‘No. You have more than earned them,’ Longo said. ‘I see myself in you, William. You have made me proud.’
‘Thank you,’ William said, looking away to hide his tears.
‘Watch over Sofia for me. Watch over her and my child. You will be all the father that he ever knows. Promise me that you will protect him and treat him as your own.’
‘I swear it.’
Longo nodded. ‘Thank you, and goodbye, William. Send in Sofia when you go.’ William took Longo’s hand and pressed it; then he rose and left. Sofia entered and sat beside the bed. She carried a cup of water, which she held to his lips.
‘Try to drink something,’ she said. ‘It will help.’
Longo shook his head. ‘It is no use. It is too late for that.’
‘Do not say that. You must fight.’
‘This is one fight that I cannot win, Sofia,’ Longo said. She took his hand, and they both fell silent. A wave of pain hit Longo, spreading out from his chest and contorting his body. The wave passed as suddenly as it had come, leaving him exhausted. He lay with his eyes closed, and Sofia leaned close to speak to him.
‘Are you still there?’
‘I am,’ Longo whispered. ‘I was thinking of that night on Corsica, our first kiss.’
‘I remember. It was the first time that I ever kissed a man.’
‘I thought that I would never see you again,’ Longo said. ‘But here we are, all three of us.’
‘Yes, all three of us,’ Sofia agreed, placing his hand on her stomach. ‘If it is a boy, he shall have your name.’
‘If it is a girl, name her Sofia.’
‘I will.’ Sofia turned away as tears filled her eyes.
‘Do not weep for me,’ Longo told her. ‘My entire life has been one of battle and bloodshed, revenge and honour. You have given me something more. I am prepared to die.’
‘I do not weep for you,’ Sofia replied. ‘I cry for myself and for our child. He shall never know you.’
‘You will tell him about his father,’ Longo said. ‘About how he lived, and why he died. Our child shall know me through you.’ Sofia nodded. Longo winced suddenly, his body again racked with pain. When the agony faded, it left him feeling tired and distant. He closed his eyes and sighed.
‘Do not leave me,’ Sofia said, squeezing his hand. ‘I need you.’
‘No, you are strong,’ Longo whispered. ‘And you have William.’
‘But I love you.’
‘I know,’ Longo said. ‘I …’ But the words died on his lips as another spasm wracked his body. This time when the pain passed Longo felt himself letting go, embraced in a warm darkness. The world seemed far away, and it was all that he could do to open his eyes. He saw Sofia’s face leaning over him, wavering but beautiful.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you for saving me.’ He paused, struggling to take a last breath. ‘I love you,’ he said and closed his eyes. Longo felt himself falling away into darkness.
As he slipped away, he heard Sofia’s voice calling to him: ‘I love you, too. I love you, Longo.’ The last thing he felt was the touch of her lips on his.
The next day Longo was cremated, and
la Fortuna
sailed for Chios, bearing his ashes. The seas were smooth and the journey a swift one. Shortly after they arrived, William was installed as lord of Longo’s lands, and he and his wife Portia took up residence in Longo’s villa on the island. Tristo’s wife Maria joined them, keeping house and raising her young son, Benito.
Sofia moved into the villa with them, and as the months passed her stomach grew large with the life inside her. Finally, on a cool evening in late January, her time came. Maria acted as the midwife, and Portia stayed to comfort Sofia. William stood outside the closed door of Sofia’s room, pacing nervously as he listened to Sofia’s cries.
Sofia had never known such pain. Her labour lasted all night. She was exhausted, but still she kept straining and pushing. ‘That’s good,’ Maria said gently, as Sofia pushed hard again. ‘I can see the head. You’re almost there.’ Sofia bit down hard on the strip of leather between her teeth and pushed again. Finally, the child emerged, screaming. ‘It’s a girl!’ Maria announced. She cut and knotted the umbilical cord, and then held the baby up for Sofia to see. But Sofia was not looking. Her eyes were closed tightly, and she was still straining. ‘William!’ Maria yelled. The door opened almost instantly. ‘Take her and be gentle,’ Maria said. William took the crying baby and stood holding her awkwardly. ‘Well what are you waiting for? Go!’ Maria snapped at him. ‘There’s more work to be done here. Twins, from the looks of it.’
