All That Was Before

By W,C Leger

Giacomo and his wife have come to Constantinople to open a trading office for his mentor. Once the greatest City in the western world, with over a million souls; it is now a shadow of its former self. Although there is still a hint of its previous splendor; it is mostly a collection of rundown buildings; many abandoned; on dark and in some places, unpaved streets and much of the City has actually reverted to forest and farmland. Even the once mighty walls, which have repelled many attempts at conquest, are in danger of tumbling down.
Still; for them, it proves to be the opportunity of a lifetime and they have great hopes for the future; business is brisk and profitable and as successful merchants; they are even invited to the Emperor’s New Year’s Ball. Residing in their own home in the Venetian Quarter, they have never been happier.
But there are dark clouds on the horizon that threaten to bring this all to an end when the Ottoman Sultan perishes and his son, Mehmet ascends to power. He is an ambitious, capable yet rather cruel young man, who has set his eyes on making the City his.
When Giacomo and his wife volunteer to help defend the city, they are drawn into the subsequent maelstrom and once again fate shall determine their destiny.
This is book two of the romantic adventure series: The Innkeeper’s Nephew which is currently available on Amazon Kindle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W,C Leger
• Release date: Jan 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370935918

W,C Leger

William Leger grew up in New England. His father was in the Navy so he traveled a lot but finally settled in Maine. After high school, he enlisted in the U.S. Army and served two years in Viet Nam, as a combat engineer. Upon leaving the Army, he worked several jobs and was married before becoming a professional firefighter. Attending classes nights at the University of Maine, he got a Bachelor's degree in History in 1979. After graduation, he worked two more years in Maine before leaving the fire department and moving to the mid-west. There, he went to work for the government and apprenticed, as a machinist, getting his journeyman card in 1987. Bill later became a Quality Assurance Specialist, which took him back to New England for several years. He then returned to the mid-west ten years later and retired in 2012. Throughout; history has been his passion. As his history professor emphasized: “History is the story of the lives of people and not just a study of names, places, and dates.” The author is therefore interested in putting history back into a human perspective because that is what it was really about. Since the late “middle ages”; that time just before the Italian Renaissance was so important even to modern events: that is what the author has concentrated his studies on. One last disclaimer: Characters in his novels occasionally use derogatory dialogue regarding issues of religious beliefs because that was, as natural for various factions at that time, as it is now. Please do not mistake or construe any of the character’s statements or comments, as reflective of the author’s personal opinions or as an attempt to exalt or vilify any particular faith.

Book preview

489

All That Was Before

By

W.C. Leger

Revision 1A

Copyright 2016

All Rights Reserved

(ISBN 9781370935918)

Published by W.C. Leger at Smash

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase you own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All That Was Before

I dedicate this novel to my late wife Suzanne; the love of my life and the inspiration for this book. Without her nothing good in my life would have ever been; she was my Rachel.

And Professor Phillip Cole of the University of Maine who taught me that history was about people's lives and not just places, dates and events!

I would like to thank Dave Tellman, Ms. Kathleen Olson and Ms. Judy Schalk, who not only read every page of each of my manuscripts; offering valuable feedback but encouraged me to continue writing during those times when it all seemed like such a futile effort.

W.C. Leger, University of Southern Maine, Class of 1979

Contents

Chapter 1 - City of Dreams

Chapter 2 - Portrait of Madness

Chapter 3 - Settling In

Chapter 4 - The Imperial Ball

Chapter 5 - The Noose is Tied

Chapter 6 - The Noose is Set

Chapter 7 - All that was before…

Chapter 8 - War Clouds and Doom

Chapter 9 - Plans and Preparations

Chapter 10 - At the Scaffold

Chapter 11 - The First Shots

Chapter 12 - When ships sail on land…

Chapter 13 - Clash on the Walls

Chapter 14 - Towers, Tunnels and Portents

Chapter 15 - The Day

Chapter 16 - The Final Meeting

Chapter 17 - Fetih: The Conqueror

Chapter 18 - Stolen Dreams

Bibliography

Constantinople May 1453

Eastern Meditteranean: A Different World

All That Was Before

The tyrant can always find an excuse for his tyranny. The unjust will not listen to the reasoning of the innocent. Aesop

Chapter 1

To the City of Dreams

November 5, 1451

Shortly after noon, as the bells were sounding out their tone from the Campanile, the Venetian war galley, commanded by Antonio Rizzo, a veteran sailor, who’d spent his life in the service of the Republic, pulled away from the pier and entered the channel.

On board were Giacomo Sforza and his wife Rachel, who were going ostensibly to open a trading office in the City of Constantinople for his employer, Benito Bertollucci, a wealthy Venetian merchant. The fact that, they, like all patriotic Venetians, were expected to inform the Republic of any pertinent information; meant that the trip was being subsidized by the Republic with the express permission of Venetian Doge, Francesco Foscari.

Now Giacomo and Rachel stood alone at the stern of the ship holding hands and watching their former world grow smaller, as their ship sailed away from the Venetian Arsenal, the naval station and armory of the Venetian Republic and made its way past the Lido, to the open waters of the Adriatic.

Though they both were thinking the same thing, neither dared voice their concern that they might never see their home again; instead they looked forward to seeing the great City of Constantinople; the City of Dreams.

Captain Rizzo stood by his steersman watching everything intently, while the galley lurched forward with each pull of the oars. When he judged they’d cleared the channel sufficiently, he gave the order to "unfurl the sails" and those not at the oars untied the rolled up canvas sheets and raised the yardarm into place.

Once the sails were filled, he gave the order to "ship oars". Each long paddle was pulled in, stowed and tied down onto special racks at the middle of the main deck and in a matter of minutes the galley was gliding smoothly through the water under its own sails.

The two travelers watched everything with silent fascination, amazed that nobody seemed to get into the way or be knocked overboard. With the stabilizing effect of the oars removed, though, the ship rolled more and in a matter of minutes, they were regretting eating such a large breakfast; holding onto each other and leaning over the ship’s rail to be sick.

