Skye O'Malley: A Love For All Time Part 26

"To see my mistress when she returns from the baths." He looked concerned. "Is it safe for me to take Marjallah, my lady Sayeste? How can I not obey the sultan's favorite, yet I fear for my lady."

"You need not," replied Sayeste dryly. "Your mistress is to be no threat to the bas kadin for it has been decided that Marjallah is to be given tonight to the amba.s.sador from the Khanate of the Crimea. The harem is invited to a reception and entertainment in his honor, and the sultan wishes to give Prince Javid Khan a token of welcome. That token is Marjallah. You will, of course, accompany your mistress into the household of the prince. It will be quite a step up for you, Jinji, for I am told that the prince left his women behind when he came to Istanbul. Knowing of our justly famous slave markets he intended to begin afresh here. With no need for any other than his personal servants you will find yourself the only eunuch in the prince's household at present. This is a great opportunity for such a young eunuch, but if you behave correctly and with wisdom you could find yourself Prince Javid Khan's chief eunuch here in Istanbul. Not only that, if your mistress manages to attract him your fortune will be doubly made." She smiled toothily at him.

Jinji's mind reeled at the oda mistress' words. This was incredible good fortune indeed! Sayeste was perfectly right. He had the opportunity to be the head eunuch in a prince's harem! His lovely mistress had the singular opportunity to become the prince's favorite without any compet.i.tion, at least until the prince desired other women, which with luck would be shortly, and it would be he who would go to the slave markets to pick out exquisite beauties with which to tempt his new master.

"Is the prince a young man?" he asked, suddenly aware that if he wasn't, then all his hopes were for naught. What if this prince were a tired old graybeard?

"He is not a youth," said Sayeste, "rather he is said to be in the prime of his life."

The eunuch nodded satisfied. Good! he thought. A man in his full vigor, and hopefully a man with a good appet.i.te for the sweet flesh of the female of the species. "This is fine news," he said with great understatement to the oda mistress, "and I thank you for sharing it with me. Tell me, my lady Sayeste, does my mistress know of her fate yet?"

"I do not believe that she has been told," said Sayeste, "but I have not been informed that she should not be told so perhaps you will tell her of her fate before you take her to see the bas kadin. I wonder what the lady Safiye wants with her."

"Should I take her then?" fretted the eunuch.

"I see no reason why not," came the reply, but even as she spoke Sayeste was planning to send a message to the sultan valideh about this turn of events. She focused on the eunuch. "What did the lady Safiye want with you, Jinji?"

"She wanted to know about my mistress, but I could tell her little," said the eunuch. "The lady Marjallah keeps very much to herself."

"She is still frightened," said the oda mistress wisely. "New captives usually react this way. Poor dear. She has certainly been hustled from pillar to post these last months. Well, once she is comfortably settled in the prince's palace she will bloom I am certain." She gave him a friendly, almost conspiratorial smile. "Why don't you go to the baths, Jinji, and tell your mistress of your combined good fortunes. Then go directly to the bas kadin's apartments from there."

He bowed politely. "Yes, my lady Sayeste," he said, and tried not to show how eager he was to impart his news to Marjallah by not hurrying, at least within her sight, but once out of it Jinji almost ran, racing down the staircase from the second story of the women's quarters where the oda of Lady Sayeste was located, and along the roofed portico that opened onto the open courtyard of the women. By the time he had reached the bath he had to pause to catch his breath so that he might regain his dignity before the others. Entering the large and steamy room he stopped an attendant and politely asked, "Do you know where I may find my mistress, the slave Marjallah, who is being prepared as a gift for Prince Javid Khan? She has copper-colored hair."

"She is being ma.s.saged at the moment," said the attendant. "You will find her over there by the blue-tiled fountains."

Following the direction of her pointing finger Jinji moved across the room to where he found Aidan, p.r.o.ne upon a marble bench, being quite skillfully ma.s.saged by a young black girl with long, supple fingers. Kneeling the eunuch whispered softly, "My lady Marjallah, I bring wonderful news!"

