The Kadin Part 13

"True," said David, "and in this case it is the girl's husband. A remarkable young man. He is a scholar, and not only does he speak, read, and write several European tongues, but Turkish and Persian as well. He would be an excellent secretary."

"How much for the four of them?"

"All four, my lord?"

"I have said it!"

"Let me see now. Fifty dinars for Arslan, my lord. One hundred for the Egyptian. A very special price to you, and I am losing money. One hundred for the secretary, and five for his useless wife. Two hundred and fifty-five gold dinars in all, my lord."

"One hundred for the Egyptian, David. Twenty-five for Arslan, fifty for the man and his wife. One hundred seventy-five dinars, and I am being generous."

"My lord! You will drive me into poverty! Two hundred thirty is the lowest I can go."

"Two hundred is all I will give you."

"Done!" replied David ben Kira. "I will include a cart and driver to transport them to your palace. Do you want them today, my lord?"

"Yes, but no cart, David. Lend me four horses. One of my slaves will return them to you the next time I come to the city. A cart will slow me down. As it is, I will not get back to my home until late tomorrow."

David ben Kira arose. "I shall arrange it at once. You will be ready to leave within the half hour." He motioned to the waiting slaves to follow him and left the room.

"Here, lad," Selim called to Firousi. "Tell the girl her husband goes, too."

Firousi walked over to the girl, whose name was Marian, and put a hand on her arm, "Don't be frightened," she said kindly. "My master has bought you to serve his wife, and he had also bought your husband to be his secretary. You will see him in a few moments. Now go along with David ben Kira."

"Thank your master for me," replied the girl tears rolling down her cheeks. "If I had been separated from Alan, I should have died. If we must be slaves together, we will serve your master well for this kindness." She lea the room.

Firousi moved back to Selim "It is done, master. The girl is grateful and will give no trouble."

"You make a charming boy, little turquoise," remarked Hadji Bey.

"You knew! And I was feeling so pleased to have fooled you!"

"So you might have, my child, had you not showed me those wonderful eyes." He turned to Selim. "A very dangerous game, my boy. Why did you bring her disguised thus? If Besma gains knowledge of this, she will use it, you may be sure."

"I needed her to help me choose a special gift for Cyra, and she did. No one knows but Lady Refet Her absence is concealed by the ruse of a high fever. We are safe."

"Yes, only one of the harem slaves spies for Besma."

"Who, Hadji Bey? Give me the name."

"Selim, Selim. If you know, you will never be able to contain yourself. Believe me, the slave involved holds an unimportant post and can hurt none of the girls."

"Very well, my friend. You have guided me successfully so far. There is no need for me to doubt your judgment now."

"Have you taken other ikbals, Selim?"

"No, but when we return to the Moonlight Serai, Firousi will journey down my Golden Road, eh, little page?"

Firousi blushed beneath the brown stain on her cheeks. "Yes, my lord," she whispered.

"And the others," continued the agha, "they please you?"

"It's like being offered a plate of cakes after a fast, my friend. Each is more delectable than the other. The fool gobbles them up quickly, but the wise man savors each in its turn to enjoy the full flavor."

"Well spoken, Selim, and your choices were excellent, though the Spanish girl still worries me."

"My sharp-tongued Sarina? She hides a warm heart, Hadji Bey, and Cyra found her weakness immediately. She is clever at making things grow. We have put her in charge of the gardens, which she rules like a benevolent dictator."

"Good" smiled the agha. "Ah, David ben Kira, we are ready to depart?"

"Yes, my lord. The prince's new slaves are in the courtyard, mounted and waiting."

They arose and walked to the courtyard Selim pressed a purse into the Jew's hand. "Your price-and for you, a small token of my thanks," he said, holding up a large yellow diamond.

The merchant, gasping, took the stone. "My lord prince-such generosity-if I can ever serve you again-"

"I shall remember, David ben Elira."

"Well done, my son," whispered Hadji Bey. "And now," he said, raising his voice, "I bid you farewell." He climbed into his litter and raised his hand in salute. Commanding his bearers to go, he disappeared through the courtyard arch.

