The Sultan's Eyes (26 page)

‘You may address me, Mademoiselle Hawkins,’ the Sultan said. ‘But you should not have come here today. It is dangerous. Tell me why you did.’

‘Your Magnificence,’ I began, ‘I haven’t been entirely honest with you.’

‘I know,’ he said.

‘Please, let me explain.’

‘Allow me,’ he said. ‘You have been translating the books in my library so your friends could print them, against the wishes of the Kislar Agha.’

I bowed my head. ‘Yes. That is what we planned to do.’

‘How wonderful!’

I looked up. The Sultan, his mother and Ay
e were all smiling.

‘You’re not angry?’

‘I wish you had told me,’ he said.

‘I was going to,’ I said. ‘I promise you that. We had no intention of printing any of your books without your permission. Would you have granted it?’

‘I sought advice from Nuri Effendi,’ said the Sultan. ‘We discussed it many times, did we not, old man?’

‘Yes, Your Magnificence.’

If Nuri was angry with me, as he had every right to be, he didn’t show it.

‘I want to see the printing press,’ said the Sultan. ‘I like machines.’

‘Today may not be the best day for that,’ I said quickly. ‘Perhaps later, when the city is calmer.’

‘But you will show me?’

‘Your Magnificence, if you wish it, I will give you the printing press.’

‘Is it yours?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I suppose it is. I can even teach you to use it.’

He laughed. ‘My grandmother will not like that very much.’

‘On this matter, the Valide Sultan and my brother cannot agree,’ said Ay
e. ‘She wishes to ban printing altogether.’

‘She has just banned me altogether,’ I said. ‘Or so says the Kislar Agha. He ordered me to leave Constantinople and never return.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Turhan Hadice. ‘You will stay. I order it.’

‘Is that what you wish?’ I asked the Sultan.

‘Very much,’ he said.

‘There you have it,’ said Turhan Hadice. ‘My son wishes it, therefore it must be. You will stay.’

I bowed my head. ‘If I can, I will.’

‘Promise me this,’ said Turhan Hadice.

I raised my face to meet her lapis lazuli gaze. If she had decided to defy the Valide Sultan, even at this dangerous time, then so perhaps could I.

I nodded. ‘I promise.’

She smiled.

‘And what of the printing?’ said the Sultan.

‘That is up to Your Magnificence,’ I said.

‘The Kislar Agha claims we must preserve our ancient arts,’ said Ay
e. ‘That much we understand.’

‘Nuri Effendi is of the same opinion,’ said the Sultan. ‘But we cannot feel it is wrong to bring all these lost books back into the light.’

‘After all, many of them belong to the world of Greece or Rome, or the Moors of Spain, long before my brother or our forefathers ruled,’ said Ay
e. ‘Surely the greater crime is that most of these
books have been destroyed, that ours are the only copies left in all the world?’

‘You are very wise, Your Magnificence,’ I said to the Sultan. ‘You must decide what is best for your empire, and to preserve the wisdom and artistry of your own people.’

‘Our calligraphers are the best in the world,’ said the Sultan.

‘They are artists,’ I said. ‘Their work is exquisite. But the printing press is something different. It creates beauty but also freedom.’

‘I don’t really like freedom much,’ said the Sultan. ‘It leads to uprisings and all sorts of trouble.’

‘Not always,’ I said. But I knew it was the case, more often than not.

‘There was one just this morning,’ the Sultan said. ‘Some intrigue with the janissaries. It is said they wish to depose me, and replace me with my cousin — perhaps even my mad uncle.’

‘Surely not, Your Magnificence,’ I said.

‘It’s quite true,’ said the Sultan. ‘One of my grandmother’s slaves overheard her talking to the Kislar Agha and reported it all to my mother, so we have had time to take appropriate measures.’

‘I see.’

‘She’s run off now, apparently.’

‘Who has?’

‘The slave,’ he said. ‘It was very brave. I would have rewarded her. She has, so I hear, the most extraordinary blue eyes.’

Admiral Jonson insisted on meeting us at the workshop so he could inspect the printing press and arrange for it to be dismantled and hidden. To be honest, I suspect he simply wanted to feel more a part of our conspiracy.

He greeted Valentina with a bow.

‘Great news,’ he said. ‘I have heard from Mister Wilkins. He is quite convinced the manuscript is in fact the work of Hypatia. He sends the congratulations and admiration of every astronomer in Europe.’