She turned her head, and looking at him said, "What is it, Jinji?" She did not, however, really sound very interested.

"By the greatest stroke of good fortune we are not to remain here even one night, my lady Marjallah! You will be presented tonight to Prince Javid Khan at a reception that his majesty is giving for him. That great prince is the new amba.s.sador from the Khanate of the Crimea! He has not brought his harem to Istanbul as knowing of its famous slave markets he intended to build himself a new harem here. You are to be the first woman for that harem! Is that not wonderful news?"

Her silvery eyes widened in shock and distress, and Aidan's hand flew to her mouth to stifle the cry that arose in her throat. Good news? Dear G.o.d, no! At least here amongst all these hundreds of women she had hoped to remain anonymous until a ransom could be arranged for her for she refused to believe that such a thing was not possible despite what everyone told her. Of course she could be ransomed, and she would be! In the meantime, however, she wanted nothing more than to remain nameless and faceless among the many women of the sultan's harem. She had been so encouraged earlier when she had realized how large an establishment this royal palace really was. Her hopes had soared greatly when Omar had boasted as he led her and Jinji to the chamber of the lady Sayeste that Sultan Murad's harem housed over a thousand beauties who only lived to be called to their master's bed. She had almost shouted her relief at that juicy tidbit of information for it indicated to her she should be able to hide herself among the others until Conn could ransom her which would surely be soon.

Now she realized that she was in great danger if the sultan planned to give her away to another, and here was Jinji so delighted that she was to be the first woman into the new harem of this prince! Her heart began to hammer, and for a moment her breath failed her. Then she considered the possibility that the man might be elderly, or perhaps he would be able to be reasoned with and she could explain to him that her family would pay a great ransom for her safe return. A ransom that would buy him women who were willing and anxious to gain his favor as she was not. He had to listen to her! He had to listen to reason! How could she yield herself to another man? She was Conn's wife, and her husband loved her even as she loved him. How could she return to him with the sin of adultery standing between them? But if she was forced was it adultery? She didn't know. She simply didn't know.

Jinji was still babbling on, unaware of her distress. "And my lady, the sultan's bas kadin has requested that you come to see her when you have finished in the baths. This is a great honor, and the only greater one you might receive is if the sultan's mother wanted to speak with you, but of course, such a thing is not possible. Still in all we are most fortunate, you and I. I do believe that you have been born beneath a very fortuitous star. Did the great Osman say anything to you about this? You told me little of your natal chart."

Do not panic, she told herself. Do not be fearful of this situation. If you lose control then all will be lost. Answer his questions calmly, and do not let him see your fear. Fear can be a weapon used against you, Aidan reminded herself. "Osman did say," she replied coolly, "that I should not remain long in the sultan's house."

"Aiii! He knew! He saw! Tell me, my lady, what else he saw. Will you become the prince's favorite?"

"That he did not tell me," she replied unable to help smiling even in the midst of her fear. Jinji was so openly ambitious.

"You will capture the prince's heart, I know it," said the young eunuch. "I can feel it in my bones! Our fortune is made, my dearest mistress! Our fortune is made!"

Aidan thought it better to say nothing further to Jinji for he was obviously devoted to his advancement, and to share with him the hopes of her ransom from this captivity would be foolish. He would, of course, do anything in his power to prevent her release. When she had made her arrangements with the prince she would temper the faithful eunuch's disappointment with the suggestion that he would have several new beauties from which to mold a favorite for the prince. She suspected that he would, upon reflection, enjoy that.

The ma.s.seuse had finished her work, and she whispered in a musical voice to Aidan, "You are ready, my lady, to be dressed."

"I will take care of my mistress," said Jinji, self-importantly.

