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

with the French, yes — but cannon? The Sultan
is
most stingy with cannon for his … vassals. Because some of them have given him good reason to be so.”
    Alhi chuckled, then sighed, as he sat down heavily with his back leaning against a tree, slapping his stout belly. Finally free to do likewise, his companions sank down onto rocks and against trees, the older ones grunting and creaking as they stretched their well-worn limbs. “Oh, yes, and he has been more stingy towards me than most. I suppose I should consider it a compliment.” Alhi chuckled again, let out a hearty, contemptuous belch. “But those French guns are everything the Sultan has denied me, at half the weight, too. And our army’s forte is movement, Vajas, speed. Like Bonaparte’s. Now is the time to begin extricating myself from the Sultan’s embrace. I have the men, this Roche will give me the tools.”
    Suddenly, the unpredictable pendulum of his mood swung to the opposite side, and he stretched an aching leg, groaning. “I do all I can to make Hyperus stronger than ever, and yet my own son betrays me. His mind is on women instead of being here to plan strategy with me!”
    “He is young, my Pasha.” Vajas spoke in his most soothing, compliant voice. He was not surprised by the sudden change of subject, but the Pasha had been especially irritable of late whenever he spoke of his son; and even a trusted advisor disliked being with Alhi Pasha when he was in a foul mood. Vajas could not help noting that, to a man, the hunters and servants around them had become positively entranced with their food, hearing absolutely nothing, and most carefully not looking in the direction of the Pasha and his advisor.
    “Young?” Alhi was almost in a rage now. “At his age I was ruling all of Thessaly already!” He waved his arms furiously to indicate the countryside around them. “Now I am Pasha. Foreign emissaries come and go in my palace. The affairs of state are at a crucial point. Yet Muhtar could not care less! He would much rather chase after this Froshenie woman like a child after a toy.”
    He banged his fist into his own palm and growled, his eyes distant. “I will bet you half my
Pashalik
he is already launching a campaign to eventually put him in her bed, or her in his.” Alhi stabbed a finger at his advisor. “But he will not make that Christian filly part of his harem, Vajas. I will not tolerate that!”
    Vajas nervously nodded his agreement, as a cheer went up at the sight of riders from Yannina bringing wine. But the advisor could not help wondering just why the Pasha was so opposed to his son conquering this particular woman.

----
XX
----
    T hat very night someone knocked on the door to the Vassiliou house and took both Froshenie and Chryssie by unwanted surprise.
    “Answer the door Chryssie.” Froshenie’s voice quivered, for the night was dark as ink outside.
    “Are you serious? Open the door this late at night?” The Vaya was reluctant to the point of mutiny.
    The knocking became louder and more insistent - or desperate.
    “Better open it up, before it is broken down, Vaya. Whoever it is, they will not leave.”
    Chryssie opened the door like an exorcist waiting to see the devil - outside stood a gentleman she did not know.
    “Good evening, my lady.” The gentleman waited to be invited in.
    “People are used to saying goodnight at this hour, my good man! Who are you and what do you want in the middle of the night?”
    “I am a merchant from Venice. My name is Levandinos and I come to see your lady. I have the most exquisite merchandise and they told me that your lady dresses up with the best and most expensive, but is too ill to leave her house. So I call on her to offer her a look at the splendor of my wares.”
    “My lady has more than plenty, so please be on your way to the next house, if you are chasing customers.” Chryssie tried to wave him away and close the door.
    “I will not leave until I have seen your lady.”