‘Wonderful,’ said Willem. ‘Except that it’s lost all over again.’

‘A momentary setback, that’s all,’ said the Admiral. ‘Hypatia has been recovered once, I’m sure she will be again. But on to our more immediate concerns.’

He flourished a handful of documents before Valentina.

‘What is this?’ she said.

‘My dear
signora
,’ said the Admiral, ‘I understand you will set sail within hours, perhaps to return to Venice with your friends.’ He nodded to Luis and Al-Qasim. ‘My advice to you is that such a course of action is still too dangerous. If the Inquisition has the wherewithal to send men to kidnap you here, you are not safe in Venice or anywhere in Italy.’

‘Pah!’ Valentina stamped her foot.

‘I’m afraid he’s right,’ said Constantine. ‘Your lives will be forfeit the moment you set foot ashore.’

‘Then where can we go?’ she said.

‘I hope you will consider seeking refuge in England,’ said the Admiral. ‘This is your authorisation, signed by the Ambassador this morning.’

Valentina’s eyes, her whole face, softened as if years of anxiety dropped away. ‘That’s very kind of you, sir.’

She took the papers in both hands and hugged them to her chest.

‘I merely speak on behalf of the government,’ said the Admiral. ‘I have written to Lord Fairfax of your great expertise and industry, and described you — all of you — as in need of refuge from the pernicious persecution of Papist and heathen forces.’

‘But Luis and I are Catholics, and Al-Qasim —’

‘Are Muslims even allowed in England?’ asked Luis. ‘It’s many years since you expelled the Jews.’

‘I’m not saying it would be easy,’ said Admiral Jonson. ‘I won’t pretend otherwise. Lord Fairfax approves of you, but you cannot expect to be welcomed with open arms and banquets as you were here.’

‘Not that it did us any good in the end,’ said Willem.

Admiral Jonson glared at him. ‘And whose fault is that?’

I stepped in before Willem could retort. ‘You are very generous, sir.’

The Admiral acknowledged me with a courteous nod, and turned back to Valentina. ‘You may have to stay out of mischief for a while. Do you think that’s possible?’

‘If necessary,’ Valentina said with a flick of her hair.

‘Hmm.’ The Admiral did not seem convinced. ‘We’ll see. But at least you will be safe from the Inquisition until the smoke of the bonfires clears in Venice.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Besides,’ the Admiral continued, ‘you will not be entirely among strangers. Mistress Hawkins will be there with you.’

This was it. The moment I dreaded. There had been so many secrets, so many half-truths and unspoken thoughts, for so long. Our secrets had torn us apart, placed us in dreadful danger, threatened our friendships and even our lives.

I took a deep breath. ‘No. I’m staying here.’

I watched their reactions as if they were familiar characters in a well-loved play. Willem blinked and Suraiya clutched at his hand uncertainly. Al-Qasim frowned as he understood what I meant. Luis glanced at Al-Qasim, then shrugged. Valentina laughed as if I was joking. Justinian leaped from his chair and stalked to the window — his face was hidden from me, so I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but his brother and father left me in no doubt about their own views. Everyone started shouting at once.

‘Are you mad?’

‘Mistress Hawkins, do not make such jests, please.’

‘Palace life has got to her, obviously,’ said Constantine. ‘She prefers to be a lapdog of the Sultan than a free woman of England.’

‘Isabella, you are not serious. Surely. Are you?’

‘What has got into you, child?’

‘Please,’ I said. ‘I’m not mad, nor am I under any delusions about what this means. I’m staying here in Constantinople because, quite simply, I promised Turhan Hadice.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Valentina. ‘She cannot hold you to that.’

‘The woman’s a schemer,’ said Constantine. ‘You owe her nothing.’

‘They are using you,’ said Willem.

‘They are using all of us.’ Al-Qasim smiled sadly at me. ‘You do not need to do this, Isabella.’

Only Justinian was silent.

‘I think that I do,’ I said. ‘If I go with you, if I break my promise, I will make enemies of everyone in the palace. Who knows what might happen? Besides, I can’t leave the Sultan now — he is in danger.’

‘You can’t be responsible for him, Isabella,’ said Valentina.

‘I’ve lost too many friends already,’ I said.

