Free The Lake of Sorrows by Rovena Cumani, Thomas Hauge Page A

they will need new enemies for new victories. But our Sultan is too big an enemy, so the French will want friends that will keep the Sultan at ease - and away.”
    “Indeed.” Alhi was cutting inside the boar’s hulk. “You see, I wrote to this young whippersnapper general of theirs, Bonaparte, to congratulate him on his continuous success and advancements. But, clever fox that the lad is, realizing I admire him, he has obviously asked the French emissary to woo me to be his ally. Just in case. What did you say his name was, Tahir?”
    “Rose. His name is Rose, my Pasha. What a name for a man!” The captain of the guard snorted with disdain, watching the butcher’s and servants’ work with a look of anticipation, as did the rest of the Pasha’s retinue — except for those openly smirking at Vajas’ pallor.
    Alhi added a smirk of his own, as he triumphantly lifted the boar’s heart. “I gather his name is differently pronounced in his own language, but never mind. Get this Rose, Rouge, Ross or whatever to the palace tomorrow and keep your eyes open.”
    Vajas dared to break in — anything to distract himself from his insides. “His correct name is Roche. But Rose would suit him too, from what I hear. Your spies are right, he is said to be a dashing soldier, but also unable to keep his eyes off the fine women of Yannina. He is indeed a lover of female beauty.”
    With a grunt of satisfaction, Alhi slapped the sizeable boar’s heart into the hands of a somewhat pale-faced servant who placed it on a spit and took it to the fire.
    Alhi’s eyes sparkled at the sight. “Such appetites are always a great advantage for a man’s enemies. It makes our work child’s play.” He smiled, not quite like a Pasha. “Put a pretty and vivacious woman in a lecherous man’s bed and you can ask in the morning all the privileges any ally could ever want. He will give them to you. And are we going to ask!”
    With the skill of a man who had hunted since he learned to walk, Alhi was swiftly and expertly skinning and slicing up the choice parts of the boar, the servants rushing them to the fire for roasting. Alhi sniffed the air, beaming. “But beware and keep your eyes open, however.” Satisfied that there was ample meat for everyone, Alhi rose to his feet and looked with mock gravitas at his captain and his advisor in turn. “Do not allow the degenerate ways of the West to fool you. All they want is to take advantage of us, nothing else. It is up to us to take advantage of
them.
Keep that in mind, both of you, at all times. And Tahir. You will answer for the safety of this Roche during his stay in Yannina. You will start your preparations immediately -
after
you have enjoyed this boar with us, that is. How could I be so cruel as to deny any man a part of this?”
    Soon, the hunters were gorging themselves on rare meat, standing in a circle around the dismembered boar, its severed head gazing emptily up at them. Vajas twisted and turned the fine cut of meat he had been giving, until a stern glance from Tahir - seasoned with a telling, sideways glance at the Pasha - made the advisor haltingly sink his teeth into his blood-dripping food.
    “Wondrous, eh?” Gobbling down boar’s heart with relish, Alhi slapped his young advisor on the shoulder, and Vajas’ first, hard-fought bite went down the wrong way. The youth coughed explosively, to a chorus of hearty laughs from the feasting hunters.
    “Eat up, Vajas, you will not enjoy such fine fresh food for a long time to come. You will handle all that tedious formal negotiating and paper-writing with the French, I have no patience for prattle and pen-pushing. Keep in mind that the price of our friendship must be that the French send us western artillery — Bonaparte’s tools of victory.”
    Vajas unenthusiastically took a large bite of meat and chewed valiantly, hoping this would buy him forgiveness for his next words. “Forgive my, my Pasha, but is it really wise? Alliance