Shadow of God (38 page)

Renato dropped the placenta into a bucket, and began to massage Melina’s lower abdomen. He could feel the muscles of the womb begin to contract under his fingers, and he called to the midwife. “Here, keep massaging until the bleeding has stopped.” Then he turned to Jean, Melina, and the girls and put his hands on the babies’ heads. “You are very blessed, Jean and Melina. Two lovely little girls. I wish you all great joy.”

“I don’t know how to thank you Doctor. What you have done for us…” Jean began to weep again.

Renato put his arms around the big knight and hugged him. “This is what I do, Jean. This is my work. And, by the way, I have offended the Law once again.”

“How?”

“Well, we are not supposed to interfere with the position that ‘Providence’ has decreed for the baby. These imbeciles quote the Bible to us: Genesis 3:16. ‘In sorrow thou shalt bring children.’ They take it to mean that the women must suffer, and that babies shall die while we stand idly by doing nothing. But, I tell you that God did not give me the brains and the hands to do such work, and then expect me to stand aside when I might help. If that were the case,
then why would He have given the world doctors at all? We are here to intercede, to help our fellow man…and woman. God bless you, Jean. Stay with Melina as long as she needs you. There are many knights who can take your place this night.
Adieu.”

He turned and left the room. Both Jean and Melina shuddered at the reality that their moment of joy would soon be replaced by the realities of the terrible conflict.

Philippe, Thomas Docwra, John Buck, Antonio Bosio, and Gabriel de Pommerols were gathered around the large oak table in the meeting room of the Palace. The bombardment had continued all day. None of the cannonballs had reached the Palace. The windows were still heavily boarded and the air was heavy and hot. Dust stirred up by the blasts drifted in through cracks in the doors and the men had a hard time suppressing their coughs. The five were engrossed in the battle plans, and were marking the drawings of the fortifications to delineate the weak points that needed repair. From time to time, a messenger came in to bring them up to date on new damage and repairs.

Just before dark, as the servants were clearing away some of the meal that the knights had eaten during their war council, a messenger came running into the room. It was one of the knights from the
langue
of Italy.

“
Scusi, Signores,”
he said catching his breath. “The fishermen have returned with their catch.”

Philippe looked up at the knight standing in the doorway. “Their catch? What fishermen?”

The young knight stepped aside, and in marched Basilios with his three mates. Philippe rose from his seat and gasped. “God Almighty!”

Basilios smiled, and held aloft the scimitar upon which he had impaled the severed head of the Janissary. Behind him came Marcantonio, Nicolo, and Petros, dragging along the two others. The prisoners were bound at the elbows with their hands behind them. Their legs were hobbled with heavy ropes, which allowed only small, mincing steps. Both were gagged with filthy rags used to clean the
fishing boat, and their uniforms were ragged and wet with salt and sand. They reeked of dead fish, and all wore identical caps of crusted blood, where they had been struck over the head. One of the young men seemed unable to focus his eyes and staggered as he walked. It was only because Marcantonio supported him that the he did not fall to the ground in his stupor.

“What have we here?” Philippe said, now smiling. “You have had a successful fishing trip,
Monsieur
Basilios?” He walked around the table and looked at the beaten bodies of the Janissaries. “I hope they are well enough to talk to us.”

“They only just awoke,
Signore.
I think your inquisitors will have better luck with them than we could.”

“Yes, I should imagine so. Antonio, have these men taken away, and see what they have to tell us. Waste no time, though. If they are unwilling to answer all our questions, put them right to the rack. They’ll talk soon enough, and we have no time for foolishness.
Allez!
” Bosio and the three fishermen left the room dragging the prisoners behind them.

Then Philippe turned to Basilios and said, “And what did
you
learn, my friend?”

“I overheard a few of the soldiers talking, my Lord,” Basilios said. “There were only a few conversations about the battle and the troops. I could not learn a great deal, which is why I thought to bring you these men instead. But, what I did hear may be of some help. The morale among the Turks is very bad. The cavalry can see that they will be of little use here. They are angry that they will not be able to fight. The Janissaries are worried that there will be a long battle; many months, and perhaps into winter. It is clear that they cannot just walk into this city and kill us. So, they are brooding, too. They like fast campaigns. In and out. Home to their Istanbul with gold in their pockets. They see that there is little here to plunder anyway. So they grumble in their drinks, and brood.”

“Excellent. Any more?”

“Not really. The Aghas are disappointed in the effects of their artillery. There was talk in some units of mutiny. But, others dismissed that. The Sultan would waste no time with mutineers. They would be
killed on the spot, and others sent to replace them. But, of numbers and strength I learned nothing. Nor of tactic aside from the obvious bombardment and siege. I am sorry, my Lord.”

Philippe walked around the table and placed a hand on Basilios’ shoulder. “You have nothing for which to be sorry, my friend. You have done well. Even better than we hoped for. These young Janissaries will be talking in a few minutes. They are trained to fight and die for their Sultan. But, they have not been trained to lie upon the rack while their body is slowly torn apart. They will all talk to us. In good time. Thank you for your service. Get you and your men some food and drink, and some rest. You have done well.”