Antonio waited a few minutes before he stepped beside them and with a mischievous laugh, remarked, Good, I see that you two are enjoying the trip, already.

Aaah, we’ve never been on a ship before, Rachel moaned, gripping her sore stomach and trying not to swallow.

Really; I never would have guessed, Antonio, replied with a laugh, before walking away

After an hour, one of the crewmen brought a cup of water to the two travelers, who were, by now, sitting on the deck; looking very pale.

Here you are, milady; if you’ve got to be sick, it’s better to have something on your stomach so drink lots of water. Don’t worry though, you get used to it.

She took a sip from the cup then handed it to Giacomo, who finished the rest while the crewman returned to his duties.

Well my sweet, I’m feeling a little better; how about you? Perhaps we should go downstairs before we make bigger fools of ourselves than we already have; I didn’t sleep at all last night and could use a nap.

They helped each other onto wobbly legs, staggered across the deck and descended the stairs to the Captain’s cabin and a few minutes later, were sound asleep in each other’s arms.

…And so ended the first day of their mission.

***

The Rialto, Palace of the Doge

Benito gave, his driver, Enrico, instructions to take Lydia and Bernadette anywhere they wanted to go but to be back by noon. Then with Stefano, he climbed to the top of the staircase, where they were met by two guards, who took their weapons and greeted by the Doge’s close confidant, Senator Castiglione, who led them to the Francesco Foscari's office.

Ah, Signor Bertollucci, it’s so good to see you and Signor de Baldo again. Come and sit, the Doge said, as Senator poured wine into the glasses that had been set on his desk.

I trust you had a good night's stay in Venice and presume that your young protégé and his wife have left with the noon tide. Well then, there is much to talk about, Francesco Foscari said, picking up a stack of papers.

I’ve just received a report from our Bailo that Ishak Bey, the Sultan’s Beylerbey (Governor) of Anatolia has put down the rebellion there with his usual cruel efficiency. There are a lot of bodies spitted on stakes, including the families of the rebel leaders, as a warning against further subversion. That means that the Sultan will be free to begin his plan for the conquest of the City.

I must also tell you; that I have just signed an agreement put forward by the Senate, which will, for the time being, keep us from entering into any alliances against the Sultan, he continued, noting the cold glare that Stefano directed at Castiglione.

Be assured, Rafael fought this and I too am against it in principle but because we are still fighting Milan; I cannot let Venice become involved in a war with the Turks. This means that information about what is going on in the Balkans and especially the City will be even more vital; I hope you have drilled this into your young protégé...

Giacomo will do well by the Republic; I can promise you that, Excellency!

Good! I have arranged the payment of twenty ducats per month for each of you, for as long as you continue to serve the Republic. When the time comes for him to return, I will arrange another vessel for his safe transportation and all costs for the move. I also had a messenger deliver a package to Captain Rizzo, which contains letters of introduction to some very important people in the City. He will find them helpful; Girolomo Minotto, our Bailo, has been instructed to provide whatever assistance that he can while keeping our official relationship secret.

That is very kind of you, Excellency; I’m sure he won’t let you down. As to the payment, I would prefer that you gave my share to him, since he’s the one taking all the risk.

Very well, then forty ducats will be paid to his account each month.

The Senator leaned forward next.

As you know, I’ve been working very hard to get the support needed to sponsor you to the Great Council. Next month there is a vote coming for candidates and your name will be submitted for consideration. While it is, of course, a secret ballot, which I have no control over, I feel very sure that you will have no problem being accepted. You, of course, understand that it will be months before the final report of the investigating committee is presented and your admission is voted upon?

Benito thought for a minute and glanced at Stefano before speaking.

Senator, I mean no disrespect whatever and please be aware that I am very grateful for all of your efforts but I understand how Venetian politics work. So without appearing to be arrogant; let me say, thank you for all that you are doing, but I will await the outcome of the vote before I start celebrating.

The Senator smiled and replied, Now, there you see; that is why, I feel that you would be a good addition to the Council; you are a realist and not prone to let wishful thinking get into the way of sound judgment and… you speak your mind. In fact; I would have been disappointed had you reacted in any other way. Venetian politics is based on the cynical notion that ambition will bring out the worst in any good man so it has built in a myriad of checks to stop such abuse. Sometimes that works well and good people are rewarded and scoundrels held at bay. Other times it causes good people to be trodden under the traffic of political intrigue. A strong cynical attitude is essential, if you are to be a good political animal. I think you really have a future in the Great Council, if we can just get you by this vote. If not this vote; then next year’s…

Well, I hate to be rude Signor Bertollucci but I have meetings the rest of the day. It’s been good seeing you again, the Doge interrupted, offering his hand and bringing the meeting to an end.

Benito and Stefano stood and bowed then left; saying nothing, as they went outside to await Enrico.

***

After three days at sea, Giacomo and Rachel became used to the rolling and pitching and were able to go on deck and enjoy the fresh air and even eat without getting sick.

As they moved farther south, the weather became warm and everyone doffed their coats and warm clothing. The presence of such an attractive woman amongst so many young men was distracting though, so Antonio had to restrict Rachel to the quarterdeck, whenever she came up.

That wasn’t a problem though; this was not like a military camp; she was the only woman here and besides, the way the men looked at her, made her husband uncomfortable too.

She actually enjoyed sailing: standing barefoot at the rear of the ship and letting the wind blow through her hair seemed to renew her spirit. She especially liked the nights; sailing under moonlight with the black sea strangely illuminated by the ship's wake, as they sailed on into the darkness with nothing but the stars to guide them.

He was not so enamored with the sea and looked forward to getting his feet back on solid ground, especially after weathering several squalls, which left him pale and shaken.

A week had passed and they were standing on deck, watching the sunset when the Captain came to greet them:

Well how do you like sailing so far?

I love it, now that I’m not getting sick anymore! It’s such a different world being on a ship, Rachel replied; pushing her blowing hair out of her face.

