The Lake of Sorrows (27 page)

The doctor bowed his head deeply. “Your pardons, my lady.”

She nodded curtly. “I want to place Anesso by Pashou’s side, as her confidante. My daughter-in-law needs her right now. Anesso, in turn, is a tortured soul, too and an outsider. One Pashou can trust. It will do them both good to have one another under the current circumstances. Sharing your pain always helps to quiet down one’s choler.”

Karayannis could not help smiling in admiration. “I see, my lady. Anesso gets a safe home, and the Pasha’s pardon. Pashou gets a safety valve for her jealousy. And you, perhaps, get eyes and ears on your daughter-in-law. Pashou cannot refuse the offer if the Pasha makes it on your behalf. Your wisdom and kindness do you honor.”

“That is immaterial, doctor. I wish for them to do my
husband
honor. I realize that merely having a kind ear for her outbursts will not cure Pashou of her jealousy all of a sudden - but it might tide her over, until Muhtar is cured of his affliction for a certain Greek lady. One that neither you nor I want to see him pursue for a moment longer.”

The doctor’s smile faded, but the admiration remained. “And that, I assume, is
my
reason for aiding you in this, my lady?”

“It is no secret that you are a friend of the merchant Vassiliou and his wife. Nor is it any secret that I wish for my son and my husband to be reunited, for the good of both.”

Karayannis considered this for a long time. Eminee waited patiently, until he finally nodded, if only reluctantly.

“I will do as you wish, my lady. But, as a doctor, I must warn you that some afflictions are beyond curing.”

“Y
ou should not have come.”

Muhtar was standing in the bed-chamber of the Vassiliou house. With the cunning of a man whose life had depended on stealth during many a campaign, he had entered the dark room and stood there watching her uneasy sleep for a long time. He had made no sound, but nevertheless she had stirred, then opened her eyes and looked at him. She had slowly sat up in bed, silently and smiled and the smile was like hashish and opium and wine to him and more. But he did not move.

She spoke again, as if trying to convince herself more than him. “You should not have come.”

“Are we not beyond that, my love? I court death by being here. Mine
and
yours. If my father finds out I sneaked out the palace, he will … take you to the lake. Then he will find that he is wrong when he thinks he can keep me from falling on my sword. And poor Tahir’s head will be laughing at the flies beside colonel Duvnjak’s.”

“Tahir?”

“Did you really think I could get in and out of the palace unseen without the help of the captain of the guard?”

She rose from her bed and the covers fell away from her body like mist. Yet he recoiled. “No!”

Stunned, she froze where she stood, a pale ivory statue in the bluish moonlight. Her smile had vanished, and her face tortured him with its defenseless hurt.

His forced his words out between them. “If I take you in my arms now, we are lost. Nothing can make me leave. I will have killed you.”

She had no tears left. She merely stared at him, slowly sinking back onto the bed.

He spoke haltingly, not wanting to look at her, unable to take his eyes off her. “I wanted to see you.
Had
to. I march tomorrow with the army. Again. This time to take away the freedom of Souli. To hang helpless people who will not kneel before my father. I have done that before and worse, but now it sickens me. What I have done and what I must do. I wanted you to know
why
I do it still.”

“For me.” It was no question. “Your father would always have his way.”

“Yes. And I know you will not want your life to be bought at such a price.”

She looked away. He started towards her, caught himself, biting his lips until blood flowed. “I came to beg you to stay alive, Froshenie. You must promise me that. Even if I never get to see you again, promise me you will live. That you will … forget me if my father finds a way to bar us from ever meeting again. That you will be happy some day. You must. I cannot even say that if you do not, I must go back to the palace and fall on my sword, for that will change nothing. My father would kill you in an instant.
Look at me,
for Allah’s sake and your God’s, and tell me you will live.”

She spoke, but did not look at him. “If I look at you, I will not let you leave. And I will not take
your
life as you will not take mine. Go. I promise you I will live while you do.”

He staggered out, past a horrified Chryssie, who saw his face and made the sign of the cross at the sight of it.

A
lhi stood on the battlements of Yannina palace, captain Tahir and his daughter-in-law Pashou at his side and watched the column of his army winding its way through the hills ringing Yannina. The golden light fell on his face and Tahir had never seen such complete satisfaction dominate his master’s countenance.

