Bertrice Small - Adora

Prince Bajazet must be protected at all costs for he was his father’s choice. Prince Yakub, though loyal to his father and older brother, might be tempted by his unhappy mother‘s plots. Thamar must be sidetracked. Demetrios was chosen to do the job.

Paulus was replaced by Demetrios. And, one day, the few female slaves Thamar kept were all replaced by new women. Knowing no differently, these women gave their loyalty to Demetrios.

The sultan’s second wife began to change. The extra pounds she had gained melted away, and her hair became soft and shining again. Demetrios satisfied her physical needs each night.

Though she grew calmer and more content, she could not refrain from plotting. But Demetrios managed to confine Thamar’s schemes to the talk stages. He was worried by her extreme hatred of the sultan’s favorite wife. Thamar could become completely irrational if Theadora’s name were even mentioned. She would rant on and on about her plans to make Adora suffer as she had suffered. Demetrios did not understand this, for Thamar quite frankly admitted that she had never loved Sultan Murad. Why then, this unreasonable hatred for Theadora? This was one thing Demetrios did not report to Ali Yahya.

The young eunuch was truly fond of his mistress. If a humble former fisherman from the province of Morea could dare to love a princess, then Demetrios did. Though Thamar might be her own worst enemy, she now had someone who would protect her from herself.

Prince Andronicus had been imprisoned for several years in the Marble Tower, which was located at the far western end of the city. After his temporary blinding, he had been returned there to languish. His wife was dead, and his one son, John, was being raised in the palace.

He lived comfortably, his servants were pleasant, and he was denied nothing…except women, and his freedom. His world consisted of the rooms in which he lived, though the tower windows gave him a panoramic view of the city, the countryside beyond it, and the sea of Marmara.

He was allowed no visitors for fear he would begin plotting again. No one came in any case, for none of his former friends wished to be identified with a convicted traitor. Andronicus was quite surprised, therefore, to see his mother arrive one afternoon, heavily cloaked, and paying lavish bribes to his guards.

She embraced him excitedly. “The hour of your deliverance is near, my darling son,” she gushed. “Your brother has disgraced himself at last!” And she quickly filled him in on the events of the past few months. “Your foolish father has sent Manuel to Bursa to beg Murad’s pardon. Poor Manuel will not, of course, return alive. Your father will then have to free you!”

“I shall be his co-emperor!” Then Andronicus’ eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I shall be the only emperor,” he said softly.

“Oh, yes, my darling!” cried Helena. “Whatever you want, I will help you to get. You shall have it. I swear it!”

But Prince Manuel did return from Bursa. He was forgiven his sins by the sultan, and he had a bride who was already with child. The emperor was relieved to see his favorite son, though he was at first a trifle put out that his paternal rights had been assumed by Murad. However, within a few days John had to admit that Murad’s choice of a bride for Manuel had been perfect. She was sweet-natured, obedient, and very much in love with her husband. Manuel returned her affection equally. The emperor could wish no more for his son.

The empress was not pleased. Not only was Julia everything Helena wasn’t, she was also very pretty. Quiet spoken, but firm of character, Julia moved in to fill the gap left by the empress’s constant absences. The emperor and his younger son had more of a feeling of family than they had had in years, and John prepared to name young Julia co-empress when her child was born.

The baby was a girl. It was the kind of disappointment that Manuel and his father might have borne with good grace had young Julia not sickened and died of a milk fever almost immediately thereafter.

Manuel was heartbroken. He had his infant daughter moved into his own bedroom so he might watch over her at night, and he swore never to wed again.

“Andronicus’ son, John, can follow me,” he told his father sadly. “He is a good lad, and more like us than like his father.”

So the matter was settled for the time being. Julia’s daughter was baptized Theadora, after her father’s aunt. The empress, her grandmother, was enraged.

Helena began to plot again. Though her beauty had coarsened, she was still attractive, and she exuded a primitive sensuality that attracted men.

Now Helena decided to marshall support among her influential friends in the interests of her older son, Andronicus. He should be co-emperor with his father, not Manuel. She chose as her coconspirators General Justin Dukas, one of the empire’s finest soldiers; Basil Phocas, a leading banker and merchant; and Alexius Commenus, the premier nobleman of the empire. The general would bring military support to Helena’s cause, the merchant-banker financial aid. Commenus would bring the nobility, who all followed his lead. It was often said that if Alexius Commenus shaved his head and painted it crimson, so would most of Constantinople’s noblemen.

Although Justin Dukas could guarantee certain regiments of the Byzantine army, additional support would be needed. Basil Phocas’ money bought Genoese and Ottoman troops who waited discreetly outside the city for Andronicus to join them.

In Bursa, Murad laughed ‘til his sides ached at Helena’s machinations. Adora was concerned for the safety of John and Manuel.

“They will not be harmed, my dove,” he assured her. “The banker, Phocas, is in my service. He will see that neither John nor Manuel is harmed.”

Comprehension dawned. “Then it is really you who finances the Ottoman troops Helena bought?”

“Oh, no!” chuckled Murad. “Phocas is footing the bill, but no Ottoman troops fight without my permission. It suits me to keep Byzantium in an internal uproar for now. That way they cannot plot against me while I plan my next campaign for expansion.”

“Is the city included in this new expansion?” she asked. “Do not forget that you owe me my bridal price.”

