“Turgut leaned forward. ‘Furthermore, I have learned that there is a scholar in Bulgaria whom you can seek for help. His name is Anton Stoichev. My friend Aksoy greatly admires his work, which is published in many languages.’ Selim Aksoy nodded at the name. ‘Stoichev knows more about the medieval Balkans than anyone else alive, especially about Bulgaria. He lives near Sofia -you must ask about him.’
“Helen took my hand suddenly, openly, surprising me; I’d thought we would keep our relationship secret even here, among friends. I saw Turgut’s glance fall on the little motion. The warm lines around his eyes and mouth deepened, and Mrs. Bora smiled frankly at us, clasping her girlish hands around her knees. Clearly, she approved of our union, and I felt a sudden blessing of it by these kindhearted people.
“‘Then I will call my aunt,’ Helen said firmly, squeezing my fingers.
“‘Éva? What can she do?’
“‘As you know, she can do anything.’ Helen smiled at me. ‘No, I do not know exactly what she can or will do. But she has friends as well as enemies in the secret police of our country’-she dropped her voice, as if in spite of herself-‘and they have friends everywhere in Eastern Europe. And enemies, of course-they all spy on each other. It may put her in some danger-that is the only thing I regret. And we will need a big, big bribe.’
“‘Bakshish.’Turgut nodded. ‘Of course. Selim Aksoy and I have thought about this. We have found twenty thousand liras you may use. And although I cannot go with you, my fellows, I will give you whatever help I can, and so will Mr. Aksoy.’
“I was looking hard at him now, and at Aksoy-they sat upright across from us, their coffee forgotten, very straight and serious. Something in their faces-Turgut’s large and ruddy, Aksoy’s delicate, both keen-eyed, both calmly but almost fiercely alert-was suddenly familiar to me. A sensation I couldn’t name went over me; for a second it stayed the question in my mouth. Then I gripped Helen’s hand more tightly in mine-that strong, hard, already beloved hand-and looked into Turgut’s dark gaze.
“‘Who are you?’ I said.
“Turgut and Selim glanced at each other and something appeared to pass silently between them. Then Turgut spoke in a low, clear voice. ‘We work for the sultan.’”
Chapter 51
“Helen and I drew back as one. For a second I thought Turgut and Selim must be aligned with some dark power, and I struggled with the temptation to grab my briefcase and Helen’s arm and flee the apartment. How except through occult means could these two men, whom I’d thought of as my friends, work for a sultan long dead? Actually, all the sultans were long dead, so whichever one Turgut was referring to could not be of this world anymore. And had they been lying to us about a host of other issues?
“My confusion was cut short by Helen’s voice. She leaned forward, pale, her eyes large, but her question was a calm one, and eminently practical, in the situation-so practical at first that it took me a moment to understand it. ‘Professor Bora,’ she said slowly, ‘how old are you?’
“He smiled at her. ‘Ah, my dear madam, if you are asking whether I am five hundred years old, the answer is-fortunately-no. I work for the Majestic and Splendid Refuge of the World, Sultan Mehmed II, but I never had the incomparable honor of meeting him.’
“‘Then what on earth are you trying to tell us?’ I burst out.
“Turgut smiled again and Selim nodded kindly at me. ‘I had not intended to tell you this at all,’ Turgut said. ‘However, you have given to us your trust in many things, and because you ask this so perceptive question, my friend, we will explain. I was born in the normal way in 1911 and I hope to die in the normal way in my bed in-oh, about 1985.’ He chuckled. ‘However, my family members always live a long, long time, so I shall be cursed with sitting on this divan when I am too old to be respectable.’ He put an arm around Mrs. Bora’s shoulders. ‘Mr. Aksoy is also of the age you see him here. There is nothing so strange about us. What we will tell you, which is the deepest secret I could entrust to anyone, and which you must keep secret no matter what may happen, is that we are part of the Crescent Guard of the Sultan.’
“‘I don’t think I have ever heard of them,’ Helen said, frowning.
“‘No, Madam Professor, you have not.’ Turgut glanced at Selim, who sat listening patiently, obviously trying to follow our conversation, his green eyes quiet as a pond. ‘We believe that no one has heard of us except our members. We were formed as a secret guard from among the most elite corps of the Janissaries.’
“I remembered, suddenly, those stony, bright-eyed young faces I’d seen in the paintings from the Topkapi Saray, their solid ranks grouped near the sultan’s throne, near enough to spring on a potential assassin-or on anyone, for that matter, who suddenly fell from the sultan’s favor.
“Turgut seemed to read my thoughts, for he nodded. ‘You have heard of the Janissaries, I see. Well, my fellows, in 1477, Mehmed the Magnificent and Glorious called to him twenty officers who were the most trustworthy and the best educated of all his corps, and conferred on them in secret the new symbol of the Crescent Guard. They were given one purpose, which they were to fulfill-at the cost of their lives, if necessary. That purpose was to keep the Order of the Dragon from bringing any more torment to our great empire, and to hunt down and kill its members wherever they could be found.’
“Helen and I both inhaled, but for once I got there before she did. ‘The Crescent Guard was formed in 1477-the year the monks came to Istanbul!’ I tried to puzzle it out as I spoke. ‘But the Order of the Dragon was founded long before that-by the Emperor Sigismund in 1400, right?’
“‘It was 1408, to be exact, my friend. Of course. By 1477 the Sultans had already had quite a problem with the Order of the Dragon and its wars on the Empire. But in 1477, His Gloriousness the Refuge of the World decided that there might be even worse raids from the Order of the Dragon in the future.’
“‘What do you mean?’ Helen’s hand was motionless in mine, and cold.
“‘Even our charter does not say this directly,’ Turgut admitted, ‘but I am certain it is no coincidence that the sultan founded the Guard only months after the death of Vlad Tepes.’ He put his hands together, as if in prayer-although, I remembered, his ancestors would have prayed prostrate, on their faces. ‘The charter says that His Magnificence founded the Crescent Guard to pursue the Order of the Dragon, most despised enemies of his majestic empire, through all time and space, over land and sea and even across death.’
“Turgut leaned forward, his eyes glowing and his silver mane springing up wildly. ‘It is my theory that His Gloriousness had a sense, or even knowledge, of the danger Vlad Dracula might deliver to the Empire after his-Dracula’s-death.’ He raked his hair back. ‘As we have seen, the sultan also founded at that time his collection of documents about the Order of the Dragon-the archive was not a secret, but it was used in secret by our members and still is. And now, this marvelous letter Selim has found, and your folk song, madam-these are further proof that His Gloriousness had a good reason to worry.’
“My brain was still seething with questions. ‘But how did you-and Mr. Aksoy-come to be part of this Guard?’
“‘The membership is handed down from fathers to eldest sons. Each son receives his-how is it in English?-his induction at the age of nineteen. If a father has only unworthy sons, or none, he lets the secret die with him.’ Turgut retrieved, finally, his deserted coffee cup, and Mrs. Bora moved to fill it for him. ‘The Crescent Guard was kept so well a secret that even the other Janissaries did not know that some of their ranks belonged to such a group. Our belovedfatih died in 1481, but his Guard continued. The Janissaries rose to great power sometimes, under weaker sultans, but we kept our secret. When the Empire finally vanished even from Istanbul, no one knew about us and we remained. Our charter was kept safe by Selim Aksoy’s father during the first Great War, and by Selim during the last one. He retains it now, in a secret place that is our tradition.’ Turgut drew a breath and took a grateful gulp of his coffee.