"Of course," said the ma.s.seuse politely. "Fresh clothing has been brought for the lady, and if you will both follow me I shall show you." She led them from the baths into another room where several women, and their various attendants were dressing. Opening a cabinet that was built into the wall she extracted from it a pair of pale blue silk trousers, a matching gauze blouse, and a little sleeveless bolero of deep blue silk embroidered with red and gold threads, and edged in gold fringe. There was also a narrow belt of polished bra.s.s links that looked like gold from which hung bits of ruby-colored gla.s.s beads, a small cap made from cloth of gold, and a pair of matching slippers. These she handed to Jinji, and then with a polite bow she returned to the baths.

"I doubt," said Jinji somewhat scornfully, "that these are the garments that you are expected to wear tonight. They are not nearly grand enough for a sultan's reception."

"What of the clothing that was made for me in Algiers?" asked Aidan.

"It is pretty enough," came the reply, "and it is certainly of the best materials for the dey would not have dared send you with garments that were not the finest. But it is mostly caftans, the dey wishing to display you in the costume of his province. He fully expected that you would he clothed properly by the sultan's household once you gained the sultan's favor. Although you will be garbed beautifully I do not think you will be given a wardrobe other than what you have with you." He lowered his voice. "Sultan Murad is said to love to collect gold, but not to disburse it. He is not a miser, but he is known for his avarice as well as for his l.u.s.t." As he spoke he reached into the pocket of his voluminous trousers, and drew forth a small brush with which he succeeded in untangling Aidan's wet and tangled hair. "There," he said as he finished, "now we may go before the bas kadin with pride," and he was off with Aidan behind him.

She had absolutely no idea where they were, but Jinji certainly seemed to know exactly where he was going. She followed him from the baths into a large tiled corridor, and as quickly into another wide, tiled hallway through a doorway and into a series of narrower pa.s.sages, the last of which he told her was called the Corridor of the Kadins. There Jinji stopped before a large carved door, and knocked deferentially. The guards on either side of the door ignored him. A pretty slavegirl opened the door, and Jinji said to her, "The lady Marjallah has been asked to attend upon the bas kadin."

The slavegirl stepped back to allow them admittance to the apartments of the bas kadin, and moving into the room Aidan was amazed. Both in Algiers, and here today in the Yeni Serai all she had seen of a harem had been the baths and the tiny room where she had been kept. She had wondered to herself if this was all that there was to a harem, simply baths and tiny cubicles where its inhabitants were kept. Now she knew she had been greatly mistaken. Perhaps women of no importance were kept in those little rooms, but here was an apartment of s.p.a.cious size, and gracious decor. Large windows looked out upon a planted garden from one wall, allowing in the afternoon sunshine. The room's walls were of decorated wooden panels, each one painted with a stylized tree in a gilded pot, and surrounded by colorful flowers of rainbow hues. The ceiling was composed of yellow and blue Italian tiles, and on one wall was a tiled fireplace with a tall conical hood of beaten copper. Upon the wooden floors were fine wool rugs woven in hues of soft rose, dark blue, and cream.

The furniture consisted of low tables of ebony and mother of pearl inlaid together to form elegant geometric designs, comfortable seating of low upholstered pieces, and silken pillows. The lamps, hanging, standing, and those that simply sat upon tables were of polished silver, copper, or ruby gla.s.s. There were arrangements of flowers everywhere, and to Aidan's surprise there were also several cats, one of which wound itself about her legs in a friendly fashion. She bent down, and patted the silky creature which had long white fur, and was of a breed she had never seen.

"Arslan likes you," said a musical voice, and Aidan stood to face a beautiful woman. She bowed politely for this was obviously a woman of rank, and there was no need for rudeness. The woman, who was pet.i.te with a full bosom, slowly looked Aidan over, and with such careful scrutiny that it brought a flush to Aidan's cheeks. The woman laughed softly seeing it, and reaching out patted Aidan's hand in a gesture of conciliation. "Forgive me for staring so hard," she said, "but I still cannot decide why it is the valideh is having my lord Murad give you to Prince Javid Khan. You really are lovely, but how unmannerly of me. I have not introduced myself. I am Safiye Kadin, the mother of Prince Memhet, the sultan's heir." She spoke accented French.