Oh it’s quite a different world; back here where we’re at, for instance, is called the stern of the ship and the front is the bow or prow. This is the quarterdeck, sometimes called the stern castle; should we ever go into battle… (Rachel’s eyes suddenly widened) ...this is where many of my archers will fight, just like it was a castle.

The front quarter deck is called the forward castle for the same reason and you’ll hear some of the older men calling it the fo’csle, he continued; obviously pleased by the look of interest in her eyes.

That thing over there... he said pointing at the long pole being held by the steersman, ...is called the tiller and guides the ship. In the old days, it was a big paddle or an oar and was called the steer board and was always on the right side which is why that is called the steer board or sometimes starboard side.

When they went into port they used to tie up on the left side of the ship so they wouldn’t risk damaging the steer board; so the left side of a ship, even today, is called the port side.

You said something about battle… Rachel interrupted with a worried expression.

"This is a warship after all; it’s built to fight. The timbers are stronger than a merchantman and we sit higher in the water to make boarding harder. In battle, I direct things from here or up there in the rigging. Men armed with crossbows fight from here and on the forecastle so they can shoot down on the enemy ships, while other men on the main deck keep the enemy from boarding. We even have what the French call ‘guns’ on the bow," he said, pointing forward.

Don’t worry though, we’re too big for any pirates to challenge, there are no Genoese ships known to be prowling in these waters and the Turks have not learned how to use ships very well yet. That’s why you were sent with us.

How long have you been a sea Captain? Giacomo asked.

Oh, I went to sea when I was just young. I started out as a rower just like them, working for a percentage of what the cargo yielded. Later, I worked my way up, learning about the sea and how to handle all kinds of ships, under a Ship's Master, till I was good enough to be trusted commanding men and earned my own Master’s papers. I eventually got my own ship to command twelve years ago.

Over the years, I gradually got command of larger and larger vessels until I was put in charge of war galleys, almost five years ago. It’s been a good life for me but I want more...Venice owns most of the ships and the merchants lease them to carry cargo, but the real money comes from owning the ships yourself and leasing them to the Republic. When I finish this cruise, I will buy my own vessel and transport grain from the Black Sea to Constantinople and make some real money; that’s something I’ve always wanted to do.

Hopefully I’ll become rich enough to buy a nice villa on Terra Firma and retire with my wife and children but that will be a while yet… Well, if you’ll excuse me, it’s getting late and I like to get to bed early so I can be up with the sun; good night.

After he left they watched the stars for several more minutes, without saying a word before going below and to bed.

Could you even imagine this ever happening two years ago? he asked, as she put her head on his shoulder.

"I could never have imagined anything that's happened to us these last two years…"

***

That same evening, another Venetian warship was putting into port on the Golden Horn, as the harbor pilot steered the vessel into her anchorage with practiced skill. Within an hour, the ship was tied up and after the crew’s watches were assigned and the proper papers filled out at the port office, Rodolfo dal Montenero, Captain General of the Venetian Southern Flotilla; was driven through the dark streets of the City, to the Venetian Quarter and the Bailo’s home and office.

Girolomo Minotto, the Venetian Bailo (Ambassador), was a professional civil servant of Venice. A member of the Great Council from birth, his noble family had connections to the Republic traceable back to the days when Venice had been part of the Byzantine Empire more than eight hundred years before. He’d worked his way upwards as a soldier, merchant and international businessman; increasing the family fortune considerably on the way. He’d also served as a Consul to Ragusa, France and Portugal before being posted as Ambassador to Constantinople.

For many; that would have seemed like punishment, but unlike many of his social class, who preferred being near home; where they might oversee their political fortunes; Girolomo had always enjoyed the adventure of foreign duty and like any man, who enjoys his work, had served the Republic well, over the years.

This put him at odds with his wife, Andrea Contarini Minotto, who much preferred the amenities of home and enjoyed the comfort, intrigues and relative safety of Venetian politics over the dangers and uncertainty of service abroad amongst people, who she generally considered to be far below her station.

A beautiful woman in her youth and always ambitious, she was also from an aristocratic family and missed the privilege that came with status and wealth. Her father had been the Venetian governor of Verona when Girolomo, a dashing young soldier at the time, had met and swept her off her feet. After their marriage, she’d always dreamed of seeing her husband rise through the ranks to the inner circle of Venetian politics, becoming a member of the Senate, the Committee of Forty, the Council of Ten and eventually perhaps; being elected Doge.

Instead she’d had to follow her husband to rundown places along the Adriatic, Paris, Lisbon, and now here, living in apartments unworthy of somebody of her station in the center of the tired old city of Constantinople. It was galling to her and she let everyone know how she felt by her attitude. She was not a happy woman and made those around her equally unhappy, so she was not liked.

Rodolfo knocked at the door and was greeted by the Bailo's secretary, who ushered him into the Minotto's office before going upstairs to advise his employer of the Captain General's presence.

Girolomo, who was eating at the time, put on his shoes and cloak and immediately went to his office, where Rodolfo, who’d already sat down stood and bowed.

Good evening; I wasn't expecting you until next week; you must have had good seas, then, Girolomo said, greeting the big man warmly and taking the package offered him by the Captain General.

Yes, milord, the weather has been unseasonably mild. Usually this time of year, you can expect one gale after another down the whole Adriatic. I’ve seen times, when it was not possible to get out of Negroponte for weeks, the Admiral replied, while the Bailo read through the documents.

I see we will be having a visitor to the City; a Giacomo Sforza and his wife, Rachel. I am instructed to see that he has everything needed to make his stay comfortable; I wonder if he is related to our Milanese cousin, Francesco.

He claims to be of no relation, Rodolfo volunteered and Girolomo put down the paper and replied, Then you know him? Perhaps you could tell me why I would be getting instructions to assist a common Venetian merchant; is he a relative of a Senator?

