Shadow of God (56 page)

While he sucked at her breasts, Melina lifted her own skirts above her waist and then with some difficulty began to undo Jean’s belt. She slipped her hands down into his trousers and smiled to find him hard and ready for her. She pulled his head gently from her breasts and kissed him long and deeply, tasting his familiar breath and the sweetness of her own milk. Then, she drew him toward her and guided him gently inside herself. All she could think of was the day they had made love in the river at Petaloudes, with her little angels already growing inside her womb. Now she held Jean so tightly to her that he could barely breath. As she came to her climax, he could feel the tears pouring from her and feel her sobbing against his chest.

Jean could find nothing to say to calm her, and he didn’t try. He held her tight, and placed his face into her hair. They grew quiet, and fell asleep for a few moments while still locked together.

Then, they awoke together, and with great reluctance pulled apart. How they longed for those days when they could fall asleep in each other’s embrace and never move again till the morning light interrupted their sleep.

Jean redid his trousers and began to assemble his armor and weapons. He grew serious again, and said, “I’ve searched all over for the Doctor. I’m worried, Melina, that something has happened to him. Has he returned while I was out?”

“No, he hasn’t. I’ll ask Hélène, but I’ve been in the ward all night, and only just came back to feed the girls. What could have happened?”

“I don’t know, but I’m afraid he is ill and may be lying about the streets with the other bodies; perhaps, in need of help.”

“What will you do, Jean?”

“I’ll go to the Grand Master and ask for a party of knights to search for him. He may well need us, and by Jesus, we have need of him.” Jean hurried from the room without another word. Melina finished dressing, and after tucking in the babies, returned to her work.

Philippe waited for the prisoner to begin. Finally, the man raised his head and stared again at Philippe. The blood had crusted now, and was no longer running from his nose. His left eye was completely swollen shut, the skin purple and tight. He was breathing through his mouth. He took a long breath and let out a longer sigh. And then he began to recite:

To Piri Pasha, Grand Vizier: conditions in the city are deteriorating. There is little food, and drinking water is scarce. The knights cannot hold on much longer. I have heard from your spies that there has been talk of your giving up the battle and returning to Istanbul. This would be a mistake. The garrison cannot be held much longer.

“And?”

“And nothing, my Lord. Nothing more.”

Philippe exploded. He jumped to his feet and hurled his pewter water flask at the prisoner’s head. It glanced off the side of his temple, opening another wound, so that the blood now flowed down into the prisoner’s ear. The two men glared at each other in strained silence, when suddenly the door burst open and the knights rushed in at the sound of the flask crashing to the stone floor. Immediately
behind them came Jean de Morelle, short of breath and sweating. “What has happened…
Mon Dieu!
What are
you
doing here? I have been searching everywhere for you.”

Doctor Renato turned and looked at Jean through his one functioning eye. Only then did Jean see the thongs binding the prisoner’s hands and the injuries to his face. He started forward, but stopped at once. Turning to Philippe, he said, “What…what’s happened? Why is the Doctor…what is it?”

“Look at him well, Jean. This man you trusted—
we
trusted—has betrayed us to the Muslims.”

John Buck and Thomas Docwra rushed into the room together, almost immediately followed by Gabriele Tadini. Then came Andrea d’Amaral and his servant, Blasco Diaz. Finally, Thomas Scheffield entered the room. All the knights stared in disbelief at the scene. Renato turned his head toward the knights, and then lowered his gaze to the floor. He could not look into the eyes of the men he had betrayed. These friends of so many years would now decide his fate, and there was little doubt as to what their decision would be.

Philippe motioned the knights to the table. Slowly the men moved to their seats, never taking their eyes off Renato. When everyone was seated, Philippe held up the paper and the arrow, and said, “Our guards found Doctor Renato on the walls near the Tower of Italy. He was about to shoot this letter into the camp of Piri Pasha with his crossbow.”

The knights murmured to one another, but their eyes never left Renato. Philippe continued. “Though I have not had time to authenticate it’s meaning, the doctor tells me that he has written to the Sultan of our condition. He told the Sultan that we are failing, and that he should intensify his war against us. That we cannot hold out much longer.”

Thomas Docwra broke in, “My Lord, I read a bit of Turkish. Let me see the paper. Perhaps I can verify what he says.”

Philippe handed the paper to Docwra who read it silently. Then, Docwra said, “Yes, my Lord. That is the essence of the letter.”

Philippe said, “I don’t doubt that he is telling the truth now. He has nothing to gain by lying at this point. However, I want to know,
as I am sure do all of you, why this man, once our friend and ally, our dedicated doctor, at times our savior, has betrayed us. He will tell us now, here. Or, he will tell us on the rack. One way or another, he will talk.”

The room was silent. Renato’s head hung down, his chin almost touching his chest. Minutes went by, but Philippe said nothing. Then, barely raising his head and without looking at his captors, Renato began to speak. His voice was low, trembling, his words barely audible.

“Speak up, damn you!” Philippe shouted. He was furious and heartbroken.

Renato jumped in his seat. So did the knights at Philippe’s table. Then he straightened up and looked directly into the eyes of the Grand Master. He cleared his throat and began again. All eyes were on his. Renato told his story in simple, unemotional words. His voice was even and clear. Once he began, he went on uninterrupted until he was finished. He answered all their unasked questions.

“I was born the son of a Jewish doctor in Spain. We were driven out during your Inquisition. All my family and friends were killed except for me. I escaped to Portugal. Then, your church forced the Portuguese king to expel us as well. We went to North Africa, and then to Istanbul. The Christians of Europe drove us all from our homes. Nobody there wanted any Jews left to soil their land. Only the Ottoman Sultans would take us in. The Muslim laws protected us as
dhimmis
, People of the Book, those who have received the scriptures from God. The same book that God gave to the Christians. The same words given to Islam. I lived with other Jews in the city. I had been trained by my father, and I continued my study in the Jewish Quarter in Istanbul. I became a doctor, and practiced my profession in Istanbul for several years.”