Aidan curtsied, although she felt the gesture awkward in her trousers.

"How prettily you do that," said Safiye. "I have not seen a curtsy since I was a child in Venice. I am a Venetian, you know. Come let us seat ourselves, and you will tell me how you came to be here. Besma, fetch us refreshments," she ordered a hovering slavegirl, and then drew Aidan over to sit down upon a pillow-strewn divan. "I know that they call you Marjallah, but what was your other name? Mine was Giulietta Lucrezia Fiora Maria Baffo. I actually think that I like Safiye better. It is simpler." She smiled in a friendly fashion at Aidan.

"I am Aidan St. Michael, and I am English. Until my marriage I served the queen as a maid of honor." Her silvery eyes filled with tears. "I want to go home," she said, and despite her best efforts several tears rolled down her face, but she quickly brushed them away.

"I felt the same way when I first came here," said Safiye, "but then I gained the great love of my lord Murad, and it no longer mattered."

"I want to go home," Aidan repeated. "I want to go back to my husband, madame. If you love your lord then surely you must understand how I feel! I was stolen from my family by a wicked relation, who when he failed in his attempt to have my husband murdered so he might marry me and steal my wealth, kidnapped me, and saw me sold into slavery for his own profit! I should not be here!"

"But nevertheless you are," said Safrye, "and it will be so much easier for you if you simply accept what has happened, and begin your life anew. You have no other choice, Marjallah."

"There is death," said Aidan softly. "If I cannot return to my husband, Conn, then I should rather be dead!"

The bas kadin was only four years Aidan's senior, but she had lived in the harem for more than half her life. There were indeed women who chose suicide over enslavement, but it was not necessarily the brave choice. "It takes more courage to live, Marjallah," she said, "and I have always heard that the English were a brave people."

"But to become a plaything of an infidel," Aidan protested, and Safiye was unable to contain her laughter.

"Infidel?" she said. "Oh, Marjallah! That is so typical of the European Christian, yet I have heard even they now disagree amongst themselves, and your England is one of the chief culprits warring against the pope. The Muslims worship but one diety. Christians call him G.o.d. Muslims call him Allah, and the Jews, according to my friend, Esther Kira, call him Yahweh. Muslims are very moral people, Marjallah. They are allowed four legal wives because they believe it unfair that one poor woman be burdened with responsibilities of a household, and bearing all the children that a man usually wants. Not all Muslims take four wives, but the choice is there. Muslims often keep concubines for they feel it unfair that a man confine himself to a single woman. Is that not more honest than your European gentleman who has but one wife, and keeps a mistress or two, and then not satisfied lifts the skirt of any maiden who is willing, or who simply takes his fancy? You do not appear to me to be unintelligent, my dear. The Muslim may have different customs, but he is certainly not an infidel."

"I beg your pardon, madame," said Aidan, chastened, "but I would still go home. My husband lives, and can pay a very generous ransom for my return. Please help me!"

Safiye's beautiful face puckered with genuine sympathy. "I truly wish I might," she said, "and if you were simply a captive who had shown up in the slave markets of the Great Bazaar, I could, but you are not. You are a gift to my lord Murad from an important official of his empire. To return you to your people would be to scorn the dey's gift, and we cannot, of course, do that. Accept your fate, Marjallah. I understand that Prince Javid Khan is a very attractive man, and he is only a few years older than my lord Murad. You are a very fortunate girl! If you make the prince happy then my lord Murad's gift will be considered lucky for the prince, and I shall be your friend. Since you are not to remain here in the Yeni Serai we will not become rivals, and therefore I can be your friend. A woman in my position has few friends."

Aidan sighed deeply. This was a strange sort of nightmare in which she found herself. She felt like a bug caught within an empty spider's web. For now there was no spider to hurt her, and yet she was still caught, and unable to escape. "Will it be like that for me, too?" she asked Safiye.

