had been saved from the Infidel by the hand of God. But, the friendship between the Christians and the Jews on Rhodes was not to last long.

After the turn of the sixteenth century, relations deteriorated. The Christian intolerance for the Jews that swept through the mainland of Europe finally washed ashore in Rhodes. Grand Master Pierre d’Aubusson ordered all the Jews expelled from the island. They were given fifty days to sell their possessions and leave. They were also forbidden to settle in Turkey, for fear that the Jews might be used as spies for the Muslims. They could only remain on the
island if they accepted baptism, and converted to Christianity. But, the hardest of d’Aubusson’s decrees was that which forced baptism upon all the children of the Jews regardless of the parents’ decision to stay or to leave. Those who left were sent by boat to Nice. Others would be tortured and killed.

The reaction of the Jews to this decree was immediate. The people flocked into the streets, tearing their clothes and wearing them inside out in protest. They covered their bodies with the ashes from their cooking fires, their screams of anguish filling the air. Their leaders pleaded with d’Aubusson, who responded by having all the remaining Jews who had not converted cast into a deep pit. There they stayed without food or water until only a handful remained alive. At the end, these faithful few died repeating their most important prayer,
Shemah Yisrael, Adonoi eloheynu, Adonoi echod.
Hear, Oh Israel, the Lord, our God, the Lord is One.

The irony was that in the years to come, the knights would continue their piracy on the Mediterranean, and take many shiploads of slaves. Among the slaves they captured were large numbers of Jews. And, by 1522, the Jewish population had reached an even greater number than had been killed or expelled by Grand Master d’Aubusson.

Jean and Melina walked past the synagogue and turned into the next street where her house was located. It was sandwiched between the two houses on either side, and made of rough stone, with small shuttered windows. Every house in the street was almost identical to each of its neighbors. The street was paved with small black and white pebbles. Jean noticed some flowers growing in a small patch of uncobbled street just outside her door. “Did you plant those?” he asked.

“No, they’re wildflowers,” she said in Greek.

Like you,
he thought. He wondered why a Greek was living in the Jewish Quarter, but said nothing. Then, he smiled at her and touched the brim of his hat. “
Au revoir, Mademoiselle.”
With that, he turned and walked back toward the
Collachio
.

Melina watched from the doorway as he walked down the street. She liked the way the black cape with the white cross outlined his
broad back and wide shoulders. He seemed to her a strong man, and he moved more gracefully than she had expected him to. As he turned the corner, Jean paused to look back. She could just make out a smile on his lips. He touched his fingers to the edge of his hat once more. Then he disappeared around the corner. Melina closed and bolted the door behind her, her face lit by a smile.

Two weeks later, Melina was walking from the market to her home. It was a Sunday, and she had just bought a few more vegetables. Jean was leaving the
Auberge de France
to take up his nursing duties at the Hospital of the Knights. He rounded the corner of the
Loggia
, and took a long detour to walk past Melina’s house. He slowed as he passed her door on the chance that he might see her again. He had been making this detour several times a day, in hopes that their paths would cross. At night, he could see the glow of light coming from the cracks in her shuttered windows, and his imagination pictured her sitting beside a small fire. He longed to knock on her door, but he never did.

Melina had just turned into her street when she saw the knight walking slowly past her house. He looked over his shoulder to her doorway, and then sped up again. She smiled, for it was clear that he was hoping to see her. Then, when he resumed his pace toward the hospital, he caught sight of her. They were both smiling as they approached. When they were a few yards apart, Jean stopped and took off his hat.

“
Bonjour, Mademoiselle,
” he said.

“
Bonjour, Monsieur le Chevalier.”

They stood in the narrow street for a moment, both at a loss for words. There was really no easy way for either to say what was on their minds. Finally, Melina said in French, “Thank you for helping me the other day. It was very kind.”

Jean cocked his head and nodded. “
De rien.”
It was nothing.

Melina could think of no words to say to this stranger, so she smiled and turned to go. Jean quickly said, “
Mademoiselle.”
Then he stopped, and just looked uncomfortable. She waited. Finally, he said, “I am on my way to the hospital. On Saturdays I work there until Sunday morning.”

“All night?”

“Yes. Sometimes there are a few hours to sleep. But, usually Doctor Renato has a great deal for us to do. Right now, there are a great many patients to care for. Sometimes there are not so many.”

“And what do
you
do there?”

He laughed. “Anything. Everything. Oh, not surgery. But, I help. Last time, it was very quiet, and I merely made bandages and fed the patients. Sometimes I help the
docteur
in his surgery. Sometimes I change the dressings. Anything that he is too busy to do.”

Melina took a deep breath. She hesitated, and finally, summoning all her courage, said, “Is there work that I could do there, too?”

Jean just looked at her. He stared into the blackness of her eyes. He was shocked at her boldness. Finally, he came back to the moment and said, “
Bien sûr!”
Of course! “There are many things you could do. Especially for the women there. They need a great deal of help that we knights cannot give them. Mmmm. Yes, please. I would be most grateful for your help. And, I am sure, so would Doctor Renato.”

Without another word, Melina and Jean turned and began the first of many walks together to the hospital.

The Chancellor, Andrea d’Amaral, walked into the chamber of the Grand Master without being announced. Philippe ignored the intentional insult and looked directly into the Portuguese knight’s eyes. He waited long enough for d’Amaral to make the pretense of a bow, and then said merely, “Yes, Chancellor?”

“This message has just been delivered to us, Grand Master. I am told it is from the Sultan Suleiman, himself.”

Philippe raised his eyebrows. “Delivered how?”

“It was brought to the embassy in Istanbul, and thence by sea with our courier. It has just this hour been given to me.” D’Amaral took the two steps necessary to reach out and hand the rolled message to the Grand Master. Then he bowed very slightly again, and stepped back.

Philippe finished what he was doing and looked up. “Have you read this, Andrea?” Philippe used the man’s Christian name as a small offering of friendship. There had been so many years of
enmity between the two that he felt the time should come when they were more than just civil. They were the two ranking leaders of the Knights of the Order of St. John, and this feud was destructive. Their knights might be forced to choose sides one day, and that could only hurt the Order. He knew that d’Amaral had not read the scroll, for the seal was still intact.

“I have not, Grand Master.” D’Amaral would not return the first-name familiarity offered him. This was not lost on Philippe.

“Very well. Stay a moment and I’ll read it to you. Please sit.” He broke the seal and unrolled the scroll. At the top of the page was an elaborate golden monogram, the
tu
ra
of the Sultan Suleiman. Beneath the
tu
ra
was the letter, written in Turkish and French
.
After a moment, Philippe began to read aloud.

Suleiman, the Sultan, Shadow of God on Earth, and by the grace of God, Sovereign of Sovereigns, King of Kings, most high Emperor of Byzantium and Trebizond, and very powerful King of Persia, of Arabia, of Syria, and of Egypt, and Lord of Jerusalem,

To Philippe Villiers de L’Isle Adam.

I congratulate you upon your new high position and rank. I hope that you will rule in peace and prosper. I announce to thee that following in my father’s footsteps, I have captured the most powerful of fortresses of Belgrade, and have taken many other well-fortified cities. I have destroyed them by sword and fire, reducing them to ashes and slavery. I shall myself return in triumph to my court at Istanbul.

10 September 1521