Maria returned to her stool at Sofia’s feet. ‘That’s it,’ Portia encouraged softly in Sofia’s ear. ‘Keep pushing. You’re almost there.’ Sofia moaned with the pain and exertion, but she kept pushing.
‘That’s good. One more push,’ Maria told her. Sofia strained one last time, and the second baby was out, wailing unhappily. ‘A boy!’ Maria declared happily. ‘It’s a boy!’
Sofia smiled weakly. She was exhausted and numb with pain, but also happy, happier than she had ever been. ‘I want to hold them,’ she said. Maria gently placed the crying child in her arms. Sofia rocked him, and the boy quieted. ‘Hello, my little Longo,’ she whispered. William entered the room, and the baby girl was placed in Sofia’s other arm. ‘My beautiful Sofia,’ she whispered and kissed the child on the forehead.
‘They are perfect, Sofia,’ Portia said.
‘Two children,’ William said. ‘Longo would be proud.’ Tears formed in Sofia’s eyes. She nodded happily, unable to find the words to speak.
‘I suppose they are the heirs to the empire now,’ William continued. ‘The last of the Romans.’
‘No,’ Sofia said. ‘They are my children. Nothing more, nothing less.’
‘Well, that’s enough gabbing,’ Maria said tartly. ‘Now everybody out and leave her be. She needs her rest.’ She shooed William out of the door, then she carefully lifted up the infant Longo, and Portia took the baby Sofia. ‘We’ll look after them,’ Maria told Sofia. ‘You try to get some sleep. You’ll need your strength to keep up with two little ones.’
They left, and Sofia lay alone, exhausted but too happy to sleep. She stared up at the ceiling and smiled. ‘Thank you, Longo,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you.’
Mehmed ruled to an old age. He is known to history as Mehmed Fatih, or Mehmed the Conqueror. His son Bayezid followed him as the Ottoman Sultan, but Gülbehar never reigned as
valide sultana.
She died having not seen her son for many years. As for Sitt Hatun, she lived out her life alone, far from the Turkish court.
The Emperor Constantine’s body was never found. Constantine’s brother, Demetrius, became Emperor of the Romans after Constantine’s death. He had a brief reign. He ruled from Mistra for two years before Mistra fell to the Turks, and Demetrius was executed.
Gennadius’s reign as patriarch lasted eight years. In those eight years, he only left his cell for mass. He never left Saint Saviour Pantocrator.
William prospered as the lord of Longo’s lands. In time, he would leave to fight again, this time in Spain, with Longo’s and Tristo’s sons by his side. Longo’s daughter, Sofia, would become an empress in time. But that is another story …
As for Sofia, she lived to an old age. In 1497 she took Longo’s ashes and returned to Constantinople. She died a month later. Sofia and Longo were
buried together just outside the city walls, at the Shrine of the Virgin at Zoodochos Pege. The engraving on their tomb read simply
: Here lie two Romans.
Historical Note
The major events and characters in
Siege
are real. The historic Longo was a Genoese lord and mercenary who Constantine elected to lead the defence of the city. His adversary, the Sultan Mehmed, was a young man who had been driven from the throne at an early age and wanted to prove himself by taking the queen of cities, Constantinople –
kizil elma
or the ‘red apple’, as the Turks called it. The characters of Constantine, Notaras, Sofia, Gennadius, Dalmata, Ulu, Sitt Hatun and Gülbehar are also based on real people. William, Tristo and Isa are the only purely fictional characters in the book, but each could have existed – English prisoners were occasionally sold at the slave markets in Constantinople; as a lord and soldier, Longo would have needed a lieutenant like Tristo; and poison dealers like Isa also existed, particularly in the Muslim world and the East, where techniques to distil and separate chemicals were more advanced. The white powder and the liquid that Isa uses in the book are both forms of cyanide, which was obtained at the time from cherry laurel leaves. The antidote given to Mehmed would have been a solution of hot water, sugar and saltpetre, the chief component of gunpowder.