"Probably," came the honest answer. "There are always women attempting to steal your lord's heart from you. Your only advantage is to bear him sons before the others; and in the end should you lose him to another at least you will have his children, and if you are lucky you will have his friendship and his respect. It is the most that any woman can hope for, Marjallah." She smiled. "At least you will not have the problem I have, his mother! Here in the harem the two most powerful women are the sultan's mother, the sultan valideh; and the mother of his heir, the bas kadin. They are usually at odds as are Nur-U-Banu and myself. For many years I held my lord's sole attention, but Nur-U-Banu was jealous of Murad's love for me, and sought to replace me in her son's affections. She has succeeded to a certain extent. That problem you will not have with Prince Javid Khan. He has come to Istanbul alone but for a few trusted servants."

At this point Besma interrupted in order to serve them with the refreshments that the bas kadin had ordered. There were exquisite goblets of delicate crystal that had been filled with a chilled, thick, sweet drink that tasted of peaches. Safiye called it sherbet. And there was a silver plate of dainty flaky pastries filled with chopped nuts, and raisins, and honey. As distressed as she was Aidan found that her appet.i.te was totally intact, and Safiye smiled seeing her enjoyment. The bas kadin found that much to her surprise she liked the English girl, and she was very relieved to know that the sultan valideh's only purpose in seeing that Murad give Marjallah to Prince Javid Khan was to put the Crimean amba.s.sador in the sultan's debt. It was important therefore that the English girl cooperate. To that end Safiye tried to rea.s.sure her.

"Life here is not so terrible," she said. "When I first came to Istanbul I was absolutely terrified, but then I was only twelve at the time. How old are you?"

"I had my twenty-fourth birthday on the ship as we sailed from Algiers to Istanbul," came the soft reply.

Interesting, thought Safiye, she does not look that old, and then she said, "Then you are twice the age I was when I was stolen from my family. Still fright is fright no matter your age. You will be, however, more sophisticated than I was when I came here."

Aidan laughed, and it was a sound of genuine, if rueful amus.e.m.e.nt. "Would you be surprised, my lady Safiye, if I told you that a year ago at this time I was practically as innocent as the twelve-year-old maid you once were? My mother and sisters died when I was only ten, and from that time on my father kept me close to his side. We lived in the country, and my father never went to court. Then suddenly he was dead, and I found that he had entrusted the queen with not only my care, but with the task of finding me a husband as well which was something that he had neglected to do. I had not minded for I enjoyed being with my father, and found him the most interesting of men.

"But he was gone, and the queen, who is a wonderful woman, took me under her wing, and made a place for me amongst her maids of honor. It was she who matched me with my husband."

"And you grew to love him," said Safiye. "How fortunate that was for you, but now, Marjallah, that life is over. You are in the same position that I was sixteen years ago. Believe me when I tell you that to your husband you are now dead. It is what happens when a Christian woman is taken into the empire. To her family she is a dead woman. You cannot go back, and so it is best to face that, and make a new life with Prince Javid Khan."

"It would not be that way with Conn and me," Aidan protested. "It wouldn't! Our love is a special love; a love that will always be."

"Of course it will!" agreed Safiye, "but that love is finished, Marjallah. Think of it as you would a new year.

"Oh, my new friend, tonight you will be given to an attractive, and virile man. When he sees how lovely you are he will waste no time in taking you to his bed. If you loved your husband then you enjoyed the sweetness that two people make between them. Will you deny yourself that sweetness with the prince? By now your family has given you up for lost, and who knows that your husband is not already consoling himself with a new wife. You were not wed long, and men must have sons! That is a woman's reality. Your husband has already made his new start. Now you must make yours. If you returned to your old world you would not be welcomed. You would be considered decla.s.sed. You would be called wh.o.r.e, or worse. If he loved you as you say he did, then your husband would want you to be happy as he is now undoubtedly happy."