Yet the expression suddenly soured and Alhi growled without turning his head. “I am as wary of those Souliote rascals as you are, but I have that Zavellas by his private parts. Treason will cost him an unbearable price!”

Tahir opened his mouth to speak, but Alhi was turning his head the other way, his face agitated as he listened to something - or someone - that the guard captain could neither see nor hear. Pashou looked at the captain, equally dumbfounded, for the Pasha was not addressing
her
, either.

Stabbing a finger at empty air, the Pasha growled again. “You were the one who urged me to tread carefully. I have taken every precaution. And I have put the boy in a position where he is unable to indulge his infatuation with his little Greek whore. Unfed, it will wither away.”

An icy shiver ran down Tahir’s spine as he realized who the Pasha was talking to. He hurriedly muttered a prayer to Allah and furtively made the sign of the cross, just for good measure. Pashou frowned in disgust at this, yet repeated the gesture as Alhi snapped another retort. “He
is
off my leash now, or at least it is invisible. He will become the conqueror of Souli, an achievement noone else can brag of. Pride can be a great cure for lovesickness.”

“My Pasha! I bring you great news.” Vaya, the Pasha’s advisor, trotted up, eager as a puppy. “You are once more the father of a fine son. Your wife Yulebahar has given birth. A strong, healthy boy!”

Alhi raised his arms to the sun and let out a howl of triumph that echoed from one end of the palace to the other. “You see, mother? Fortune favors me, fate bows before me. I will yet be the Sultan of all the Balkans. And Gardiki will be wiped from the surface of the Earth and from the dusty pages of history. We shall prevail!”

Laughing at the shocked faces of his captain, his advisor and his daughter-in-law, Alhi brushed past them, bounding down the stairs to the courtyard three steps at a time, like a carefree young goatherd of the Tepeleni dashing down a mountain.

P
ashou took her own sullen time to walk to her chambers. When she entered, Anesso was there to greet her, like a lap dog reunited with its master. She had been like that since she was brought to Pashou by doctor Karayannis - puttering about in Pashou’s rooms, face blank, like one of those child-like cherubs of the Christians’ church paintings, chattering to all and noone.

The door safely closed behind her, the Pasha’s daughter-in-law let out a hiss that would have terrified even a snake, though Anesso seemed not to notice. “Listen to his mother’s ghost, will he? Obey her, and defend his every action to someone that is only real to his insomnia-rotted mind? While he asks his living, breathing daughter-in-law to wait and wait and
wait
. Enough of the waiting already!”

She tramped over to a small table half-hidden behind a drapery. On its top sat a small, silver-filigree box. Hesitating only for a moment, she picked up the box and caressed it, like a man would a woman. “Enough indeed.” She slowly opened the box and sniffed its contents with a deep, contented sigh.

Beaming with playful curiosity, Anesso stepped forward. “What is it, noble mistress? Jewels, perhaps? You always loved the jewels I brought. Your face shone just like my precious stones. So sweet. Or is it sweets, perhaps? Nice sweets, like I also used to bring you? I can bring you more, if only Alexis would return from his travels to … to … ” She frowned, as if trying to remember something just beyond the reaches of memory. Pashou held out the opened box. “Do come and see, my dear Anesso. No, this is not one of the boxes you brought to me. Oh, no. This is from a peddler most unlike you.”

Anesso gave up trying to remember and eagerly looked into the box. She clapped her hands. “Oh, sweets indeed. Can I taste them? Oh, please, mistress, can I taste them. Such a fine aroma. Rose water, is it? Oh, this is a treat for a Pasha. Or a Sultan. Can I taste them?”

Despite her simmering wrath, Pashou let out a condescending chuckle, and again asked herself how her mother-in-law could have thought Anesso would be able to spy on anyone in her present state. “No, dearest, please do not eat any. You may smell them, though. They are indeed the finest orange sweets, straight from Constantinople. Made with rose water, yes, and the finest vanilla. A treat for a Sultan, you are so right. Or for a noble lady of Yannina.”

“Will we go see the ladies of Yannina?” Anesso clapped her hands again. “Oh, yes, we should do that. I have not seen any of them for so long, not since … ” Again, she frowned, struggling with the fog inside her mind.