“Gentlemen,” Philippe said, turning to his knights, “we have fished some treasure here today. Basilios has done very well, indeed.” The fishermen left.

The four knights returned to the drawings of the fortress to resume their work. And the bombardment continued.

Jean stood with his men on the wall near the Palace of the Grand Master. They looked north and could see the camp of Bali Agha and his Janissaries come into being. The white tents seemed to grow like mushrooms in a forest, but in perfect order and alignment. The encampment was just out of range of the guns, but Jean could see the figures moving about and preparing for battle. He knew that soon he would be locked in hand-to-hand combat with the men moving in the fields beneath him.

But, his mind would not stay focused on the fight. He kept thinking of Melina and the twins.
I should have taken them to the hospital before I left. Renato would have seen to them. That little house is no protection. The hospital has thick walls, and is surrounded by other buildings as well. They would be safer there than in the house. Damned! Why didn’t I move them?”

He forced his thoughts back to his men and began to try to discern what strategy the Turks were setting up. So far, there had only been the incessant cannonade. Though the barrage had been relentless, at the close of the first day remarkably little real damage had been done to the knights’ fortress. Moreover, the deadly accuracy of
the knights’ own batteries had decimated the Sultan’s cannons. Though the cannons did not fire exploding missiles, the sheer weight and mass of the stones did incredible damage. In the first days of the siege, the Turks would lose nearly half of their large cannons and many hundreds of skilled artillerymen. The Turkish batteries were completely exposed to fire from the fortress. The knights were well protected by their thick walls. The gun ports were splayed to allow for a wide field of fire without losing their protective cover.

Not all the knights were as sanguine as Jean. For many of the younger ones, this was their first time under fire. Their training, with its emphasis on swordsmanship and horseback riding, did not prepare them for the terror that filled them as they waited for the next monster stone to descend from the sky. Many of the lads were crouched beneath the walls, and huddled together for comfort. Some even whimpered and quaked, oblivious of the scorn of their brother knights.

Jean saw three of his younger knights huddling beneath the St. Paul’s Gate. He turned to one of the Servants-at-Arms and said, “Get those men up here! Spread them out. Don’t they know that clustering together only means that all three could be killed with a single shot?”

Jean was trying to decide whether he should go back now and move Melina and the babies to the hospital. Just as he was turning to leave, he saw Gabriele Tadini, their master miner, climb up onto the battlements. “Gabriele,” he shouted, “over here!”

Tadini turned. When he saw Jean, he waved and walked toward him.

“
Bonjour
, Jean,” he said. “We are off to an excellent start, are we not?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by excellent, Gabriele. We are taking a great deal of cannon fire, and there seems to be no letup in the barrage.”

“Yes, yes. But, they’re doing very little damage, really. Most of their balls are being eaten by the walls, and the few that landed within the city have done very little harm to the buildings and to the people. And, for our part, we have done well. Why, my batteries have destroyed at least twenty-five cannons. The accuracy of the batteries
means that we have destroyed their weapons with very little expenditure of our own powder and shot. Oh, yes, have you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“The Janissaries. The ones the fisherman captured. One of them had little stomach for the rack. He told the inquisitor a great deal. Most important,” he explained, “is the earthworks that we see across from Aragon. It will be a massive ramp, to bring in cannon. They plan to make it higher than the walls, and fire down into the city.”

“But, how? That would be totally exposed to our fire. They could never complete it.”

“I think they could, my friend. The Sultan doesn’t care how many lives it takes. Once he has a battery above our walls, he could decimate us with his field of fire.”

“And the Grand Master knows of this?”

“
Bien entendu.
It was he who told me.”

“What will he do about it?”

“He considers this the greatest threat to the city at the moment. He is sending a large force of knights to continuously harass the workers. Sorties. Cannon. Muskets. Even arrows. You see, when
we
build trenches to attack a fortress, we zigzag the approach to protect the miners and the sappers from fire coming from the walls. But, see? They dig straight trenches directly at us. It’s quicker, but the loss of lives from our fire will be massive. We’ll just keep pouring it into them, even if only to slow them down.”

“I see your point, Gabriele. But, I can’t stop thinking of Melina and the twins. As soon as possible, I want go back and move her to the hospital.”

“Good idea. But first, come with me. I want to show you something. Then you can bring your family to safety. It’s on the way.”

Jean and Tadini walked along the perimeter of the walls. They skirted the Palace of the Grand Master and walked past the Post of Germany and the Post of Auvergne. From there they walked south past Aragon to the Post of England. They stood together in front of St. Anthony’s Gate and looked out toward the encampment of Qasim Pasha.

“Look there,” said Tadini, pointing to the south. “The Turks have begun to dig their trenches toward the walls. They are too far out for fire from our
arquebuses,
and a little too close for our cannons. But, soon they will be in range, and we will be able to open fire from the walls and the towers.”

“They’ll be slaughtered. There’s no protection at all down there.”

“Quite right,” Tadini said, “It’s just as I told you. They are fooled by the fact that they have not yet come under fire from the walls, so they’re digging straight trenches that offer no protection. It will bring them in faster than digging a zigzag pattern, but by nightfall, or early tomorrow, they’ll be close enough for us to fire on them. We’ll fill the ditches with their bodies.”