The events leading to Constantinople’s fall in 1453 happened much as I describe them: the last crusade was crushed at the battle of Kossova; Constantine’s brothers did plot for the throne. While I simplified the theological disputes, the conflict over Union was a very real factor leading to the fall of Constantinople. The siege of Constantinople was spectacular: it needed little embellishment on my part. The chain across the harbour, the giant Turkish cannons,
the transport of the Turkish ships over land, the Turkish tunnels into the city and the bridge over the Golden Horn are all authentic. Constantine’s farewell to his household is also based on history, and I drew on his actual words in recounting his final speech to his troops. The siege was so action-packed that I had to omit a few battles. I combined two of the Turks’ early attacks into one, and left out a night assault when they brought huge towers up against the walls. The only other major change was to make Longo arrive with the ships that fought their way through the Turkish fleet. In reality he arrived at the start of the siege.
I followed the historical record closely in reconstructing the final battle. The Turks did attack in three waves: bazibozouks, Anatolian cavalry, then janissaries. Longo was forced to leave the walls after being injured by a cross-bow bolt. Still the city’s defenders seemed to have won the day until the Turks gained access to the city through the Kerkoporta. The Christian lines broke when they saw a Turkish flag flying from the ramparts behind them. To this day no one knows why the Kerkoporta was left open, whether it was a simple mistake, a chance of fate or treachery. After the city’s fall, Mehmed had his grand vizier Halil executed. Again no one knows precisely why.
The history of the siege remains very much alive in the modern city of Istanbul. You can still walk the full length of the land walls and, at certain points, you can climb atop them and look out upon the plain where Mehmed’s army once sat. Near the middle of the walls, keep your eyes open for the gate which is named after Ulu, who really was the first Turk to breach the city walls. You can explore the ruins of the Blachernae palace. Gennadius’s monastery – the Church of Saint Saviour Pantocrator – still stands, although it is now the mosque Zeyrek Camii. The cisterns underneath the mosque have been filled in, but you can visit another Roman cistern near the modern bazaar which encompasses the ‘Street of the Colonnade’, where William was held prisoner upon his arrival in the city. And, of course, the Haghia Sofia still stands as the glory of Istanbul.
The Topkapi palace did not exist at the time of the siege, but is well worth a visit. When you enter through the Imperial Gate, look directly above you for the seal of Mehmed, who began construction of the palace shortly after conquering Constantinople. The inscription above the seal reads: ‘By the Grace of God, and by His approval, the foundations of this auspicious castle were laid, and its parts were solidly joined together to strengthen peace and tranquility … May God make eternal his empire, and exalt his residence above the most lucid stars of the firmament.’ The palace was greatly expanded by later sultans, but its basic layout remains the same as in Mehmed’s time. In the palace’s portrait gallery, there is a painting of Mehmed by the Venetian Gentile Bellini. You can also visit the palace harem, a more ornate version of the structures found in Edirne and Manisa during Mehmed’s time.
While the framework for the story is fact,
Siege
is a work of fiction and should be read as such. The personalities, motivations, plots and loves of the characters are fictional. Longo’s quest for revenge is my addition. While a princess Sofia did exist, the particulars of her character and certainly her affair with Longo are fictional. (What is true is that in 1469 a young Byzantine princess named Sofia – her daughter, in my story – married Ivan the Great, the first Tsar of Russia.) History tells us that Halil really was at odds with Mehmed and Gennadius was a firm opponent of the Union of the Catholic and Orthodox churches. However, the plots and conspiracies they hatch in
Siege
are of my own invention. The Turkish harem certainly was a place of intrigue, a strange mix of people where everyone strove to rise from
jariye
slave girl, to
odalisque
at the court of a favourite, to lover of the Sultan and perhaps even mother of one of his sons. Mehmed really did have his young rivals drowned when he came to power, and there are stories of unfortunate harem women being placed in sacks and thrown into the sea. Again, however, the particular plots of Sitt Hatun and Gülbehar are of my own imagining. In this spirit, all of these characters should be treated as fictional, as should their story.