The Lake of Sorrows (21 page)

Alexis was not even looking at the doctor, and made no reply. His were eyes red from unashamed crying, and he kept snapping off one reed after the other and breaking them into little pieces.

“For God’s sake, wake up, Alexis! If you keep sleep-walking like this, you will walk straight into a patrol and be in the Pasha’s dungeon when you finally wake up!”

“I have to try and save her somehow, doctor, do you not understand?” Alexis kept staring in the direction of the palace.

Karayannis grabbed the young man by the shoulders and shook him. “Alexis! I grieve for you both, but I have to be stern for your own good. You will never avenge Shouhrae if you lose your life, too. And vengeance is the most you can hope for. Take my advice and join the rebels in the mountains.”

“I will not run away!”

“Then you will die for no gain or reason. The mountains are the only safe place for you from now on.” He shook the young man again. “
Listen to me!
Sometimes, following your heart and just go charging headlong to your death is the easy way. But sometimes it is a betrayal of those you cannot save — for then who is left to avenge them?”

Fresh tears, now those of rage, washed down the young man’s cheeks and his words came out a wail. “You use words like those knives you doctors use to cut into people, doctor!” Despite the tears, he bared his teeth in a predatory sneer. “If I am to stand by and let them kill Shouhrae, I will not hide from it, at least.”

“And if you cannot control yourself, who will make the Beast pay for what he will do tomorrow?”

“Oh, he will pay for this all right, doctor. Perhaps not now, perhaps not soon, but by God, I will see the Lion of Hyperus brought down one day!”

Still sobbing bitterly, the young man disappeared among the reeds.

A
nesso sat down on the cracked bench in the small inner courtyard. Then rose and walked the six paces to its other side, startling the lazy birds frequenting the courtyard to flutter up, then settle down again in her wake. She came stomping back again and once more the birds fluttered and settled, chirping angrily. Anesso dropped heavily onto the bench again, nostrils flaring at the stench from the brackish puddles left by the storm, now cooking in the sun baking the enclosed yard.

A door was opened very slowly and carefully, and doctor Karayannis hesitantly appeared from the corridor leading to the harem.

Anesso all but pounced on him. “Doctor? What in God’s name took you so long. Is he safe? Is
she
safe? What happened? What — “

The doctor hurriedly put his hand over Anesso’s mouth and whispered in a grief-stricken, yet stern voice. “Go away, Anesso. Not wise to be seen here. I came only to warn you. They have arrested Shouhrae and the Pasha’s guards have been told to find your son and bring him to their master. And the dungeon-keeper is already heating up his irons.”

The peddler felt as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet. “They will not have my son! I will warn him. Hide him.” Her gaze darted around the courtyard that was now feeling like a trap. “And what about Shouhrae?”

Karayannis looked away. “Noone can save Shouhrae. The lake … “

Ashen-faced, Anesso stared at the doctor, as if trying to will him to say that ‘the lake’ had not meant what it did mean. “How can even the Beast bring himself to that? A mere girl … “

“He has. The lady Eminee wanted you to know that she begged the Pasha for Shouhrae’s life. But in vain.” He took a deep breath. “And so did I. I had just delivered the good news that his Yulebahar and the child inside her were beyond any danger now, and then I begged him to reconsider Shouhrae’s fate. But he merely answered that the lake had been thirsty for too long.”

Anesso was leaning heavily against a wall, gasping as if there was no more air left in the courtyard. “Here.” She produced a not inconsiderable purse from her robe. “Keep these and be silent about them. I do not want them. They are blood money.”

He reluctantly reached for the purse. “What is it?”

“Shouhrae had given me her jewels to sell so they would be able to flee this accursed place. If we cannot save her, let it buy her revenge.”

“Revenge? Keep your voice down, woman. And besides, why give it to
me?
”

“Oh, spare me your innocence, doctor, it is as fake as the cheapest glass beads. I have traveled all of Hyperus, and my ears are as open as my mouth. I know you are with those mad
Filiki
, and I know they always need arms. And even if do not peddle powder and shot myself, I know that the better tools of killing are always expensive.”