‘That’s Isabella for you,’ said Willem. ‘Full of herself, as usual.’ He pushed his cap back on his head. ‘You and your precious Sultan. But what about us, eh? Don’t we get some say in the matter?’

‘Don’t you understand?’ I looked from one to the other — all those dear, familiar, infuriating faces. ‘Why do you think I’ve been reading to the Sultan every day?’

‘We were never quite sure,’ said Willem, ‘whether it was ambition or the gold plates and fancy silks.’

‘That’s unfair,’ I said.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I tried to tell them you were just there for the food.’

Suraiya hid her smile.

‘I’ve been trying to keep you safe,’ I said. ‘To keep us all safe, under the protection of the Sultan himself.’ I glared at Willem. ‘I didn’t reckon on you doing stupid things like falling in love.’

‘I didn’t mean to,’ he said, crossing his arms.

‘You could at least have tried to prevent it.’

‘One day it’ll happen to you,’ he said, ‘and then you’ll know what it’s like.’

‘I hope I have more control over my sensibilities.’

‘That isn’t how it works,’ said Willem. ‘You really have no idea, do you? Love hits you in the face one day, like when you walk out into sunlight from a dark room, and then even if you close your eyes, you’re still in it.’

‘Willem, you made a simile,’ cried Valentina.

‘It all sounds dreadfully chaotic to me,’ I said.

Everyone laughed, except Justinian.

‘It is, my dear,’ said Valentina, ‘and that’s one of love’s charms.’

‘I hope I never suffer it, then, if it renders people so blind.’

‘And I hope,’ said Willem, raising his voice ever so slightly, ‘that I’m there to see it when you —’

‘Enough.’ Justinian broke through the giggling. ‘Isabella has decided. The question is, what do we do now?’

‘My dear, I beg of you …’ Valentina’s words caught in her throat.

I reached out and took her hand. ‘Don’t worry. Soon the Sultan will be old enough to exert more of his power, and then I’ll come and find you all, wherever you are.’

‘But that could be years!’

‘Time enough for Fra Clement to get sick of chasing me around the world,’ I said. ‘Then I’ll come home.’

‘You’ll be just like one of the Sultan’s slaves,’ said Willem. ‘Bound to him for life.’

‘When the time is right, Isabella will know when and how to leave, just as I once did,’ said Al-Qasim. ‘Of that I am sure.’

‘It doesn’t matter how long it takes,’ I said. ‘You are my dearest friends, and we will be together again, in Venice, I promise you.’

‘But it’s not safe,’ said Valentina. ‘Who will look after you?’

‘We will,’ said the Admiral. ‘Mistress Hawkins will come under the protection of the embassy.’

I smiled at him gratefully.

‘Of course,’ he went on, ‘she will be offered every hospitality by my family.’

‘But …’ Willem was still incredulous. ‘She can’t just decide these things all by herself.’

‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘I should have learned by now that keeping secrets from friends can be dangerous. We’ve all been following our own paths, unseen.’

‘Sadly, we live in a world where secrecy can keep us safe,’ said Al-Qasim.

‘Or that’s how it feels,’ said Justinian.

‘It’s a myth,’ I said. ‘A chimaera.’

‘A monster?’ asked Willem.

‘A fantasy,’ I said.

‘Well, why didn’t you just say that?’

‘I’m all in favour of a little intrigue, normally,’ said Luis with a wink at me. ‘But Isabella’s right. You were all hiding from each other, and that’s a child’s game. It’s over now. We need a plan. All of us.’

The Admiral and his sons left for home, insisting that if they didn’t hear what we were planning, they could answer truthfully that they had no knowledge of our scheme if questioned by Orga’s janissaries or, for that matter, their own Ambassador. But it was simple enough, really. Under cover of darkness, a boat would ferry Willem and Suraiya to the ship that had delivered Luis and Paco to us. It had been searched already, so Luis reasoned it was safe enough. After a few hours, the others would openly board the ship and it would set sail, supposedly bound for Venice. Instead, no doubt after some immense bribes to captain and crew, it would sail to Genoa, and there they’d find other ships: one to bear Valentina, Luis and Al-Qasim to London, and another to take Willem and his bride home to Amsterdam.

It already felt like one of the longest days I’d ever lived through, and yet that night I couldn’t sleep. I watched the candlelight flicker on the ceiling, listened to the sounds of the sleeping city: a donkey clomping through the streets, cats howling, a baby in one of the houses opposite. It was no use trying to read: my mind was too full of memories and arguments and fears.