I’ve met him several times, always in the company of a rich merchant Benito Bertollucci, who I know very well and who seems to be his mentor. Bertollucci is no Senator but he is ambitious and seeks entry onto the Great Council. He seems to have the ear of the Doge and was the one, who got him to remove Sforza’s arrest warrant, Rodolfo said, enjoying the astonished look on the Bailo's face, as he continued, Oh yes; he was accused of murdering...a stupid, weak young fool, in a fight over a woman.

He murdered somebody? And the Doge removed his warrant! What kind of man is this? What sort of influence does he have?

I have heard that he’s very friendly and likable. He developed a reputation, as a courageous and able swordsman, when he was on the City Guard in Milan, was Rodolfo’s calm, response, which elicited a strange look from Minotto when the Captain General let the subject drop without elaboration.

Well, I will keep a close eye on him myself. Have you a place to stay? You're welcome to stay here.

Thank you, milord but I have a room already and someone waiting for me. If there is nothing further, I would like to get a bath before it gets late; I’m rather tired.

No, there’s nothing else; thank you. I’ll have replies ready for you by the day after tomorrow, Girolomo said, standing and shaking hands with the Captain.

***

The ship stopped twice to take on more food and water, once at Corfu and the second time at Chalcis on the island of Euboea or Negroponte, as the Venetians called it, before entering the Dardanelles, passing by the Gallipoli strait to the north and entering the Sea of Marmora.

The weather was warm and the skies clear with a firm westerly breeze, as they passed the Anatolian shores to the south and set an easterly course. Giacomo stood at the rail with his wife and watched with fascination, imagining what it must be like in the land of the Turk.

At mid- afternoon, seven days later a crewman shouted down from the crow's nest, that Constantinople, the great City, was coming into view.

Giacomo and Rachel glanced at each other and laughed like children: it was truly happening! Soon they would arrive in the Greatest City in the World, the City of Dreams; a place he’d always hoped to see, from the first time he’d heard the soldiers talk of its great walls, huge churches and broad streets.

I'd better get changed! she said scurrying past him like an eager child.

An hour later the pilot boat arrived and the harbor master took over steering the ship around the dangerous shoals of Acropolis Point and into the Golden Horn.

Rachel rushed back on deck to see the city for herself, with her hair put up under a lace scarf, wearing a deep blue silk dress heavily brocaded in lace stitching, white silk stockings and matching blue silk slippers that she’d bought in Venice just for this occasion.

While Giacomo put his arm around her waist, they stood at the rail together and waited for the ship to dock.

Antonio came and stood by them, as the crew threw lines to men on the pier.

Beautiful isn't it. Even now, as crestfallen and rundown as it is, I’m still awestruck by it every time, I come here. Imagine how wonderful it must have been years ago, when it was still great, the Sea Captain said, as the last lines were secured to the pier.

Well, my favorite part of the trip, he said, shaking his head with a cynical smile before going ashore to arrange for the custom inspectors to board and check his cargo.

Only after hearing his negative comments did Giacomo look more carefully and notice that indeed, it did look to be worn. Unlike Milan and Venice, which always appeared to be vibrant and exciting; the Great City definitely seemed like it had seen its best days.

The docks were generally empty and most desperately needed repair, while many of the buildings at the quay side were empty; missing all or part of their roofs and had windows and doors broken or missing. The image of such a great city being so run down suddenly left him feeling depressed.

Across the Golden Horn, the image of the Genoese City of Galata was just the opposite. Ships from all over were unloading or taking on new cargoes while all of the dock facilities and buildings looked well maintained and heavily used.

The walls of the City looked much more robust than those on this side of the Horn and there was an aura of growth and vitality there, which was totally lacking on the Greek side, with more people busily at work at Galata.

Several hours passed, as the Customs officials swarmed over the ship, checking the cargo and determining what must be paid, before permitting offloading. Finally, the ship’s watches (Sentries) were posted and Antonio gave last orders to those members of his crew, who were permitted to go ashore.

Meanwhile, a carriage stopped at the dock and the driver called up to the ship to determine, …if a Giacomo Sforza and his wife, were aboard and to tell them that he’d been sent to bring them to Girolomo Minotto’s home.

Yes, as a matter of fact they are in their cabin getting their things; they should be up shortly… the Captain shouted, just as, his passengers came back on deck and stepped to the gangplank.

Well, it’s been good meeting you, Antonio Rizzo said to them at the gangway, once they stepped onto the pier. I understand that you’ll be staying at the Bailo's home, so I’ll have your things brought there within the hour. Good luck to you both and have a pleasant stay here. Perhaps we'll meet again; when I have my own ship. Who knows; I might even get a contract for some of your business.

Yes, that would be very fine! Thank you so much for being so kind… May God be with you; I will pray for your success, Rachel said, offering her hand to the big man, who kissed it.

Giacomo then shook his hand and led his wife to the waiting coach.

***

The drive to the Bailo’s home was an eye opening experience. None of what Giacomo had ever heard about the great City was true at all, except that, it was large. Otherwise, it was a maze of dark, narrow, mostly dirty and run down looking streets.

Several times, the driver had to veer suddenly to avoid holes in the street, where the paving stones had come out and never been replaced. Lampposts had broken lanterns or they were missing altogether while most of the shops were dingy and uninviting.

Looking around, at the population as they rode on, it was apparent that they were not as well off, as the average Venetian either. There were beggars and homeless people standing around or in the shadows, who frankly gave him the chills, bringing back memories of his days, as a policeman in Milan. Thinking of his wife living in this place worried him and Rachel was surprised, when he seemed to clench her hand.

When they approached one intersection they were shocked to see the body of a young man hanging by the neck from a lamppost, with a sign around his neck, (Written in the Greek language) that apparently described his crime. The man's body, which was naked below the waist had apparently hung there for some time and was aswarm with flies and maggots and stunk badly although nobody seemed to notice, as they went about their daily chores.

Rachel gripped Giacomo's hand and looked at him with a look of real fright on her face; what had they gotten themselves into?

Finally the carriage passed through the gate of an ancient looking wall, guarded by two well-armed soldiers and the neighborhood changed completely.

