Two Old Mules Dancing

On the road to Edirne, Loukas gradually began seeing things he had tried his best to prevent for years being the Roman head of state.

Last time, the road from Constantinople is always donned in a bright blue sky, clouds are like marshmallows floating in skis getting carried away by the cosy Mediterranean breeze. The trees before the coast waves and dances in the wind, forming the souls and spirit of this beach, casting the environment in a natural green providing home and shelter to hundreds of other creatures.

However, today, as Loukas rides, things are different.

Under the coal-dark sky with little clouds, he found Ottoman riders and cavalries patrolling the area outside Constantinople, questioning any merchants or passers-by, even subjected to beating some of them if they refuse to answer. Loukas had to disperse them after showing the seals of the Grand Vizier and a few coins as thanks.

The trees are already chopped and carried away, what still left on the ground is just a lot of stumps exposed to the air. Loukas can see a dozen wood cutter's camp on the way guarded by Ottoman soldiers. What are they up to? He doesn't know what he can guess it.

Finally, he arrived in the town of Selymbria, 44 Roman miles west from Constantinople, where he is not surprised, but still had a bit of fright seeing camps after camps flying Ottoman Janissary flags. The rays of light emitted from the torches and stoves made the ground even brighter than the sky. Followed by the dull metallic sound of armours produced by the sheer amount of Ottoman infantries patrolling this area.

Loukas stumbled inside the town. The town, once filled with yells of shops advertising their merchandise, has completely vanished, replaced by chit-chattering of Ottoman soldiers patrolling and the sound of their boots knocking against the rocky ground. What never changed is the tavern frequented by Loukas and his old friend, still filled to brim with drunkards.

Before entering, he heard a man on the ground whining Orthodox prayers to Mother Mary and begging for bread in Greek. Loukas turned around and found out it is a Roman beggar, he sighed under his cloak, and dropped a few coins before the beggar, then entered the tavern. Where he immediately spotted another man in cloaks, but with an insignia of sword and crescent on the back, seating there eating a load of goat cheese.

"You sly, cunning old bastard."

Loukas approached the man from behind and hissed.

The man finished his last bit of cheese, clapped his hands to clean it off, turned around and asked whispering.

"Loukas Notaras?"

Loukas removed the hood covering his face, his emotionless face dims under the candlelight. He walked forward and sat on the chair opposite the man and threw him the blank piece of paper. The later grinned, picked up the paper, touched to feel it, and then torched the paper in the candlelight.

"I am more than happy that you could come here, Mega Doux…" The man put down his hood, revealing his true identity to be non other than the Grand Vizier Candarli Halil Pasha. He watched the fire flickering on the paper for a while, and then said. "Old friend, don't just sit there, take a taste of cheese and mead, this place offers the best in Thrace."

"I already had a taste of Ottoman cavalries' questioning and greed on the road just now." Loukas replied sarcastically.

"Is that so?" Candarli Halil Pasha took a sip of the mead. "Anyways, down to proper business… Judging from the look of it, you understood what I mean in the letter?"

"Yes…" Loukas replied staring at the candle. "Seems like you are not here to tell me a soothing piece of news."

"My Sultan has made up his mind."

Loukas sighed again shaking his head and leaned back. "War… war is non-beneficial for you, me, all of us."

He looked up staring at Candarli Halil Pasha straight in his eyes. "And you… your interests in the city. It will all be gone, blown away by the winter wind if you choose to bring a standing army to the city instead of wagons of trade"

Candarli Halil Pasha remains unswayed as he plays with his fingers.

"Peace, is good for all of us." Loukas held up his cup of mead and gave toast. "We together, can make a much higher profit together… with golden Ducats flowing into our purse like the Neda waterfall in Achaia… Think about it."

Candarli Halil Pasha peeled down another bit of cheese, raised his eyebrow and replied. "My Sultan… he is enraged, by you, and your emperor." Candarli Halil Pasha pointed back at Loukas. "He is arrogant… protects his throne like a lion king, and you, with that emperor of yours…"

"You dared to threaten him to release prince Orhan."

Loukas laughed beneath his breathe and retorted. "There are already discussions in the senate that whether we should release prince Orhan, and the emperor is willing to arm him."

"With what?" Candarli Halil Pasha jeered. "That poor emperor of yours? With a lady's comb?"

Both men laughed with their eyes and eyebrow bent like a crescent, Loukas tried to contain his laughter so hard that mead almost came spitting out of his mouth.

"My old friend… And they say you got no sense of humour, be sure to convey this message to your sultan, may he descend the mercy of peace upon us… After I take the throne, I will offer him ten times more Constantine can offer…. I will make sure of this, and we can discuss and come to terms for another truce, whether its tributary, or vassal I am willing to take it all."

Loukas took another sip of the mead and continued. "For you too… if you could make sure of it, I will grant you the rich that you have never seen."

"No, my friend." Candarli Halil Pasha continued grinning. "Why don't I just take the city with my Sultan, and take whatever you have inside? Our merciful Sultan has this rule that after we break any city, we are legal to loot and plunder for three days…"

"Then… if your Sultan is determined to come seek us trouble…" Loukas hissed sternly. "I cannot imagine the pathetic old face of yours, dying by your Sultan in a war that you could have avoided…"

Candarli Halil Pasha leaned forward and hissed back. "But if I conquer the city… I will behead you with my blade, personally, my friend."

Last hope for truce is gone.

Loukas gave a humph, stood up from the chair and walked out of the tavern. While Candarli Halil Pasha continued finishing his food and drink.

The beggar that Loukas gave a few coins just now turned back and looked at him from behind.