Aidan was devastated by the bas kadin's words because she had understood exactly what the beautiful Venetian was saying to her. She felt drained of all emotion as she realized that Safiye was probably totally correct. Never to see Conn again? Never to feel his touch, his kiss? The thought pained her and her hand flew to her mouth, but not before a sharp moan escaped her lips. Dear sweet Jesu! How could she go on living? How could she even be without Conn? She had never truly known what happiness was until she had become his wife. Tears of anguish slid down her pale cheeks, and her entire being ached with the helpless reality of this new knowledge.

In a tender gesture Safiye Kadin put her arms about Aidan, and said, "I know, Marjallah, I know just how you feel. Weep, my new friend. Purge your sorrow now so that tonight when the prince sees you he will fall instantly in love with you, and you will receive him in joy!"

For several minutes Aidan sobbed her sorrow against the ample bosom of the bas kadin, but then as her tears began to abate she questioned herself. Slowly she was coming to accept the unpleasant reality of what everyone was telling her. Yet why did she still believe she could not survive without Conn? She had survived quite nicely her entire life until seven months ago without Conn. She loved him. She had loved him from the first moment that she had laid eyes upon him, but she was never going to see him again, and she had not a doubt that he would live on into a ripe old age. Why should not she?

He would mourn her, for she did not even now doubt the intensity of his love and devotion for her, but Safiye Kadin was right. Men must have sons. If anyone understood that Aidan certainly did based upon the history of her own family. At least the St. Michaels would go on, she thought with some satisfaction. Through Conn her family would survive, and her father's dying wish would be granted although perhaps not in the way that he had wanted. She must resign herself to what was, and not what had been, or what might be.

Raising her head up she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, and then said in a tremulous voice, "Tell me what you know of Javid Khan, my lady Safiye."

Safiye heaved a mental sigh of relief. The crisis was over, and the Englishwoman would accept her fate. She would be grateful to the sultan's bas kadin, and now that the empire was beginning to open its doors seriously to the English she would be a valuable friend to have. "He is said to be a handsome man, and a good one or else he would not have been sent as the amba.s.sador from the Khanate of the Crimea. He is a Tartar, but I understand that his mother was a slave from Western Europe although I do not know where. You will find out soon enough. He will be a wonderful lord for you to have, Marjallah!"

There was actually little that Safiye could tell Aidan about Javid Khan, but the fact that his reputation appeared to be more good than bad was of some comfort to her. At least she had made a friend of the sultan's favorite, and she already suspected that Safiye's friendship could be important to her. Despite being confined within the walls of their harem, women here seemed to have a certain amount of power. She began to relax a little, enjoying the chatter of the bas kadin, the sweets they nibbled on as they talked, and Arslan, the large, long-haired white cat who had now settled himself quite comfortably in Aidan's lap, and was purring contentedly as she stroked him.

lt was this picture, the two young women, their heads together, giggling, that greeted the sultan valideh as she entered the favorite's apartments. She had already learned from Sayeste of Safiye's visit. What was the bas kadin up to? Nur-U-Banu wondered. Why did she want to interview Marjallah? Gliding into the room she smiled sweetly, and said, "What a pretty picture you make, my daughters. Ahh, Marjallah, you like cats. They are the beloved animal of the Prophet. My own Peri has just recently had a litter of three adorable kittens whose father, I suspect, is Safiye's naughty, wandering Arslan. Would you like one? They are of an age to be separated from their mother. No! You shall have them all for Prince Javid's palace will have no cats yet, and they are an excellent deterrent to the mice and rats."

"Thank you, madame," said Aidan softly. "I do love cats, and am most grateful to you for the gift."

"I shall have to take Marjallah from you now, Safiye. We must choose just the right garments for her to wear tonight."

"No, no, dear mother! There is no need for Marjallah to bother with the mistress of the wardrobe. We are of the same coloring, and I have recently had some lovely new garments made."

"How generous of you, Safrye," said the sultan valideh, "but alas, Marjallah is much taller than you are. I'm afraid that only the mistress of the wardrobe can properly outfit her."