The houses here were well kept; the tree lined streets were paved and lit by lamps...a complete opposite of what they’d passed. Shops lining the street appeared well stocked with several of the merchants just finishing their work and closing the large shutters that in some cases, served as tables for doing business. The homes were white washed and clean and there were decks on the second and even third floors where people were gathering to enjoy the coming evening. This was the Venetian quarter.

The carriage passed under a trellis overgrown with flowers of some sort and entered a large courtyard, before stopping. The gate was closed and barred while another servant stepped forward to open the small door on the side of their carriage and wait to assist Rachel, who carefully lifted her skirts and descended. After Giacomo stepped down, the Bailo and his wife came out of the building to greet them.

Welcome to Constantinople! I’m Girolomo Minotto, the Venetian Bailo and this is my wife Andrea, he said shaking Giacomo’s hand before bowing to kiss Rachel's.

She curtsied politely then stepped aside to greet the Bailo's wife by offering her hand but the woman didn’t take it and merely nodded.

It’s good to be here, Giacomo lied; not so sure of what he’d gotten them into anymore before handing the package of documents to the Bailo, who tucked it under his arm.

Well then, why don't we go inside? You both must be starved. I had a fine meal prepared, as soon as, Captain Rizzo’s message arrived saying you were here, Girolomo said, cordially leading them to his dining room which was decorated in the Greek style.

As they sat at the table, his servants poured wine into fine crystal glasses and the two men drank and appraised each other silently, while Rachel looked around at everything.

The Bailo's wife sat at the table sipping her wine and ignoring Rachel, as though she weren't there at all and it made her feel terribly uncomfortable. As cautiously, as possible, she tilted her head and lifted one shoulder and tried to discreetly sniff to see, if she smelled bad; she’d not been able to bathe per se, but had done her best to sponge herself clean every day from head to toe with fragrant Venetian soap and water. Perhaps the clothes smelled from being on board ship, she thought, but all she could smell was the fragrance of the rose water that she always sprinkled on herself after dressing, so that might not be the problem.

Her stockings and shoes were new and had never been worn and she’d even washed her feet and legs before putting them on so she was sure that was not a problem. No, she thought with some relief, it must be something else.

This is a beautiful home you have, she said to the woman, trying to break the ice but the woman only stared forward and replied, Yes, it is.

Finally, after several awkward minutes, the meal was served. Rachel made sure that her table manners were impeccable and twice kicked her husband under the table when she saw him being indelicate.

Do you like it in Constantinople? Rachel asked the woman but her only reply was a terse, No.

At that moment, she realized it was nothing that she’d done wrong; the woman just didn’t like her so from that point on, she ignored her and listened to the men’s conversation.

Well, what do you think of Constantinople so far? Girolomo asked with a wry smile.

I…have only just gotten here, milord…

You don’t have to play with words; I know exactly how you feel. I felt the same way myself, when I first got here. All of those stories about how beautiful the City of Dreams" is, the brightly lit wide streets, all paved with…gold? Just so much manure! Actually the section you came in isn’t the worst part of the city…on the other hand it’s not entirely typical either.

Constantinople is divided into sections or quarters. The Venetian quarter, where we are, is actually quite nice. Then there is a Genoese, a Catalan and even a Turkish quarter, which surprisingly is not too bad either.

It’s hard to imagine that four hundred years ago this city had a million people! he said and they stared blankly back at him. You don’t know how many people that is, do you?

They shook their heads so he continued:

Imagine one thousand people; like an army for instance. Now, imagine a thousand times that many people! There were homes, probably just like this, from the Golden Horn; where your ship came in, west to the Postern of Christ; which is miles to the west of here on the Sea of Marmora. Everything within the five miles of walls that cuts if off from the inland to Acropolis Point was filled with people. And even more luxurious homes stood outside the walls! There were factories that produced all manner of goods and they once held the western monopoly on silk!

Now, more than half of the city within the walls is woods or farmland. The most populated districts run along the southeast tip surrounding Santa Sofia, that big church you saw coming in and along the walls. It’s still large mind you; there are probably fifty or sixty thousand people here. Compare that to Paris or London or even Rome where there are barely twenty thousand souls, he said finishing his wine.

What happened; where did all the people go? Rachel asked.

I’m afraid it was our fault! In 1204, just two hundred and fifty years ago, Venetian ships carrying Crusaders bound for the Holy Land stayed here. There was a dispute about money…it's always about money…so Enrico Dandolo, the Venetian Doge, who’d accompanied them, convinced the Crusaders to betray the Greeks.

They, with the help of our galleys took the walls and sacked the City, stealing everything they could get their hands on…all in the name of God, of course, he said with a cynical smile.

You know the horses, outside of Saint Marks? They came from here. A lot of what we consider Venetian was stolen from here and all in the name of God! he repeated.

For the first time, Andrea spoke; shouting, Girolomo; watch your mouth; it’s blasphemous to speak that way!

Well, it’s true! The only crime that the people of this City had committed was that they were Eastern Catholics, who trusted us. They weren’t even Muslims but the Crusaders excused their excesses by calling the people of the City heretics!

"Because they are heretics; filthy barbaric heretics, who refuse to acknowledge Mother Church and the Pope! she shouted, defensively glaring at everyone, as though daring them to challenge her. Even now, after agreeing to unification with the True Church, they still renege on the promises made at the Council of Florence. It only shows that the word of a Greek is not to be believed and means nothing! I say, if the Turks want this place, they should have it and I'd be happy to greet them at the steps!"

There was a long awkward pause, as neither Rachel nor Giacomo dared say anything.

You’ll have to excuse my wife. She has an uncle, who is a Bishop in Rome but in either case, she doesn’t like the people of Constantinople, as I surmise you have already guessed.

This apology seemed to infuriate her more and she threw down her napkin, stood and left without another word, while Girolomo refilled his glass and tried to avoid laughing. After another moment of silence, he changed the subject.

