Pawn in Frankincense - Dorothy Dunnett [284]
There was a sigh: a sound which had no single origin, but floated over the heads of those watching and up to the ringed roof. In it, Gabriel exclaimed sharply, and started forward, but Lymond’s voice spoke first, very evenly. ‘The Sultana has spoken, and we shall obey. Jubrael Pasha, who is guilty, and I, who have been presumptuous, will play against each other and the loser will die. But since my sin perhaps is less than your Vizier’s, may I put my head under your foot for a boon? Let the game be between us two only, with inanimate pieces, or men who will suffer nothing if taken. The others standing before you are not deserving of death.’
The veil studied him. ‘Indeed, Mr Crawford,’ said Roxelana Sultán. ‘Then it will be for your skill to protect them. You may leave.’
The sun was shining when they came out, and there was even a bird trilling high in the bare branches of the plane tree, deceived by the promise of spring. In the harem, where Philippa and Marthe were marched with the two children, it was, surprisingly, the prosaic Philippa who exploded into angry tears like a rocket until Marthe, pale-faced, slapped her cheek hard and held her by the thin shoulders until her sobbing died down. Marthe said, ‘The children. You’re frightening the children’; and Philippa, breathing harshly, was quiet.
‘Now eat,’ said Marthe. ‘Whether you want to or not. The children as well.… Juste ciel, don’t you recognize yet that this is life, this two-sided trickery? There is hope, and here is brutality, to cancel it out. You think we should help one another. Why, when in a twist of an hour our lives can be turned into ashes, through no fault of our own? I told you once. I live for nothing, and I hope for nothing. I am not disappointed.’
The four men walked through the gardens too, between two files of white-helmeted Janissaries, and in their cell were given water and food. The sight of the food made Jerott want to vomit. He said cheerfully, ‘Well, well. Thank God you’re a dab hand at chess.’
‘If you’re going to be bright,’ said Lymond, with a soft and frightening venom, ‘I’ll break your sweet little neck.’ He put his hands back over his face and said half to himself, ‘Oh, hell. Oh, bloody, bloody hell.…’
‘She is a bitch,’ said Míkál’s musical voice. Of them all, he seemed least perturbed. ‘A known bitch. Even to get the Sultan to marry her, she resorted to trickery.…’
Lymond said, his voice even lower, ‘Why the hell did you bring back the children?’
‘You asked me that before,’ said Míkál. ‘I told you, Kiaya Khátún required it. She said, when you betray Mr Crawford to Gabriel, you betray also the escape of the children. It will look natural.’ His face brightened. ‘Perhaps Kiaya Khátún will dissuade the Sultana.’
Jerott said, ‘I notice Kiaya Khátún isn’t among us. I take it she doesn’t rank for this purpose as one of your friends?’ He wondered how heavily Lymond was drugged. He knew the signs now: knew that Archie had given him a massive dose on his return and that he was fighting drowsiness at this moment; trying to build towards the level of self-control and command he would need in the afternoon. Archie, busy, thought Jerott furiously, as a bull-fighter’s auntie, had no time, apparently, to feel qualms about what was going to happen that same afternoon.
He started to repeat his question but Lymond suddenly brought his own temper hard under control and said quietly, ‘I’m sorry. I heard you. Look … Kiaya Khátún is Dragut’s mistress and governess of the girls. She knows too much, and she’s too powerful, and too well connected to have her neck wrung in a chess game. Roxelana will keep her, and do her utmost to buy her silence and friendship.… We are a different matter. Gabriel, too.’
‘You did find something then?’ Jerott asked.
Of course,’ said Lymond wearily. ‘Do you think we made it all up? The rumour Gabriel was spreading was perfectly true. Rustem Pasha and