CHAPTER EIGHTY
Davud rolled back into the cushions at Suleyman’s side, both men short of breath and slicked by sweat, their musky scent potent amongst the still-dank furs and silks.
“Sule?”
“Yes?”
“Wouldn’t it be wise to turn back, to wait for the storms to clear? The Janissaries and animals suffer. Many wheeze, or limp from rot of the foot caused by this incessant deluge.”
“We will maintain our camp here for a short while, that they may regain their demeanor, but it is beneath my dignity to allow the storms to interfere with our strategy. We are obligated to move forward. Do you think the misery of the people to the north ceases because of precipitation?”
“No, my lord.”
The rain continued. The Danube swelled further, bursting from its banks to torrent across pasture and through for