Half-blind with tears, Anesso fled the courtyard, praying as she had never prayed before.

D
octor Karayannis rushed down the corridor leading away from the harem. It was the most exquisite of the palace’s corridors, because anyone going the other way were going to the harem. For that reason it was supposed to bring forth peace of mind and awaken the appreciation and desire for beauty. It did nothing of the kind for the doctor, however. The polished pink marble floor was nothing but a very noisy place to have to put your boots and the intricately carved columns were like trees in a forbidding forest that could hide all manner of dangerous beasts. And he cursed all those confounded, nosy, servants that asked what the rush was, expecting every moment that the guards would hear and wonder what all the blabbering was all about.

Looking over his shoulder for the tenth time, he hissed a brush-off at yet another servant wondering about his haste in the mid-day heat - and slammed into captain Tahir marching in the opposite direction.

“Here now, what are you doing running so fast from the harem, doctor? Did one of your potions poison another harem girl? Here, your bag — my, it is heavy! Are you carrying around an entire pharmacy?”

“None of your business, captain.” Karayannis rapped his answer with the courage of hurt pride. “My potions restore health, they poison noone. And let me add that it is unseemly to make jokes about such things when the lady Yulebahar has only just recovered from a poisoning.”

“My, my, so feisty all of a sudden, are we, doctor? The lady
has
recovered, hence my good mood. I was concerned for her, you know. Very much so. If one harem woman was seen to get away with killing another, the harem would become an abattoir, you mark my words.” He took a step back and studied the doctor through eyes narrowing to slits. “And I did not ask you to teach me manners. I asked you the reason for your haste.”

“And that is no more
your
business than your manners are mine. Get out of my way. I have to talk to the lady Eminee.” Karayannis reached for his bag.

“About what?” Karayannis again tried to grab his bag, but Tahir held it just out of his reach.

The doctor mockingly imitated his gruff tone. “About the lady Eminee’s business, which is also none of yours. Since when do guard captains concern themselves with ladies’ affairs?”

“You have spirit, doctor, more than most of the stuck-up folk in your fair city, I will grant you that. But use it like your potions - measure it carefully.”

“Or what? It seems to me you ask this just to see if I will answer, and not because you have any interest in the answer itself. Now give me my bag.” He snatched it out of the captain’s hand so roughly that Tahir’s eyes widened in indignant surprise.

Karayannis stepped forward, then had to stop, for the captain did not give way. Seething, the doctor rasped at the captain. “You think you will dare to lay a hand on me? I am the man who has saved what might be a new son of your master’s, remember?”

He moved to take another step. “Now stop me by force and suffer the consequences - or let me go on my way. Now!”

Tahir’s eyes had been widening with every word of the doctor’s, until he looked about to dismember him. Then he suddenly burst into laughing. “My, my — I really think I would be apprehensive if I ever had to face you knife in hand, little doctor. You would be serious about it, even if you would not know one end of a blade from the other. Oh, on your way, then. As if I could not simply suggest to the Pasha that he asked his wife what all this was about.”

He stepped aside and bowed excessively. Protruding his chin with pride, Karayannis brushed past him and hurried on.

Had he looked over her shoulder, he would have seen the old man watching him closely, his face as suspicious as it had been amused a moment before.

B
ehind the palace of Yannina, the old castle ruins lay like the half-collapsed skeleton of some monstrous animal that had died long ago, reaching all the way down to the lake. The only clear passage through the reeds to the lake’s shore was through the maze of old and cracked stones, the roofless floors forming an uneven path right down to the quay that had been built with little attention to beauty by re-using stones from the ruins. Rough though they were, the stones forming the path had been worn smooth by the dragging feet of all those that had been brought down here never to return.

The sky above the lake was cloudlessly bright and sunny, this was a morning for languorous pleasure; but killing was the Pasha’s pleasure today, and so Shouhrae was forced, kicking and screaming, along the passage by two burly guardsmen, the dungeon-keeper close behind them, laughing. “Look, and be proud, wench. You are giving them all a great lesson today — never cross the Pasha.”