Led by Prince Selim and his page, the new slaves and the prince's Tartars quickly left the city behind. They camped that night beside some ancient ruins, and Firousi had time to catch her breath. As her original journey to the Moonlight Serai had taken three days, she was amazed at the speed with which they now traveled. Of course, on her first trip they had taken the main road and were slowed by the vast caravan of slaves, women, and household goods. Yesterday morning they had ridden out of the palace, taken the more direct and rougher road and arrived outside the capital before sunset On their return trip they were again on the more direct road, but their progress was slowed slightly by the presence of the female slave.

Firousi was enjoying this respite from her friends and their more civilized way of life. Raised in the Caucasus Mountains, she had camped beneath the stars many times with her father and brothers. Gazing at the sky, the subdued noise of the camp behind her, she imagined for a moment she was home again. A touch on her shoulder startled her. Turning, she looked into the face of the prince.

"What do you dream of, Firousi?"

"My homeland, my lord. I often camped with my father beneath the night sky."

"Are you restless in your captivity, my little mountain girl?"

"Perhaps a little, my lord."

"Soon you will have other interests, and your past with its sad memories will fade away." He put an arm about her shoulders.

She smiled up at him. "Yes, my lord."

"Do you love me, Firousi?"

"No, my lord. I do not know you-and perhaps, when I do, I shall still not love you-but I like you. You are a good man and a kind master. I shall, Allah willing, bear your children with pride and always be loyal to you."

He bent down and gravely kissed her on the forehead. "I can ask no more of you than that, but you will will love me, my jewel." love me, my jewel."

"Perhaps, my lord." She laughed up at him. "However, I would suggest we return to camp lest your Tartars obtain the wrong impression about their prince and cla.s.s you with your brother Ahmed, who, they say, prefers young boys to girls."

"One day I shall have you whipped for your teasing tongue. You do not show me the proper respect"

'Yes, my lord," she replied meekly, but her eyes sparkled merrily at his threat Selim glowered at her, then laughed, "You are an appallingly impudent maiden."

Dawn had barely shown itself the next morning when the prince and his companions were on their way. Firousi had dropped back to ride with Marian.

They arrived at their destination shortly after noon. Selim turned his new slaves over to Ali, his chief eunuch. The young English couple presented him with an unusual problem. Married slaves were not a common event, and normal men were not permitted in any other man's harem, Ali was quick to point out a small cottage near the edge of the gardens which might house the couple. The prince gave orders that the little house be made habitable at once.

"When you are not on duty," he told his secretary, "you will live here. You will answer to Turkish names. Alan, you will answer to Yussef. Marian, there will be no need to change your name. We have a similar one, so we can p.r.o.nounce it Yussef will teach you Turkish."

"I already speak some, my lord. My husband taught me.

"How is this possible?"

"Alan-ah, Yussef, was coming to Turkey to be a clerk in the merchant house of a friend. His father has a small trading business in London and wanted him to learn about the East My husband's father says future trade of importance will come from the East Yussef began teaching me Turkish months ago, when he knew we would be coming here. My Turkish is not perfected-as you can see, my lord-but since I shall be using it every day, it soon will be."

"I think I have found a valuable servant in you, Marian. Take good care of my wife, and you will never want for anything."

"I will, my lord I shall never forget that it was your kindness that kept my husband and me together. Had you not rescued us, we would have been separated"

He dismissed them in a kindly fashion and turned to Firousi. "I shall be sending for you soon, my jewel. Slip in through the secret entrance and see that you get all that stain off. I shall personally inspect your lovely skin myself tonight"

She flushed and fled him. He stood for a moment a smile upon his sensual lips as he thought of the delight his gifts would give his beloved Cyra and the pleasure Firousi would give him now that Cyra could no longer share his bed.

17.

LATE THAT AFTERNOON, the women of Selim's harem gathered together in the main room of their quarters. Heavy curtains were drawn across the windows at the end of the room, and in the center of the floor a round, raised open hearth blazed merrily, taking the chill off the late winter's day.

Lady Refet quietly presided over the women while plying her needle through her ever-present embroidery. Amara and Iris were working together on a woven tapestry. Sarina, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by parchments and pens, pored over plans for their first summer garden. Cyra, Firousi, and Zuleika sat around the hearth playing a word game. Each in turn would point to an object and say its name in Turkish. The other two would have to give the same object its name in another tongue-not their own. The three friends were clever at languages, and in this way increased their knowledge.