"Then I shall come with you, dear mother."

Aidan's head swiveled back and forth between the two women. Why on earth were they fighting over her like this? she wondered. It was all so d.a.m.ned silly.

"I shall value your exquisite taste," said Nur-U-Banu silkily. "Come along, my dears," and turning she swept from the room while they scrambled up quickly to follow exactly as the sultan valideh had intended.

The mistress of the wardrobe was most deferential to both the sultan's mother, and the sultan's kadin. She looked Aidan over with a critical eye, and then said, "Her coloring is so very like Safiye Kadin's, that I would suggest greens."

"No," replied Nur-U-Banu. "I do not disagree, Latife, that green is a marvelous color for her, but for tonight let us choose something that will make her stand out even more when she is presented to the amba.s.sador. Find me garments in shades of purple."

Latife nodded. "You have the eye, madame!" she said admiringly and she hurried off to find the requested garments. Within a very few minutes she was back, her arms filled with a jumble of silks and satins. Laying the fabrics out across a divan she held up the first item for inspection, full silk gauze pantaloons in a wide stripe of deep lavender and cloth of gold. The ankle bands of the pantaloons were wide strips of cloth of gold embroidered in tiny seed pearls and pink crystals. The valideh nodded her approval. The second item presented was a short, sleeveless bodice of a lighter lavender silk edged in deep purple silk threads which were embroidered with seed pearls, pink crystals, and pieces of purple jade. Again the valideh nodded her approval, and so the final item, a pelisse, was held up for their inspection. It was of royal purple satin lined in lavender silk, and edged identically as the bodice. It had a frog closure of lavender-colored carved jade in the shape of a flower.

"Well, Safiye, what do you think?" Nur-U-Banu inquired.

"I would not have thought of it myself," Safiye admitted admiringly. "You are right, my mother, it is perfect."

The sultan valideh smiled, well-satisfied. There were still a few tricks she could teach her son's bas kadin. She had no doubt that Safiye would soon be appearing before her lord and master in shades of purple. Then she looked at the English girl who had been silent through all of the exchange. "Do you like my choice, Marjallah? It is important that you be comfortable in your clothing tonight. First impressions are always so critical with men. Be truthful with me, my daughter. If you prefer the greens then you shall have them." Her tone with Aidan was kindly.

"No, madame, I am satisfied to rely on your wisdom," said Aidan, knowing that despite the valideh's solicitous tone that she preferred to be agreed with. She, too, would be a useful friend, and then Aidan suddenly realized that she was beginning to think like these women. It was somewhat of a shock.

"Very well, Latife. See a slave brings these garments to the oda of Sayeste within the hour. You will also include a cap, slippers, and a girdle of gold."

The mistress of the wardrobe bowed respectfully to the sultan's mother, and without another word Nur-U-Banu turned, and left the room. To Aidan's surprise Jinji was by her side.

"You are to return to the oda of Sayeste and rest before this evening, my lady," he said.

Safiye gave Aidan a little hug. "Remember what I have told you, dear Marjallah, and do not be afraid. After all, Javid Khan is only a man." And then she laughed mischievously. "I will come to see you when you are settled, my friend," she said, and then she too turned, and hurried away.

Jinji led Aidan back through the winding corridors of the Yeni Serai to the oda of the lady Sayeste. I could never find my way around this vast palace, Aidan thought to herself. Arriving at the oda she was greeted by Sayeste, given a mattress, and shown where to place it upon the floor. There were already five other girls in the room resting, but none of them paid any attention to Aidan. They were not interested in being friendly.

"You must rest," said Sayeste, "and then we will have our supper. There is time to sleep if you so wish."