You needn’t look for an apartment: when I received the message from the Doge that you were coming, I arranged for you to take over an empty apartment, which is just up the street from here. It hasn’t been lived in for some time so I have workmen cleaning and repairing it: it should be ready in a day or so. It belonged to another merchant, who’s gone to Alexandria and it’s quite nice, although I think the roof leaks.

Before Giacomo could thank him for his kindness, the Bailo's secretary brought news that their belongings had arrived from the ship and were being put into his office so they went downstairs to make sure everything was there.

Well it’s getting late; my secretary will show you to your rooms and my servants will make sure everything is brought up there. As for me, it’s been a very long day; if you will excuse me I should be off to bed. We shall talk more about the situation here, tomorrow.

***

Giacomo and Rachel followed the servants, who carried their belongings to their room, which was open and spacious, with a large bed at the center, soft, fine carpeting on the floor and lighted oil lamps on the two bedside tables.

After the servants left, Rachel kicked off her shoes, plopped onto the bed and began laughing, as she undid the strings that held her bodice in place.

Confused, he sat down beside her and asked, What are you laughing at?

"I don’t know; I guess, I was just thinking of how crazy that dinner was. Can you imagine what Bernadette or Julianne would have thought, if we had ever acted like that. I’ve never met anyone, who was, as full of herself, as she is.

"‘They are heretics!’" she mimicked and he laughed.

One can only imagine how she must feel about us; how is the bed? he asked pulling off his boots.

(She’d already taken off all of her clothes, blown out the oil lamp on her table and crawled under the blankets.)

Come in and see for yourself, she replied, flirtatiously brushing her foot against the back of his hips from under the blankets.

He hurried undressing then slid under the covers beside her and she wrapped her leg around his, reached down and put her hand between his legs then said, Welcome to Constantinople.

***

The next morning Girolomo was sipping his tea and reading through the papers that he’d been given the night before when Giacomo joined him for breakfast.

Why were you sent to Constantinople? the Bailo asked abruptly, as Giacomo broke the shell of the boiled egg, he’d just been served.

Why, I’m to set up an office here, to buy and deliver cargoes back to Venice for my employer, Benito Bertollucci.

"That’s what they told you, eh? According to what I have, you are to keep the Doge informed about what is going on here. Why would he have you doing that? I send back information already; are you spying on me?"

Giacomo, who almost choked on his egg replied, No! I wasn’t sent to spy on anyone. What I was told is that because you are directly connected to the Republic, you cannot get the same information that I, as a merchant, can. So I am to use our business contacts to find out what is happening, particularly within the Imperial court and share it with you while sending that information to my employer, who will then inform the Doge.

"…to the Doge through your employer and not through me… Mmm. Very well then, but I will tell you this. You had better not hold back any information from me. What you report to Venice through your employer, you had better report to me…first. This place is about to explode and I need to know what’s going on. I don’t need somebody like you getting in the way or working behind my back, especially someone, who can’t be trusted."

Giacomo bristled at the last statement and challenged, Can’t be trusted; what makes you think that I can’t be trusted?

C’mon; what is Francesco Sforza, your uncle or a distant cousin? You did fight for him didn’t you? …And what about the murder charges that your employer got quashed? Let’s put this all on the table; I want to know, who I’m dealing with, he said in a challenging tone that made Giacomo angry enough to stand and lean over the table, as the man stared him back in the eyes.

First, I am not of any relation to the Duke of Milan; his grandfather and mine were only half-brothers.

"Second, I did fight for Francesco and I will tell you he is a brave, honorable and capable general, but I fought for pay and if you will recall; the Republic was also supporting him at one time. I later served in the Night Watch at Milan; again for pay. I did my job honorably with no questions asked; as any good soldier would do. At no time, did I ever fight against the Republic. You were a soldier yourself; so don't try to say you don't know what I’m talking about!"

As for the murder charges; I was accused of killing Donato dal Montenero. He and his cowardly brother Lorenzo along with a Wallachian devil, named Vasile Basarab, were trying to rape my future wife when I stepped in to stop them. There was a fight; three of them against me... Donato was wounded and later died. That is hardly murder! Now, if you have anything more to say about my honor or my ability to be trusted then we can go outside and deal with this, man to man!

Giacomo never let his eyes leave the Bailo's, who glared back at him for several minutes.

Rachel, who’d overheard the whole thing from the doorway, was shaking with fear. She’d never seen Giacomo lose his temper this way before and was genuinely concerned he might attack the Bailo, which she knew, would only get them into deep trouble and certainly was no way to start things off.

After several tense minutes, Girolomo broke into a smile and leaned back in his chair.

I think I can believe you; I just needed to know; sit, he said seeing that the young man was still upset. Integrity was obviously, something that he took seriously; that was good and he was certainly, no coward.

I withdraw what I said about trusting you. You are obviously a man of honor and most such men are worthy of trust. Now please…sit.

Slowly and without taking his eyes off the Bailo, Giacomo sat back down then replied, I’m sorry I lost my temper, milord but nobody has ever questioned my integrity.

I can see why. You'll have to tell me more about Donato and the attempted rape sometime. You stood up against three men and saved the woman that you married, eh? That sounds like a story worth telling, too, Girolomo said, pouring himself and Giacomo a cup of tea.

It was a heroic story, worthy of a true story teller! Rachel said, interrupting them, as she came into the room and sat down beside Giacomo.

But…this wouldn’t be the time to tell it, she added, smiling at her host.

Girolomo looked across the table at her, feeling embarrassed and was taken aback. She’d put up her hair and was wearing earrings and a matching necklace. It was apparent that she had not painted her face with what women sometimes called make up, yet her lips were the color of roses and her soft smooth skin seemed to glow. The dark pink, silken dress she was wearing, contrasted with the whiteness of her shoulders and redness of her hair in a way that took his breath away; reminding him of how beautiful his own Andrea had been, when he’d first seen her. If only, she hadn’t become so bitter.

Good morning Signora. I hope you had a good night's rest.