Cyra's heart leaped at the entrance of the prince's messenger. Then, remembering her condition, she dug her fingernails into her palm. Who would it be? Which one would take her place? His eagerness to take a new ikbal seemed rather indecent to her, and she felt a twinge of anger run through her.

The messenger stood before Firousi, who flushed, then whitened. "Most fortunate of maidens, I have the honor to inform you that our master, Prince Selim, may he live a thousand years, requests your presence tonight at the ninth hour."

"I hear and obey," replied the blond girl in a shaking voice.

The messenger bowed and left the room Their chatter stilled, the other girls looked from Cyra to Firousi and back again. Sarina broke the silence.

"So, our lord grows tired of green eyes."

"But not eager for your yellow ones," snapped Zuleika, squeezing Cyra's hand hard. "Your tongue is no less sharp than the bee's sting."

Cyra broke the tension. "It is not seemly I go to my lord's couch now that I carry his son beneath my heart"

Breaking into an excited babble, they rushed to crowd about her.

"Stop!" laughed Cyra. "I cannot answer your questions if you all talk at once." Immediately they were silent "My son will be born in late summer. I did not tell you before because I wanted to be sure. Then our lord had to be told, and he asked that I keep our secret until he returned from Constantinople."

Firousi began to weep softly, but Cyra placed an arm about her friend's shoulders.

"I know what you are thinking, dear sister. Don't Have you forgotten all we have learned?"

"You do not mind?"

"Of course I mind, but it is our fate. Since our lord Selim must take another, I am happy it is you, rather than some devious stranger who would sow dissension in our household."

"Then you will forgive me my foolishness?"

"It is already forgotten. Would you like to wear my brocade pelisse tonight? It is almost the color of your eyes and will be most flattering. I will have Fekriye take up the hem for you."

Firousi nodded, and a little smile played on her lips. "I am a donkey," she said, "but suddenly I was so afraid."

Cyra took her friend by the hand and led her to a quiet corner of the room, "Let us sit and talk," she said, settling herself on some pillows. "You must not be frightened, Firousi. There is no need. Selim is the gentlest and most considerate of lords."

"But you are his wife."

"I am his ikbal," admonished Cyra gently. "If Allah wills it I shall be his kadin in five months. Do not I beg you, tell me you have fallen back on your European morality? There is no future in it and it is very foolish of you. With luck, this time next year we shall both be nursing sons, who will grow up together, the dearest of friends, as we are. Was it not you who a year ago in Crete told me there is no return?"

Firousi smiled. "You are right, and I should be rejoicing now. What girl does not envy me or would not change places with me? Come." She rose and pulled Cyra up with her. "Help me choose what I shall wear tonight You know our master's taste best of all." And together they hurried off to Firousi's small room "You would think she had been born in the East instead of the West" observed Zuleika softly to Lady Refet "Her courage is great," replied the older woman. "She loves my nephew dearly, and this cannot be easy for her."

Selim chose that moment to visit his harem. Walking in unannounced, he went over to his aunt and kissed her. "Where is Cyra? I have a gift for her."

Lady Refet spoke to the attending slave. "Fetch Lady Cyra at once. Tell her the prince is here."

Cyra came quickly, Firousi following. "My dear lord," she said, bowing low.

"Beloved," he murmured. His eyes caressed her gently. Then, remembering where he was, he spoke. "I have brought you a gift from Constantinople, my love." He clapped his hands, and the head eunuch, Ali, ushered in a group of four people.

Selim drew the one female in the group forward. "This is Marian, sweetheart She is yours. Greet your new mistress in your native tongue, Marian."

"I will try to serve you well, my lady," the girl said.

Cyra's eyes lit up. "Selim! A Borderer! How wonderful! Where on earth did you find her?"

"A Borderer? But she said she was English"

Cyra laughed. "Forgive me, my lord. You could not know. Of course she is English, but she comes from the northernmost of that land, which borders my own country. Both these people, the English Borderers and the Scots Borderers, sound very much alike. Had you brought me a London girl, I should have been hard pressed to understand her."

"Do not the English and the Scots speak with the same tongue?"

"The people of Magnesia speak Turkish, yet do they sound the same as those of Constantinople?"

"I see. Then she pleases you?"

"Yes, my lord. We Scots and English have been known to fight, but so far from home a fellow islander is welcome. Is it not so, Marian?"

"Yes, my lady."