Aidan did want to sleep for if she didn't then she would begin to think, and she knew that thinking of what had happened to her, thinking of her handsome Conn, thinking of what Safiye had said to her, would only make her want to weep again. She had led such a sheltered life, she thought, not quite able yet to turn off her mind. Were women like her, enslaved in Barbary, really considered lost by their families? If she told her tale to the prince, and he returned her to England, would Conn indeed repudiate her? Would he really believe that she had escaped her apparent fate, unscathed? Given the reputation, deserved or otherwise, of the Turks, would she believe such a thing if it happened to one of her friends? She wasn't certain, and that doubt began to convince her that perhaps Safiye Kadin was correct. She was as good as dead to Conn, and their family.

It was a frightening and serious thought, and if it were true then her entire life up until this day was gone. She would be like a baby, ignorant, unsure, and learning everything anew. Yet she could not quite relinquish her memories no matter what they said. Conn.' She called out to him in her mind. I am not dead! I'm not! She shifted restlessly upon her pallet. I am going to get hysterical again if I do not stop this, she thought. She drew a deep breath, and then several others. Gradually she began to feel in control of herself once more. Safiye is right, she decided. I am here, and I must make the best of this situation. Tired now, for it had been such a long day, she allowed her heavy eyelids to close, and within minutes she had fallen into a deep and healing sleep.

Chapter 11.

The sultan's reception to welcome Prince Javid Khan, the amba.s.sador from the Khanate of the Crimea, was held that evening in the sultan's private garden which opened directly off his quarters. Although it was night, the large garden was well lit by torches and lanterns that had been strung across the fountains and paths, and in the trees. The garden was carefully and beautifully landscaped, its paths of pristine white marble chips raked smooth. At the end of the garden nearest the palace there was an open lawn where a large baldachin had been fashioned from wood, carved and gilded to look like the canopy was actually pure gold. Beneath it was a large divan of crimson satin embroidered with golden stars upon which sat Sultan Murad and his honored guest.

Nur-U-Banu's son was in his middle thirties. He was slender, and of medium height with languid dark eyes, and pale skin. His hair, and his close-cropped beard were of a golden-red color. He was every inch the Oriental monarch in his robe of red velvet tulips which were set upon a heavy gold brocade edged in l.u.s.trous dark fur. Upon his head he wore a cloth-of-gold turban which was hung with a rope of fiery rubies, and sported a golden aigrette which sprouted forth from a square of pure gold in its center.

To his left sat his mother, resplendent in her midnight blue tunic dress which was embroidered in gold thteads, pearls, and diamonds. Upon her blond head Nur-U-Banu wore a veil of gold gauze shot through with sparkling, metallic threads. Her jewelry, an incredible rope of diamonds and baroque pearls, was magnificent. Because of her position as the sultan's mother she wore no covering over her face, although for that matter none of the sultan's women did this night for Murad enjoyed showing this new amba.s.sador from the Crimea the fabled beauties of his harem. Normally he would not have done such a thing, but he was in the privacy of his own apartments, and other than himself, Prince Javid Khan was the only real man in the garden.

Below the divan seated upon an array of brightly colored velvet cushions sat his beautiful kadin, Safiye, and some half-dozen other of his favorites, women who pleased him in his bed, called ikbals. Some of these women had even borne him daughters. They had positioned themselves like so many dazzling, colored b.u.t.terflies, Safiye being seated closest to him with her head resting against his knee. The bas kadin had arrayed herself in greens and gold tonight.

Among the rose beds there had been placed tall cages of singing birds for the night was warm. The women of the harem, all arrayed in their very best garments, strolled arm in arm along the paths, admiring the September flowers, and enjoying the delicious fruit-flavored sherbets, and tasty pastries. It was an extremely pleasing picture, and no one appreciated it more than Prince Javid Khan.

"I would wish," he said to the sultan, "that all my nights in Istanbul could be as pleasant as this, but then how can someone like myself possibly hope to equal perfection, my lord?"

Murad smiled. He was no fool, but he enjoyed the courtly flattery. "I am going to make your night even more perfect, Javid Khan," he said. "I understand that you came to Istanbul without your women. Is this rumor correct?"

For the briefest moment Javid Khan's mouth tightened, and then he said, "The rumor is correct, my lord."