Oh yes, the bed was very nice and it was a relief, not hearing men walking outside the door all night, for a change, she said, as a dark skinned servant girl set a cup and a dish of pastries in front of her.

Andrea, who’d stopped at the door, glared at her husband, for looking at Rachel that way. He used to look at her that way once, she thought; now he hardly even glanced at her, at all. She stepped into the room and quietly sat at the table opposite Rachel and beside her husband, followed closely by the dark skinned girl, who set her breakfast in front of her.

Your servants are very attentive but they don't say much, Rachel said, trying to be polite.

Of course not; they're slaves; slaves must never presume to speak unless spoken to.

Rachel looked at the slender young girl, who’d been serving them and suddenly felt embarrassed. She’d seen slaves at the markets in Venice; many of the richest families had them but she’d never met any personally and being a free spirit herself, she considered having one's freedom taken away, to be the worst thing that might befall any human. To be sitting next to someone, who didn’t have the mere right to even speak made her feel terribly uncomfortable…and depressed.

The slave girl saw her discomfort and looked away, as though she’d been hurt somehow.

Once you get your own apartment, you will have to get your own slaves to do the cooking and cleaning and so forth, Andrea added nonchalantly, as she sipped her tea.

Speaking of the apartment…, Girolomo interrupted, …After you have finished your breakfast, we can go see it. I’m told that it should be ready soon, though you will have to purchase furniture and as my wife has said you’ll want some slaves. Andrea can help you with the furniture… (His wife glared at him), ...while I can show you where to get the best slaves in the City.

That would be very good, Giacomo said, noting the uncomfortable look in his wife's eyes.

I also forgot to mention that, tomorrow, I’ll be visiting with the Emperor and his Chancellor, George Phrantzes actually; I think it would be good for you to join me. Being on good terms with the Emperor is a very good thing for a merchant such as, yourself; especially considering, what we talked about earlier.

A few minutes of casual conversation followed before Giacomo and Rachel finished breakfast and left to go change.

Andrea watched her pad off and scoffed: Imagine; walking around barefoot like some kind of peasant!

Girolomo smirked at her comment; his wife wouldn’t permit herself to be seen dead without being properly dressed from head to toe, he thought; if she could manage it, she would even bathe fully clothed.

***

Although the apartment was just a short walk from the Bailo's house, they took a carriage to go there. This was only the second residence that Rachel had ever had so she was especially happy to see it, particularly in view of how the Bailo's wife had been treating her; she was eager to be in her own home...soon.

It was actually, a whole house, not just an apartment like she’d had in Milan! The walls were gleaming white in freshly applied stucco and white wash, the newly repaired roof was bright orange terra cotta and the whole was trimmed around the windows and under the eaves in golden amber color.

The tall arched windows were of real glass, set into decorated wood frames that opened outward to let in fresh air and the south and western walls of the building were covered in ivy. Although there was a front door, it was kept locked so entrance was through a large gate that entered an enclosed courtyard at the side of the building, just like at the Bailo’s.

The courtyard was surrounded by a tall stucco covered wall overgrown with ivy, with shards of pottery and glass imbedded at the top to protect against intruders. It was beautiful, she thought, though she just couldn't believe that it was going to be her home.

They stopped in the front of the house and Girolomo guided them inside while Andrea waited in the carriage, (Having refused to leave).

Once they went inside, Rachel stopped, took in a deep breath and gazed around in utter awe.

As beautiful as, the outside was, the interior was even more elaborate. Polished brass oil lamps hung from every ceiling and there was a fireplace with a marble mantle, in each room. The walls were the same stucco, as the outside, decorated with filigreed woodwork at the base of the floors, which were mosaic tiles in the Greek style, laid down so that there was a different pattern or picture in each room.

She gleefully went from room to room planning in her mind what she wanted to buy for furniture and decorations while Giacomo stood and watched with amused satisfaction, delighted to see her so happy.

On the third floor, doors opened to the outside from the master bedroom onto a deck built on the roof, which was covered by an awning, with a protective railing surrounding it. From here a person might sit and enjoy the view looking south towards the great church of Santa Sofia and the Sea of Marmora beyond.

For almost an hour, they looked into each room over and over again, until Andrea, who had finally had enough, came inside and shouted for them to hurry.

Oops, I guess I lost track of the time. I'm sorry, Rachel apologized and happily led Giacomo by the hand back downstairs to the main floor where Andrea and Girolomo were having words once again. Just as they got to the door, Andrea said something, stomped her foot and stalked off, towards their own home just a short walk away.

I'm sorry we made her angry; I didn't mean to cause trouble. It's just that I never imagined having such a nice place as this for myself, Rachel said, watching the woman stalk away.

That's all right; she's just an insufferable bit…well… Perhaps you'd like to see where furniture can be bought, he said, helping her back into the carriage.

They left the Venetian quarter through another gate and rode for about twenty minutes along, what looked like a country road, past farms and orchards so that it was hard to imagine they were still inside the city walls, until they passed through an ancient gate and arrived at the factory quarter of the city. Here there were shops and mills, which made all kinds of different things from wagons to furniture.

They stopped in front of a furniture shop first and Girolomo led them inside to talk to the owner. For over an hour, they walked around looking at chairs, tables, couches and other kinds of furniture, from, which Rachel picked what she wanted for their new home. A price was agreed upon and delivery was set for two days later.

At other shops; they bought carpets, bed linen, dishes and utensils and all of the other sundry items necessary to begin housekeeping. It was late afternoon and getting dark, when they finally got back to the Girolomo’s home; tired, foot sore and happy.

After changing, they returned to the dinner table, where the servants had set out a sumptuous spread of lamb and vegetables. Wine was served first, while they all waited for Andrea to come downstairs.

Without any apology or excuse, she staggered into the room, sat down and took a sip of her wine while more food was brought and it was apparent, that this was not her first drink.

Again Rachel paid especial attention to hers and Giacomo's table manners, not wanting to irritate the woman any more than she seemed to be.

