With another shared nod, Radu and Kumal parted ways to retrieve sisters who needed to return to the empire. One as a rescue, the other as a prisoner.
Tirgoviste
“WHAT DID THIS ONE do?” Lada asked, sharpening daggers while a motley group of prisoners waited in front of her throne, surrounded by her own soldiers.
“Rape,” answered Bogdan.
“Kill him.” Lada did not look up as the man was dragged away and the next was brought up. “And this one?”
“Theft.” She felt Bogdan staring at her, willing her to look at him. She had avoided him since Daciana’s warning. She did not have time to be careful with his feelings and resented having to accommodate them in any way.
“Why?” she asked.
“My family was starving,” the prisoner growled. “I would do it again.”
Lada paused, considering him. He was lanky and thin, but with the potential to be strong if well fed. “You may join my army. You will be on the front lines of any conflict and will most likely be killed. If you survive and distinguish yourself, your crimes will be forgiven and you will have the opportunity to get land for yourself and your family. If you steal again, or you disappoint me in any way, you will be killed. Otherwise you will go back to a cell. Do you agree?”
The man hesitated, his brow furrowed in thought. Lada appreciated that. The men who agreed without taking time to weigh the offer were lying either to themselves or, more likely, to her. She always had them put back in prison or had them killed, depending on their crimes.
Finally, the man bowed his head and dropped to one knee. “I agree, my prince.”
“Very good.” Lada waved him away. The soldiers directed him to the opposite exit, where he would join the ever-swelling ranks of her forces. She was approaching five thousand and hopeful for even more from Transylvania.
“Do we really want criminals for our army?” Nicolae asked. He sat nearby, though she had not asked him to join today’s session.
“We have had criminals for our nobility for centuries. Why not let criminals actually accomplish something for us?”
Nicolae sighed. “But will you really give them land after?”
“I give land to whomever I see fit. If it comes from me, they owe me everything. If I fall, they lose all they have gained. Do you see a better way to encourage loyalty among my people?”
Nicolae shrugged, grinning. But the grin felt off, faded and worn like his scar. Things had not been the same since he had questioned her. She felt the distance between them like the edge of a serrated blade. Move a finger along it slowly and it was merely uncomfortable. But move too fast and there would be blood.
“Why are you here, Nicolae? You should be training our new recruits.”
“There has been a letter.”
“Oh, a letter. That is new. Is it a proposal of marriage? Perhaps a careful admonishment to keep to my own borders and stop antagonizing our enemies? Or would someone like to congratulate me on my actions but do nothing to actually help us? I do so love these letters.” Lada sheathed a razor-sharp dagger at her wrist and pulled out the next one to be sharpened.
“It is from your brother.”
Lada sat up. “Clear the room.”
The soldiers pushed the remaining prisoners out, leaving only Bogdan and Nicolae.
“Where is Stefan?” Lada asked, holding out her hand.
“I do not know.” Nicolae passed her the letter. Radu had a new seal, something in swirling and stylized Arabic script. She crumbled the red wax to pieces before opening the letter.
Beloved Sister,
I write on behalf of his magnificence, the Hand of God on Earth, the emperor of Rome, the sultan of the glorious Ottoman Empire, Mehmed the Conqueror.
Lada marveled at the sheer weight of titles Mehmed had attached to himself. How did he walk with all those words trailing from his shoulders?
Recent events require a renewing of terms of Wallachia’s vassalage to the Ottoman Empire. To avoid a conflict you cannot hope to win, please attend to me at Giurgiu, where we can come to an agreement for how to go forward with friendship and peace. Preferably a friendship that includes significantly fewer impaled bodies.
Lada snorted a laugh, surprised by the flare of delight. There was her brother. There was the Radu hiding behind a new title, behind an empire that was not his own. She was hit with a pang of both melancholy and anger. She missed him. She had asked for his presence so long ago, but he was only coming now at the insistence of Mehmed, who correctly guessed that Radu was the only envoy not at risk of being sent back in a wooden box.