Nicolae’s lips parted in a tentative, baffled smile. “If I understood anything you were saying, I absolutely would endeavor to obey. As it is, I think I will steer us toward a merchant who has a stock of juice that has been kept far too long and turned sour in the best possible way.”
An orange haze lighting the night gave them all pause.
Fire.
Four years ago, Lada had walked these streets, imagining raining fire down on them. Her heart leaped with joy, needing to be closer, to find the fire and feed it.
“Is that smoke?” Nicolae asked.
Lada ran forward, ducking around vendors packing up their stalls for the night, Bogdan and Nicolae on her heels. It became harder to advance as they got closer to the fire. People fled past, faces white with panic. Finally, they burst into the main market.
In the center of the square, a massive bonfire greedily reached toward the sky, sparks dancing up through the smoke. Lada wondered if she had missed some sort of festival.
And then she saw what was feeding the fire. And who.
Janissaries ran wild, ripping apart vendor stalls with their bare hands, tossing everything into the flames. They were grouped around the side streets, blocking them. Lada climbed the side of the building next to her, Bogdan steadying her. She could see several other fires starting, all along streets leading toward the city outskirts.
“They are moving away from the palace.” She jumped down. “How did this happen?”
Bogdan shrugged. “Revolt. There have been rumbles about it since Murad died.”
“But Mehmed is going to raise the pay! He and Kazanci Dogan made an agreement before he became sultan.”
“I heard nothing of a raise. If they negotiated one, no one told any of the men here.”
Lada wondered now who Bogdan had become in the time they were apart. He betrayed no emotion, though. She slammed her fist into the wall. “Kazanci Dogan betrayed us. He could not keep Mehmed from the throne, but he played both sides.”
“So they burn some buildings, maybe scuffle in the streets with spahis.” Nicolae’s eyes glowed as they stared at the fire. “Mehmed will raise their pay, and it will all be settled.”
“It makes no sense.” Lada watched as the fires spread, still moving away from the palace. What did Kazanci Dogan stand to gain by letting his men revolt? He already knew Mehmed would raise the pay. Maybe he was trying to get it even higher, but…
“The fires,” she said, her heart racing. “They are drawing soldiers to fight them.”
“Yes.” Nicolae drew the word out as though speaking to a child. “Fires do need to be put out, lest the whole city burn.”
“Play ‘Kill the Sultan’ with me, Nicolae. Think. The fires are moving away from the palace. The soldiers are moving away from the palace. All eyes are moving away from the palace.”
Understanding tugged the scar between Nicolae’s eyebrows flat. “They are going to kill Mehmed.”
“Petru and Matei are there tonight. I do not know the other men well. They could be part of it. We have to get to Mehmed.”
“Streets are blocked,” Bogdan said. If he had an opinion on which side they should be supporting, he did not show it. But he was right. Each street leading back to the palace was filled in by rebel Janissaries.
“I only have knives.” Lada looked hopefully at Nicolae, but he shrugged, holding out his empty hands. “You have nothing?”
“Not all of us sleep armed, Lada.”
“How are we going to get through the men?”
Bogdan walked over to a stall that had been partially dismantled. A couple of rebel Janissaries were there, but they saw his cap and nodded, whooping loudly. Bogdan reached through the stall to the heavy wooden door of the building it abutted. He opened the door, grabbed the top, and wrenched the entire thing from its hinges.
“I think he is a very different type of Wallachian than I am,” Nicolae noted.
Bogdan turned the door sideways, holding the latch like a handle. Lada laughed in understanding, getting behind the door next to Bogdan. Nicolae joined them.
With a roar louder than the fire, Bogdan ran forward. Lada pushed against the door, matching his pace. Wishing she could see the soldiers’ faces, she still felt the impact as they slammed into the men who failed to dive out of the way fast enough. Nicolae tripped, rolling and coming back up with a sword in his hand. Bogdan never slowed. He cleared their way with the crack of wood meeting bones with crushing force.
Lada looked over her shoulder to see two men pursuing them. She threw one of her knives and it was met with a wet thud and a scream. Stopping abruptly, she somersaulted beneath the second man’s sword and grabbed the first man’s from his slack fingers.