Pashou clapped the box shut and handed it to her. “I do not know any lady of Yannina the way you do. But I feel so sorry for this Greek lady, Froshenie by name, who has had such an unfortunate misunderstanding with my husband. Men can give women such wrong impressions, can they not? She thought he loved her, now he has left for war without a thought for her and I hear she lies at home, crying.”

A bawl made tears burst from Anesso’s eyes. “Oh, little Froshenie, yes, I know her, so lonely she is, oh yes. Yes, the men always smiled at her and tried to catch her eye. But no, she loves her husband only and ever, yes, she should not be sad, no.”

Pashou put an arm around her shoulder. “There, there. She will cheer up again, I am sure. Not the least when her old friend Anesso calls on her. I hear she has a sweet tooth, so go visit her and make sure you deliver this into her own hands. She will appreciate their quality, she is said to be such a well-bred lady. Bring her these fine sweets as a gift. But do not let her know it comes from me. The poor girl thinks I dislike her.”

Anesso was already smiling through her tears. “Oh, thank you, mistress. Yes, little Froshenie
so
loves sweets, so she does. And I will not tell her you sent them, no, never, if you do not want me to.”

“I do not! Later, perhaps. I would like her to be my friend, but that is difficult. You understand?”

Anesso understood nothing, and nodded eagerly, then shook her head just as eagerly. “But she should like you, you have been so good to me, you have. I will take the sweets to Froshenie, but - can I taste? Just one. Just one little sweet?”

“No!” Pashou’s barked retort brought tears back to Anesso’s eyes and Pashou hastened to soften her voice. “No, please, Anesso. It is not right to sample a gift, at least not before it has been given. Do promise me you will not do that. I am sure Froshenie will share the sweets with you and you may eat all that she offers. But remember - she should eat the first one. It is her who has been given the gift, no?”

Once more, Anesso was beaming at her mistress, and she snapped up the box. “Ahh, you are so wise, mistress. Oh, yes, of course, Froshenie first, she so loves sweets, she does. And such a kind lady, she will let me taste all I want, so she will. May I take it to her now? Please? May I?”

Pashou patted her cheek. “Of course you may. We should not let poor Froshenie breathe her sorrows for one moment more if we can help it, should we?”

Anesso nodded her head like a dog wagging its tail and rushed out of the door.

Her mistress stared after her, caressing the spot on the table where the box had been, whispering to herself in an imitation of Anesso’s jabbering. “Oh, yes, little Froshenie, you so like sweets, so they say. So perhaps you will also like the venom of the Orsini Viper, it is said to taste like rose water, too, although it is odd, is it not, that anyone would know how it tastes. After all, noone knows anyone who lived long enough to tell the story of the taste
after
having tasted it, no they did not.”

T
hat night and for several nights thereafter, the Pasha of Hyperus slept.

He snored so loudly his harem women giggled and his guards laughed and they could not understand why their captain looked so worried still.

He would sleep past dawn, past breakfast time and almost till noon. Then, at long last, he would wake, stretch luxuriously like a lion and order a hearty meal brought to his bed. There he would share it with his first wife Eminee before walking in the harem gardens all day, humming to himself.

On the morning before the day that would see the army of Yannina at the gates of Souli, Vajas and captain Tahir accompanied the servants bringing the Pasha’s meal. Vajas, eager as ever, waved in a dusty courier. “News from the army, my Pasha. We thought it best to bring them to you immediately.”

Alhi frowned. “The army should not be arriving at Souli before tomorrow, so how can a courier already be here with good news?”

“I, ah, know not, my Pasha. But the letter he brings is not from your son.”

His Pasha’s frown deepened. “From whom, then?”

The courier stepped forward and held out the letter. “Captain Zavellas of Souli sends his greetings and his letter, my Pasha.”

It was Eminee who snapped up the letter and tore it open. Forgetting all propriety they almost struggled for possession of it, both racing through its contents.

My greetings to the tyrant of Yannina - and my curses. Yes, I can speak my mind freely in this letter, for your son is so distraught with the duty you have given him that he has given me the freedom of the camp and of his couriers. I write to you to let you know that you will never be Pasha or Sultan of the Balkans, or at least never of Souli. We are not your friends, never were, never will be.