CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
Suleyman strolled with Ibrahim through the palace stables. They admired the finesse of the horses, patting each on the neck and checking the suppleness of their legs. Groomsmen bowed low as the nobles went from stall to stall. With pride, they beamed as the Sultan inspected their workmanship in keeping the horses in peak condition.
“This stallion is magnificent.”
“Yes,” Ibrahim responded. “Almost as prime as Tugra.”
Suleyman peered into the hazel depths of the horse’s eye. “Yes”—a touch of sadness still evident in his voice.
Ibrahim gripped Suleyman’s forearm to lead him to the next stall. After inspecting the steeds and talking to the groomsmen and stable boys, the Sultan emptied his pockets of several hundred gold ducats for the men to share amongst themselves.