Renato looked around at the silent knights, and then Philippe. There was no reaction. He continued, “One day I was summoned to the Palace, the residence of the Sultan, Selim
.
There were many Jewish physicians in attendance at the palace. I thought I was needed to minister to someone in the Sultan’s household. Instead, I was taken to the Sultan, himself. No one else. Except for the guards at the door,
we were alone. I was told that this meeting was a secret, and that if I betrayed my secret, I would be put to death. I believed him. Selim told me that he was preparing to take back Rhodes. That he wished to drive the Christian Knights of St. John from his Empire. He said you were pirates, and that you had, for centuries, slaughtered innocent Muslims all over his Empire; that until you were gone from the face of the Earth, there would be no safety for the Muslims. He told me how he had given the Christians and Jews a safe place to worship and to live in peace, as prescribed by the
Qur’an
. That you Christians abused your privileges and killed the Muslims at every opportunity. That you took Muslim slaves and slaughtered his people. I already knew what you had done to
my
people.”

Renato’s voice was failing. His throat was dry, and the words began to come with more difficulty. Philippe and his knights sat and listened impassively.

“He told me that he wanted me to perform a service to the Empire. That I was to convert to Christianity and make my way to Rhodes. That I was to apply for a position in the hospital, and serve the knights and the people of Rhodes as a doctor, and be a loyal citizen. But, all the while, I was to send information on a regular basis about the conditions and the repairs to the fortress. This I did. Each month, a messenger would come to the hospital and seek medical help. It was usually a different person, but the medical complaint was always the same. This is how I knew the man was from the Sultan. I would tell him my news, never putting anything in writing. Selim warned me of the danger, and he said I could minimize it as long as I identified the messenger carefully and never committed anything to paper.

“And this I did for eight years. Until June, when I could no longer send information out of the Fortress. Instead, I would fire the messages into the Turkish camp with my crossbow. It was I who told the Turks to stop their mortar fire into the city—that it was ineffectual. Many times, our guards…
your
guards…nearly caught me. Tonight they did. That is all there is to tell you.”

Silence. Finally, Philippe asked quietly and slowly, “And did your treachery extend to my wounded knights as well? Did they die in your care, when they might have lived?”

Renato jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair. “
Jamais! Jamais!
” Never! He staggered and fell to his knees. “I treated every human being the same way. Muslim, Jew, Christian. It means nothing to me. I pray to ‘Yahweh.’ You call Him, ‘God.’ The Muslim calls Him ‘Allah.’ We all pray to the same God. We share some of the same prophets. We follow the same rules of conduct. You and I follow the Ten Commandments. The very
same
Commandments of the very
same
God! The Muslim follows the precepts of the
Qur’an
, and they are much the same as the Commandments. Yet, we kill each other. Over what? A few words. A nuance?”

Tadini stepped forward and replaced the toppled chair. He placed a hand gently on Renato’s shoulder and helped him to his feet. Renato slumped back into his chair and continued. “No, my Lord. A traitor I may be. Sometimes I am a spy. But, I am
always
a doctor, and my oath in that regard has never been violated. Never!”

The knights continued to stare at Renato. His words stung them and chastised them. Jean, in particular, had been agonizing over the role of the knights on Rhodes. He had talked for long hours with Melina over the awful subject of the slaves and the piracy. Still, no one spoke.

Finally, Renato finished by saying, “You have known me these eight years. I have been as true to my post as any knight to his. But, just as Selim and his son, Suleiman, I was convinced that the interest of peace in this empire would be best served by your departure from these waters. I have no regrets for what I have done. In the long run, I think that more lives could be saved by your early surrender than by my loyalty to the Order.” Renato looked directly into Philippe’s eyes. “I have nothing more to say.”

Philippe turned to his knights and said, “Gentlemen, we do not have time for a formal tribunal, nor would it serve any purpose. I will make this decision as Grand Master of the Order. If there are any objections, let them be known before we leave this room.” He stood and faced Renato. “The prisoner will stand.” Helped by Jean, Renato struggled to his feet once more, and looked directly into Philippe’s eyes.

“You have admitted to the crime of treason. There is no mitigation in this regard. You have betrayed your brothers-at-arms. For that crime, you will suffer the usual consequences. Tomorrow at dawn, you will be hanged, drawn, and quartered. Your body will not be buried in consecrated ground. Instead, your remains will be placed into the catapult and thrown into the camp of the Muslims. They will see what is the fate of traitors and spies. And they can do with you what they will. Have you anything to say?”

Renato stared at Philippe, but never acknowledged the question.

“Nobody is to speak to the prisoner. He is to have no comfort. No food. No water. John Buck, see to his execution. Before he is locked away, turn him over to the Inquisitor. Let us see if the rack will yield information that he has secreted.” Philippe turned his eyes away from Renato’s. He seemed to sag very slightly. Then, he said, “Send in a priest and allow him to divest himself of his sins. He has converted to Christianity and lived these eight years as a Christian. We will allow him the small comfort of confessing his sins, though I doubt he will escape eternal damnation.” With that, Philippe stormed from the room as if to free himself from the weight of this awful night.

He walked down the long stone corridor and entered his suite of rooms. As he closed the door and bolted it, he felt he was not alone. Placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, he turned slowly toward the inner bedroom. There was no candle lit, so he could not make out anything. He walked quietly to his room and slipped into the darkness. Something stirred.