Now I Rise (The Conqueror's Saga #2)(115)

“The ambassador, you mean? He quite liked you. I could see it at Edirne.”

Radu realized with a sickening lurch of his stomach that Mehmed was dancing around a question, trying to determine whether or not Radu cared for Cyprian in the same way. Which meant that Mehmed knew Radu had the feelings for men that he was supposed to have for women.

Which meant Mehmed could not possibly be unaware of the feelings Radu had nurtured for him all these years.

Shame welled up in him, but a new feeling came, too. Radu felt … used. If Mehmed had known all this time, but had never acknowledged it, not even to gently tell Radu it was impossible … Nazira had said Mehmed would never fail to pursue an advantage. And having a friend so deeply in love with him that the friend would do anything in his service was certainly useful to any leader.

But even now, as angry and hurt as he was, Radu could not look on Mehmed’s face without love. He was still Mehmed, Radu’s Mehmed, his oldest friend. And in spite of everything, Radu would not give him up. Radu had made his choice. He had chosen to save Mehmed at the expense of an entire city.

Mehmed smiled, and it was the sun. Nazira was right. Mehmed was both more and less than a man. He was the greatest leader of generations, he was brilliant, he was a man other men would follow to their deaths.

And because of that, just like Constantine, he was a man who would leave death in his wake as he built greatness around himself.

“I have a surprise for you,” Mehmed said, his eyes dancing.

Radu had one last dark spike of hope that finally, finally he could have what he wanted. They were reunited. The city was Mehmed’s, and Radu had given it to him. They both knew how Radu felt. Maybe if Radu could have Mehmed, he could forget everything it took to get there. The same way Mehmed could forget what it took to get Constantinople, now that he had it.

Radu leaned forward. Mehmed turned, clapping his hands together. A guard opened the door. “Bring him in!” Mehmed said, his tone and expression gleeful.

Halil Vizier entered the room, the hems of his robes betraying the trembling of his knees. He bowed deeply. “How can I serve you, my sultan?”

“Not merely sultan anymore. Caesar of Rome. Emperor. The Hand of God on Earth.”

Halil bowed deeper. “All this and more is your right.”

Mehmed winked at Radu, then began pacing in circles around Halil, prowling like a cat. “You asked how you can serve me. I have an idea. I would like a member of your family for my harem.”

Halil straightened, swallowing so hard Radu heard it. Even now Radu could see the wheels turning in the man’s head. He nodded eagerly. “I have two daughters, both lovely, and—”

“No,” Mehmed said, holding up a hand. “Not that harem. The other one.”

Halil turned pale. “I do not understand.”

“Yes, you do. My other harem. The one you were so fond of telling people I had. The one that would ask for sons instead of daughters. I heard all about that harem. Didn’t you, too, Radu?”

Radu had so long nurtured a hatred of the detestable man now visibly shaking in the middle of the room. He had devoted so much time to defeating him, had played a game in which Halil was the spider and Radu the valiant friend protecting Mehmed from the spider’s web. But now, seeing Halil finally fall, Radu felt neither pleasure nor triumph.

“Halil Vizier,” Mehmed said, not waiting for an answer from Radu, “you have worked against me from the beginning. I sentence you to death for your crimes. I will grant you this one kindness: you may choose whether your family dies before you, or whether they watch you die before dying themselves.”

Halil hung his head, then lifted it, his eyes staring straight ahead. “Please kill them first so they have less time to be afraid.”

Mehmed nodded in approval. “A noble choice.” He gestured and the guards moved forward, taking Halil away. Mehmed watched until the door closed, and then he spun around, robes and cape flaring. “One more enemy defeated! Your reputation is restored, Radu Pasha!” He beamed with pride, waiting for Radu to thank him.

“No,” Radu said.

“What do you mean?” Mehmed’s eyebrows drew together. He looked at Radu as though looking upon a stranger. And perhaps he was. Radu was not the same person Mehmed had sent into the city.

“Do not kill his family. They should not be held accountable for his guilt.” Radu knew Halil’s second son, Salih. Had used him. Had taken advantage of Salih’s attraction to him to get what he needed. He looked at the floor in deepest shame. He was no better than Mehmed in this matter.

“But if I kill Halil, his family will be against me.”

“Send them away. Banish them. Strip them of their titles and forbid anyone in power to marry into that family. But if you do this for me, spare them.”

“If that is what pleases you,” Mehmed said, waving his hand with a puzzled expression. He spared their lives as easily as he had condemned them.

Radu bowed to hide his expression of sorrow. Sorrow for Halil’s family. Sorrow for Constantine and Constantinople. Sorrow for the person he had left behind when he crossed the wall for the first time. Sorrow for leaving Lada to pursue her own fate, while he stayed with someone who saw it as a gift to protect Radu’s “reputation” against the truth of his actual affections.

Mehmed put his hand on Radu’s head, like a benediction. Then with one finger under Radu’s chin, Mehmed lifted Radu’s face to look searchingly in his eyes.