“Someday,” said Murad quietly and seriously, “we will rule our empire from there. But the time is not yet ripe. I must first conquer all of Anatolia so there is no one at my back. Germiyan has been absorbed into our family, but the emirates of Aydin and Karamania remain a threat. And there is yet one Byzantine city left near us. I must have Philadelphia!”

“Do not forget,” she reminded him, “that when you have removed the Paleaologi from your path, there are still the Commenii of Trebizond. They, too, are heirs to the Caesars.”

“If all else in Anatolia is mine, what chance has Trebizond against me? It will be surrounded by a Muslim world on three sides, and a Muslim sea on the fourth side.”

His strategy was, as always, correct. Murad securely planned his next campaign while the Paleaologi family were kept busy fighting with each other for the right to govern a dying empire.

Andronicus escaped the Marble Tower and joined his troops outside the walls. The population of Constantinople was pulled back and forth in their loyalties by daily rumors. The yearly advent of the plague was said to be God’s way of showing the people that Andronicus was in the right and John and Manuel in the wrong.

In no time at all General Dukas had swayed the remaining military units over to Andronicus’ side. The city’s Golden Gate was deliberately opened early one dawn to Andronicus and his mercenaries. They marched down the Triumphal Way to the cheers of the populace. Emperor John and his younger son, Manuel, were spared only by the intervention of Basil Phocas, who threatened to withdraw his financial support if they were harmed. Since Andronicus needed the continued financial aid of the merchant-banking community to pay his troops, he had no choice but to accede.

Basil Phocas heaved a secret sigh of relief. His continued wealth in these difficult times was due to the fact that his caravans traveled in safety throughout Asia. This was due to Ottoman protection. In return, Phocas spied for Murad and did his bidding discreetly. He had promised the sultan that neither of the deposed co-emperors would be harmed. But he had not counted on the viciousness of the empress. Helena wanted her spouse and younger son dead.

Fortunately, the other chief conspirators agreed with Phocas. John and Manuel were imprisoned in the Marble Tower that had held Andronicus. Basil Phocas personally paid the Ottoman soldiers who guarded the prisoners and the servants who waited on them. The soldiers and servants were told that Sultan Murad wanted the two men kept alive. If anyone offered them a bribe to visit the prisoners or to poison them, they were to accept the money and then immediately report to Phocas. In this manner the two men were kept safe.

Inspired by Helena’s success, Thamar decided to try her hand at intrigue. She entered into secret negotiations with the wife of Murad’s deadly enemy, the emir of Aydin. Her objective, as always, was a kingdom for her son, Prince Yakub. He, of course, knew nothing of his mother’s plans.

The emir’s fourth wife was the heiress of Tekke. She had but one child, a daughter of thirteen. It was this girl-and Tekke-that Thamar sought for her son. Even her beloved Demetrios was kept unaware of her plans and it was only by chance that he learned of the plot before it could be completed.

One night he awoke to hear her talking in her sleep. He debated shaking her awake. But he realized that, if he did so and her plans were later foiled, she would know who had betrayed her.

Having heard enough to give him an idea of what she was up to, he rose quietly and sought for the small ebony and mother-of-pearl box in which she kept her correspondence. Sure enough within he found not only copies of her letters, but the letters from Aydin’s fourth wife as well. Shaking his head at the foolishness of keeping such incriminating letters, he slipped from the room with the box.

When Ali Yahya had read the letters he said, “Return the box to its hiding place, Demetrios. Say nothing, of course, but continue to serve your lady well.” Then, he handed the younger man an exquisite sapphire ring.

Demetrios slipped the ring on his finger and did as he was bid. He wondered how Ali Yahya would circumvent Thamar’s plans. But he did not have long to wait before finding out. Several weeks later there came word that the emir of Aydin’s fourth wife and her daughter had been drowned in a boating accident.

Though Thamar kept her own council, he knew the reason for her unhappy mood and he strove harder to please her. He was touchingly tender and understood one day when, for no apparent reason, she burst into tears.

Dismissing her women, he held her in his arms while she wept. “Why do you cry, my beloved?” he encouraged her. To his surprise she admitted, “I must have a kingdom for Yakub! He will never follow Murad while Bajazet lives. And though his older brother is fond of him, he will kill him before their father’s body is cold. If I can find another kingdom for him, then he is no threat to them.”

Demetrios felt a terrible sadness sweep over him. “Oh, my dear one,” he said gently. “You do not understand, and I do not know if you ever will. There is no other kingdom for your son. The sultan means to eventually rule all of Asia and Europe. Perhaps the Ottoman will not succeed in Sultan Murad’s lifetime, but surely in the lifetime of his descendants. Your son is too fine a man and too good a soldier to remain alive when the present sultan dies. You must accept this, my beloved, though it breaks your heart. If Prince Bajazet does not die before his father does, it is he who will rule next. Your son will die. There is no other way Bajazet can be safe. You must accept it.”

“I did not bear and raise my son to be slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb!” she screamed.

“Hush, mistress,” he comforted her. “It is the way of the world. You must steel yourself. God willing, it will be many years before you lose your son. He might even die a natural death.”

She quieted, but the look in her eye warned him that she would not accept her son’s fate without a fight. He would have to watch her carefully from now on. What, he wondered, would she do?

In the meantime Andronicus had had himself crowned the fourth emperor of that name. At first he had been very popular for he talked convincingly about lifting the Turkish yoke and of restoring the city’s prosperity. He could, of course, do neither. Soon there were rumblings of discontent. Andronicus levied new taxes to pay for his diversions.