The Winter Thief

75

Trabzon harbor was wreathed in early morning mist as the steamer approached, but Kamil could see a small crowd gathered on the pier. He heard the clash of drums and the nasal whine of a zurna. A band had been sent to welcome the distinguished representative of Sultan Abdulhamid.

The governor of Trabzon Province, together with all the notables of the town, the imam of the town mosque, and a long-bearded priest were gathered in the small plaza by the harbor. When Kamil stepped from the pier, they bowed deeply. The governor stepped forward and began to deliver a flowery speech of welcome. When he saw the soldiers and horses disembark under the standard of the sultan, his voice died away, but after a moment he picked up his speech where he had left it.

Kamil found this reaction remarkable, since it was usual for royal envoys to travel with a military guard. He noticed tension in people’s faces and what he thought was fear.

The governor conducted Kamil to his house, which his family had vacated for the sultan’s envoy from the capital. The staff was left in place, the governor explained, to see to the pasha’s every need. He would personally supervise the billeting of the soldiers nearby.

Kamil thanked the man and directed Yakup to allocate rooms to Omar and Elif, whom, as she had suggested, Kamil introduced as his personal servant, Elias. Two days out of Istanbul, the steamer had encountered high winds and rocked back and forth like a baby in a swing. They had had to lay in at the Black Sea port of Zonguldak to avoid the worst of it, delaying them by two days. Elif had suffered a great deal from seasickness and, her face green, curled up under the quilts in Kamil’s cabin through the entire voyage. Kamil and Yakup had taken turns tending to her. Kamil’s anger had abated somewhat.

Omar knocked perfunctorily on the sitting room door and barged in, holding a piece of yellow paper. Kamil turned from the window, where he had been considering the height of the cliffs ringing the town.

“A telegram.” He handed it to Kamil.

Kamil read it, his expression darkening. “It’s from Yorg Pasha. There’s been an attempt on the sultan’s life by Henchak Armenians. The sultan was spared and is in good health, praise be to Allah.”

“You think your friend Vahid set that up?”

“Of course. It was just the push the sultan needed to send his army east.” Kamil waved the telegram. “It says here that a punitive expedition is being sent. Not just to the commune but to the region.”

“Just coincidentally while the sultan’s envoy, Kamil Pasha, is here,” Omar said venomously. “Vahid’s after you too.”

“He’s after much bigger prey. Vahid thinks he can get the sultan in his pocket by warning him that he’s in danger, that the empire’s in danger, and then miraculously saving them.”

“He already plays Vizier Köraslan like a puppet.” Omar danced his fingers around. “I wonder what he has on the old fellow.” He told Kamil about the kidnapping and murder last year of a young man, a friend of the vizier’s son. “There was never any evidence that he was kidnapped, but there are plenty of rumors that Köraslan’s son killed him.”

Kamil frowned. “I can’t believe Vizier Köraslan would go along with a cover-up.”

“Not even if the alternative was arresting his only son and losing his family’s reputation?”

Kamil held up the telegram. “We have to warn the commune. Those people must leave immediately.”

“Fine, we tell the socialists to pick up their tails and wag them out of here. But what about the local people?”

“I’ll inform the governor, but I can’t imagine the army would attack peaceful towns like Trabzon or Ispir.” Kamil took out his map. He estimated that the town of Ispir was about seven days’ travel, not far from the site of the commune but separated by mountainous terrain. “All right,” he announced, putting the telegram aside. “We’ll stop here for a day, then push on to Ispir.”

Omar picked up the telegram and read it again. “Did you see the date?” he asked, his voice tense. He held it out to Kamil. “This arrived a week ago. If the sultan sent troops, they could be here by now.”

Kamil looked at the date, then called out, “Yakup.” When his servant appeared at the door, Kamil told him in an urgent voice, “We move out tomorrow at first light. Get everything ready. We’ll need animals and supplies.” He began to fold the map. “Omar, go tell the soldiers. We’ll need a local guide.”

“Damn. I could have used some decent food,” Omar announced, patting his belly.

“You, the tough old soldier!” Kamil teased him. “I thought you could live on boiled boot leather. You’ve become too fond of your wife’s cooking.”

Omar didn’t respond and stalked out, leaving Kamil wondering whether the police chief had taken offense.

Later, over a meal of stewed lamb, Omar said between bites, “That explains all the goodwill and offers of free merchandise in the shops. The whole town has known about the contents of the telegram for a week. They’re expecting the worst. They probably think we’re the punitive expedition. People are practically throwing their valuables at me as I walk down the street.”

Kamil was appalled. “I hope you didn’t accept any of it.”

“Of course not,” Omar announced in an aggrieved voice, turning away. “What do you think I am?”

“If we convince Gabriel and his associates to leave, that should solve the problem. They’re the ones Vahid has accused of starting a rebellion. It’s absurd. They’re socialists. Why would the Russians help the very people threatening the czar’s government?”

“That’s why Vahid is calling them Armenian rebels and not mentioning the socialist part to the sultan. Our padishah isn’t dumb.”

“That puts the rest of the Armenian population here in danger too.”

“Didn’t you say the sultan was sending Kurdish irregulars?” Elif’s voice startled the men. They hadn’t heard her enter the room. She sat down and picked up a spoon. “You can’t put a boiled sweet in a child’s mouth and then hope to take it out again. The only thing that will stop men like that is a direct order from Istanbul, and even then…” She let the sentence dangle. “Some men just can’t let go.”

Kamil and Omar stared at her.