The banks of the lake were crowded. The Pasha’s invitation to attend could not be ignored, unless one wanted to risk joining the girl now being manhandled into a small boat by the guardsmen. His ‘invitations’ had, as always on such occasions, been given by grim-faced soldiers to high and low in Yannina, purposely without any system or predictability.

The Pasha arrived at this very moment, dressed in his finest, as if for a state occasion, a small phalanx of guardsmen around him. He smiled and greeted the nearest guests with royal cordiality, eliciting stammering, subdued replies from those unfortunate enough to be favored with his attention.

Shouhrae tried one last time to break free, but one guard grabbed her by the hair and shoved her head underwater for a moment, then dragged her back, hissing in her ear. “Enjoy your last breaths of air instead of giving us all this useless trouble, you little whore. You will be breathing water very soon.”

He released her, and she sank back into the boat, looking at the sky, desperately savoring the soft breeze of the lake wind on her face, staring into the sun until tears blurred her vision. Then she took a deep breath and brought Alexis’ face to her mind. A long sigh seeped out her as the guardsmen rowed the boat away from the shore.

“Look at her. She is embracing Death, yet she remains calm.”

“Gone mad with fear, the wench has.” The other guard snorted at the reluctant admiration in his comrade’s voice. “Courage from a little whore such as her? Do not make me laugh.”

The dungeon-keeper leaned forward and leered at her. “Let us see if she will remain calm once the bag of oats is tied around her pretty little neck and she takes the plunge.”

A slight tremor ran through Shouhrae and he leaned back, rubbing his hands. “Noone has yet managed to spoil for us the pleasure of a good struggle against the lake’s embrace. This one will not do so, either. You will see.”

The boat reached the lake’s middle and the dungeon-keeper was proven right. Shouhrae’s screams echoed to the shore, her thrashing made the audience close their eyes, hoping the Pasha or his men would not catch them doing so.

Then the lake’s dark waters were still again and the only sounds were the quiet whisper of the wind and the subdued splashing of the oars, as the soldiers rowed back to the shore.

The crowd on the shore remained motionless, whether mesmerized by what they had just witnessed or too frightened be the first to leave. Only when the boat reached the quay did they begin to stir, stealing glances at Alhi, who was beaming at them from among the glimmering weapons of his guardsmen.

The Pasha dismissed them with a grand gesture and left the lake shore at a measured, dignified pace, his guardsmen falling in behind him with solemn, heavy steps.

The crowd was dispersing, slowly, timidly. Ever so quietly, one spectator, a wizened old man with tears in his eyes whispered to another. “I always thought this would be less horrible when I could not see it too clearly.”

The man he spoke really did not want to answer, but gulped. “You mean it is not the first time you have seen this … this … ” He could not find the words.

“I am an old man. I have been forced to watch this many times, especially when the Pasha was younger, God help me. It has been years since he last acted in this abhorrent manner. We were all hoping he had given it up altogether, but now … When you see it with sharp eyes, you wish your sight was poor. But nowadays my sight
is
poor, and then my mind conjures up all manner of horrors at the
sound
of it.” He shuddered, and hastily looked around him, fearful that anyone might have noticed.

“How can we let this happen? I will be revolted with myself for … for I do not know how long.”

The old man answered in a savage tone, yet he was wise enough to keep it a whisper nonetheless. “We let it happen because we would rather
see
than
be
this ghastly spectacle. And the Pasha knows that full well. Just as he knows we will now hate ourselves as cowards because of it.”

His companion was fighting back tears, although he did not know if they were those of fear or rage. “Enough. Let us sneak away while we can - although I cannot imagine how we can ever feel safe again.”

Before they could part, a harsh voice reached their ears from the group of caped and hooded harem girls; despite its harshness, the voice was that of a woman. “You are crying for Shouhrae’s death. You should not. You should applaud. Treason must be met with swift and just punishment.”

The old man hissed between his teeth. “God’s blood, what woman can be as cruel-minded as that?”

The other man’s teeth chattered slightly, despite the warm morning sun. “It is Pashou — the wife of Muhtar Bey, the Pasha’s son.”