At last, I gave up, got dressed, slipped out of the house and paid a sleepy boatman twice his usual fee to row me across the Golden Horn to the city.

Willem was asleep on the workshop floor, tangled hair across his face. I brushed it away from his eyes, but he didn’t stir.

‘Willem, wake up,’ I whispered, so as not to disturb Suraiya, whose gentle breathing came from the storeroom.

He blinked, closed his eyes again, then opened them wide. ‘Is it time already?’

‘Soon.’

He blinked again and let out a groan. ‘You frightened me, sitting there like that.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Pass me my jacket.’ He sat up, holding the blanket high so I couldn’t see his undershirt.

‘Willem, I need to talk to you.’

‘Can’t it wait?’

‘There may not be any other time.’

‘But if it’s nearly dawn —’

‘I love you.’

‘What?’ He fell back as if in shock. ‘You’re teasing me.’ He checked my expression. ‘No, you’re not teasing. Isabella? You can’t mean it, not after all this time?’

I tried to take his hand, but he snatched it away. His face seemed to be shut up tight against me. I couldn’t tell if it was due to anger or fear or something else entirely.

‘Will, you’re my brother — not by blood, but in my heart.’

He sighed, a huge exhalation that sounded something like relief, and at last he smiled. ‘Is that it?’

‘I trust you with my secrets,’ I said, ‘my safety, the words I write. Never forget that.’

‘Are you trying to give one of those inspiring farewell speeches like in the romances?’

‘Just for once could you be a little bit gracious?’

‘Can’t be bothered,’ he said. ‘We’ll see each other again, and soon.’

‘Of course.’

Tears filled my eyes. I turned my face away, into the darkness, while he climbed out of his bed and rummaged for his shirt and breeches.

‘Listen, I thought …’ he said, and took a deep breath. ‘Once, I thought we would get married, you and me. I could imagine us growing old together, and crotchety — you like Signora Contarini, God help me, and me like Master de Aquila. Running the workshop together. Annoying each other into an early grave.’

I smiled, and wiped the tears from my face with a corner of my veil.

‘But then,’ he said gently, ‘I found Suraiya. I felt so much, so many things I didn’t expect and hadn’t ever felt before. I realised then that, as you say, you and I — we are like brother and sister.’

‘But that doesn’t mean —’

‘That doesn’t mean we won’t grow old together.’ He smiled. ‘I know.’

‘Nor that we won’t annoy one another for a few more decades,’ I said.

He laughed. ‘Exactly.’

I reached out my hands. ‘Come on then, my brother. It’s time for you to leave.’

Instead of taking my hands, he put both his arms around me and held me close for the first and last time. We stood like that, together, for a very long time, until the first
muezzin
call sounded in the dawn air.

Then he kissed my hair and let me go.

I didn’t walk down to the quay to watch them leave. It would have attracted unwanted attention, and there was still a chance that all our plans could go astray. Instead, I kissed them goodbye — Suraiya, too — in the workshop.

‘The Sultan knows about your bravery,’ I whispered to her. ‘He wanted to thank you, and so did Turhan Hadice.’

She bowed her head.

I gave her a quick hug. ‘And I thank you, for everything you have done for me — for us.’

‘No need to get all maudlin,’ said Willem. He turned to Suraiya. ‘Come, we’d best go before she starts making any more speeches.’

He squeezed my hand, and they slipped silently out of the door and into the waking city.

The others left from Pera once the sun was up, with rather more fanfare and many tears. I waited alone in our empty house for a while, then made my way through the winding streets to stand on the hilltop overlooking the strait. Before me lay one of the greatest cities on earth, and beyond the water were unknown worlds filled with the sound of unfamiliar languages.

My future was in this city, surely: here with the Sultan and his sister and their library. Below, Willem hid in a ship’s belly, holding Suraiya’s hand. I would — I will — miss him all the days of my life. My chest ached with the loss of him. But there was something else. Something even more painful than that, and deeper.

I knew, then, that all these months of hiding, of pretending, were over. It simply wasn’t possible any more to deny what I felt, what I feared, what I knew to be true. The world had shifted, yet again, beneath my feet and I could no longer pretend otherwise. I knew the truth. My truth. I stood on that hill, wrapped tightly in my cloak, and let myself feel it all.