I am sorry for keeping you waiting so long this afternoon; it was rude of me. Surely you must understand how excited I was…but like I said, it was inexcusable so, I apologize.

"It was very rude of you but nothing that I wouldn’t expect," Andrea replied tersely and her husband put down his glass and glared at her.

Andrea! Rachel is trying to apologize; that isn't very nice!

She looked at him for a moment before turning to Rachel and in slurred speech said, "Excuse me; my husband thinks I am being rude to you. I would have thought someone of your station couldn’t be offended but my husband is worried that you might be. Of course, looking at you, one would understand why he might be worried about your feelings."

Andrea! Girolomo shouted; banging the table.

Tears came to Rachel's eyes. She had tried very hard to be nice and didn’t understand why this woman was being so offensive but the words, "your station", angered her most.

Signora Minotto, I don't understand why you don't like me, but I am sorry that you feel the way you do. I’ve tried to be…pleasant and I have apologized for my rudeness.

I never said I didn’t like you, my dear; it's just that I'm not used to having to deal with your kind…on an equal basis that is, Andrea retorted with an evil grin.

This remark caused everyone to stiffen and Giacomo saw that his wife was furious. Her face was red; veins were showing in her temples, the pupils in her eyes had narrowed and she was clenching her teeth. He looked at Girolomo for help but the man was obviously upset himself and probably wouldn't be able to assist.

Perhaps we should… Giacomo interrupted but Rachel kicked him under the table and he winced and took the hint to be quiet.

What do you mean; 'my kind'? Rachel challenged and Giacomo braced himself to grab her, if she should attack.

"You are after all, a peasant girl; I doubt you even know who your father was. You can be washed with fragrant Venetian soap and dressed in fine silk but you’re still basically a dirty barefoot peasant girl!" Andrea replied and Girolomo put his hand over his eyes; waiting for Rachel to attack his wife.

Rachel’s first reaction was to ball her fists and if it weren't for the fact that this woman was the wife of the most important Venetian in Constantinople, she might have attacked her. Instead, she looked across the table and seeing the ‘please don’t hit her’ look in Giacomo’s eyes, calmed herself, while the haughty woman glared back at her, as if, challenging her to attack. So she turned to Andrea, carefully picked her words and began:

Yes, it is true that I am but a peasant girl, but I knew my father well; much too well. His name was Roberto Grimaldi and he was a poor shoemaker, who was too poor or more likely; too drunk, to feed us, or so he said. He’d rent me to other men for money until one day, I knocked him in the head and ran away.

At this Andrea looked shocked and backed away but Rachel closed the distance and continued:

After that I lived in a monastery, where I was taught to read…can you read? I doubt it; I can speak; read and write fluently in four languages and make my way through two other languages, as well. I’ve read books…lots of books: books on science; astrology; geography and mathematics…stories by Plato; Socrates; Aristotle; Homer and Aesop. I’ve read histories by Thucydides, Herodotus and Caesar and even military treatises by Vegetius and Aelian. Later, I joined a Gypsy camp, where I learned to sing, dance and play the lute. And I’ve traveled and seen things and places that you can only imagine!

"I may not be a noble woman, like you, but I have more nobility in my soul than you will ever have, because to begin with, I do have a soul, as well as, a heart and the spirit to love, which is something I doubt you have. I really feel sorry for your poor husband because he’ll never know the love from you, like what I have given to my husband!"

"Now if you will excuse me, I have to leave because I am feeling ill at having to be around your kind!"

She turned to Girolomo, who was sitting and listening, awestruck at how lucid and constrained she’d been then finished, I am sorry, if I said anything that offended you, Signor Minotto…I apologize for losing my temper.

Then she stepped in front of Andrea, who was too shocked to move, lifted her skirts and said, You see I am barefoot now too. I like being barefoot, because it makes me feel free. You should try it sometime; maybe it would loosen your tight ass to feel free once in a while.

By now her eyes were filled with tears so she rushed upstairs to their room, closed the door behind her and threw herself on the bed, where she cried.

Her tears came not only from anger but from the realization that no matter how hard she did try, she would be seen just as Andrea had said; as a ‘dirty barefoot peasant girl’! That thought hurt her most because she felt; as though she were somehow letting her husband down.

There was a long silence at the table, as Giacomo stared at his drink, feeling pride at how well she’d dressed down this bitch but alternately worrying about how Girolomo would react.

Surprisingly, he said nothing and tried to keep from breaking into laughter while Andrea fought to regain her speech.

Are you going to just sit there and let that common street trollop insult me that way? she finally blurted out at her husband.

That statement angered Giacomo, just as her first insult had, so he put his napkin on the table and stood.

Signor Minotto, I apologize… for what this acrimony must be doing to you. If it’s all right with you, my wife and I will leave and move into the apartment in the morning. Thank you for all that you’ve done for us. Good evening.

Avoiding eye contact with the woman, he left.

Walking past the dark skinned slave girl, who’d been serving them, he noticed that she had a satisfied smile on her face so he winked at her, as he passed and went to their room.

Girolomo leaned back into his chair and took a drink of wine then said, She was right you know. You have no heart or soul…not anymore. As a soldier, I can tell you that you should never attack anyone unless you are sure that you can defend yourself against them. In a battle of wits with her, you are obviously defenseless my dear…

As she’d done the night before, Andrea stood with a huff, threw down her napkin and glared down at her husband before she scornfully shouted, Had I known just what kind of man you were, I would not have married you!

Well then that says it all; it’s my own fault for not revealing, ‘what kind of man’ I was to you, before we were married.

His wife stiffened and left; nearly pushing over the slave girl on her way to her room.

Girolomo motioned to the girl, to come and fill his glass and smiled, when he noted her effort to avoid laughing.

***

Rachel was still lying on the bed gripping her pillow and staring out the window when Giacomo came into the room, lay down beside her on the bed and looked into her eyes.

I’m sorry, she said and started crying again.

"Sorry? She insulted you and you cut her down; not by beating her up but