Prologue
29 May 1453
Thick, gray smoke formed a nearly impenetrable haze over the walls of the great city. The roar of canon fire, the crash of exploding ordinance, the clash of steel, and the screams of the dying mingled to create a horrible cacophony that was terrifying but at the same time fascinating to the ten-year-old.
Asticus watched the scene before him, unsure of how to feel. He knew that a Turkish victory would likely bring death, but death didn’t seem real to him. Besides, death would bring him to Jesus, and wasn’t that good thing? Despite this, his mother, and the other women of the city seemed to always be weeping, afraid of the death to come.
“Can you feel it, boy?” Maurice’s voice interrupted Asticus’s musings. The old man squinted at the boy with his one eye. “It’s that feelin’, right before a city gets sacked. Have you ever seen a city bein’ sacked? Ever smelled it?” He breathed in strongly, as if trying to catch a hint of the smell from his memories. “Ain’t nothin’ like it in the world.” He cackled wildly at that, opening a mouth that was mostly devoid of teeth; those that remained were blackened and rotting. His breath washed over Asticus in seemingly impermeable cloud, making turn aside in distaste.
In the midst of his laughing, Maurice unstoppered a flask, taking a swill that ended with wine spilling down his chin, adding to the filth that already matted his scraggly beard. “It’s comin’ boy,” he said after wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Any second now.”
“Asticus! Come away from there!” Asticus turned as his mother called to him. He stopped abruptly as screams erupted farther down the street. A soldier, unarmed and in the process of doffing his armor, ran towards them.
“They’re coming!” he cried. “The gates are breached, the walls have fallen! They’re coming!” Asticus’s mother rushed into the young man’s path, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.
“Get a hold of yourself! You must stand and fight! We must not give up that easily!” He shoved her away roughly, continuing on past Asticus and resuming his cries. A crowd of people came running down the street, screaming in fear. Asticus could see armed men behind them. He recognized them as Turks from sketches Maurice had made months before. “Asticus!” his mother yelled.
He found himself unable to get to her, separated from her by the stampeding mass of frightened citizens. And then, as abruptly as it had come, the crowd was gone. But by then, the Turks were upon them.
Maurice opened his arms wide, saying to the first soldier, “ Welcome, friend, to my humble abo-” he was silenced suddenly as the Turk struck his head from his shoulders. Asticus’s mother screamed, and the Turk turned towards her with a nasty grin, pushing Asticus aside.
He knocked Asticus’s mother to the street, crouching over her. Shouting, “Mother!” Asticus rushed at the man, punching him in the side of the head. The blow did nothing more than knock the man’s head to the side, but he stood with a roar and backhanded Asticus, sending him reeling to the ground.
The Turk raised his scimitar, but his hand was stayed by shouted order. He looked up, and was confronted by a mounted Turk, richly dressed and frowning. The mounted man said something else and the would-be killer grudgingly stepped away, turning back to Asticus’s mother, vying for possession with several other soldiers who had arrived.
Asticus, still stunned by the blow, was unable to resist as he was lifted from the cobblestones and thrown across the saddle of the mounted man. The last glimpse he had of his mother was as he was riding away. She was fighting savagely against her half dozen assailants, clawing in vain. With that image still burned in his mind, Asticus collapsed into darkness.
___ ___ ___ ___
Heyreddin Çavus,
aga of the Janissary corps, rode through the streets of the burning city, seeking his men. He found them a few blocks from where he had been, and immediately went to Nasuh.
Nasuh, çorbaci of the first
orta, saluted his commander. Heyreddin lifted the child from the saddle, and passed him to Nasuh. “I’ve found for you a new recruit. He no longer has any family. Keep him safe during this,” he glanced about at the killing, the looting, and the raping, “affair.”
Nasuh saluted again, and Heyreddin nodded in response, turning, and riding away.