“By the beard of the Prophet,” replied the soldier, “old Selim gets generous with the pretty goods.” He thought for a moment “Say, Abu. How would you like to make some money? Now you’re a free man, you’ve got to think of the future.”
“What do I have to do?”
The soldier drew the little man aside, then whispered to him.
“Well, it’s fine with me, but I warn you, all she does is kick and scream. I had to tie her down.”
“A fighter, eh? It adds more spice. Wait here while I get my comrades.”
He returned in a twinkling with five other soldiers. Each placed a small purse in the dung sweeper’s hand. Abu turned to Shannez. “Get back inside.”
“But your food—” She stopped and looked wildly about for a means of escape. There was none.
“I’ll fetch my own food. Get inside!”
Shannez tried to run, but the soldiers laughingly caught her and dragged her into the stables as Abu walked away.
The two women stood on the roof for a moment; then Zuleika spoke over the screams coming from below them “Let us go. I am satisfied.”
Silently the kadins moved down the stairs and across the stableyard. The little door closed with a quiet click on Shannez’s shame and anguish. Zuleika Kadin never again spoke of her past.
31
THE SULTAN RETURNED to Constantinople with eight hundred and fifty camels and five hundred donkeys laden with gold, silver, precious jewels, and other booty. The slaves numbered over ten thousand. The boundaries of the Ottoman Empire had been widened by the annexation of Diyarbekir and Kurdistan. The Persian campaign had been very successful.
In his wake, Selim left the bodies of forty thousand Shiites who had been massacred because they refused to return to the pure form of Mohammedanism. The young shah was so horrified by this act that he was never known to smile again.
The Turks had wintered in the shah’s capital of Tabriz. The annexation of Persian territory had occurred in the spring of the year 1515, with the return to Constantinople coming in early autumn of the same year.
The kadins had agreed on one thing—never again would they accompany their lord on campaign. They had missed Constantinople, they had missed Firousi and Sarina, but most of all, they had missed the children. With the death of three of Selim’s sons, the family became more important to them than ever before.
For a time, the sultan’s mood was as of old The treasury building, begun in the time of Selim’s grandfather, Mohammed the Conqueror, had been completed to the sultan’s satisfaction. It was ready to receive the vast treasure he had brought with him from Persia. The gold was put in huge iron coffers, which were then placed in a vault beneath the treasury. The jewels and other booty were placed in the main rooms. The silver was dispersed among the various palace treasuries for the payment of accounts. A register was made, listing everything brought back, and finally the door of the treasury was sealed with the imperial seal of Selim I.
Selim said on that day, “I have filled the treasury with gold. If any of my successors fills it with copper, let the treasury be sealed with his seal If not, let them continue to seal it with my seal.”
The sultan now turned his mind to other matters, the first of which was his eldest son. Suleiman, Gulbehar, and their court were being sent to Magnesia, where the prince would govern the province for his father. It was to be a test of the heir and his abilities.
Prince Mohammed would go to Erzurum in the same capacity. Prince Murad, Cyra’s third son, who was now sixteen, and Sarina’s thirteen-year-old son, Bajazet, were sent to a distant army barracks for further training.
Of the sultan’s living sons, there were but three left in Constantinople. Prince Karim, the baby, would remain with his mother; but Firousi’s Hassan and Zuleika’s Nureddin, aged eleven and ten, were removed from the harem and given their own households.
The kadins were not happy at this last of the sultan’s orders. They did not trust the morals of the younger eunuchs, and both princes were fresh-faced children. Spies from the harem were quickly introduced into the boys’ quarters so their mothers might be kept fully informed and be able to protect their sons should the need arise.
The sultan’s next move was in the direction of his daughters. Hale and Guzel were now sixteen and practically past marriageable age. However, in this area Selim was pliable. The girls would marry, but not a foreigner, and the choice would be theirs.
Selim, ever indulgent toward his twin daughters, allowed them, heavily veiled and concealed behind a viewing screen, to see the selection of prospective husbands. Half a dozen were picked from the chosen list, and the others dismissed. The twins were then informed in detail of each man’s qualifications. Finally the sultan announced that his daughters would marry the eighteen-and nineteen-year-old sons of Pasha Ismet ben Orman, a valued servant and soldier of the Ottoman Empire.
The marriages were celebrated almost immediately. Pasha Ismet had grown rich in the service of the Ottoman government, and in his delight at having as daughters-in-law not just one princess but two, he provided his sons with adjoining white marble palaces overlooking the Bosporus.
Each palace—of one hundred rooms—was set in a garden filled to overflowing with flowering shrubs and trees of every known kind. There were simulated streams, ponds, and tiled pools. The mother of the bridegrooms obtained an audience with Firousi Kadin so she might learn the decorative preferences of the princesses. They must be happy.
At the marriage ceremony, Hale and Guzel were represented by the aging agha kislar, who took their vows for them. The wedding feast, which was held in a hall of the Yeni Serai, lasted three days. It was here that the sons of Pasha Ismet first met their brides.
After the feasting ended the first night, the two girls quietly left the hall with the other women of the harem. Only the kadins and the brides’ personal slaves were permitted in the adjoining nuptial chambers, where the two maidens were bathed and carefully examined to be sure they were completely free of all body hair. Sheer night garments were placed upon them, and their hair was brushed and perfumed with musk.
The ladies then withdrew, each wishing Hale and Guzel the traditional blessing, “May you know only joy.” In the anteroom outside, the bridegrooms waited, for they could not enter the wedding chamber of their royal brides until called. An imperial son-in-law had few privileges, and his position was firmly established on the wedding night Hale and Guzel had agreed that in defense of maidenly modesty they would keep their new husbands waiting two hours. So Hussein and Riza waited nervously for a summons from their new wives.
In Cyra’s salon, Firousi wept The other kadins tried to comfort her. “They’re so young,” she sobbed.
“Nonsense,” said Cyra briskly. “You were two years younger on your nuptial night Guzel and Hale have had the good fortune to choose their own husbands, and the young men are already enchanted and enamored of their young brides. They will all be very happy.”
Firousi sniffed. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes! And I think you had also better stop weeping. What scandal there will be at tomorrow’s feast if you appear with red and swollen eyes.”
Later that night, Selim came to Cyra’s apartment. He was happier than he had been in a long time and was feeling expansive and talkative. He was pleased with the wedding, pleased with his daughters, pleased with his sons-in-law, and considering marrying Nilufer off next.
Cyra protested, “My dearest lord, she is but twelve and has not even reached sexual maturity. Surely you will not marry her off for a few more years.”
“She could be married now, but not given to her husband until she matures. There are several men who would be suitable and whom I would like to bind closer to the empire.”
“Never will I allow you to use my daughter as a political pawn! Would you deny her the freedom of choice that you allowed Firousi’s daughters?”
“It was different for the twins. They have been close all their lives and would
have suffered terribly if they had been separated. It is for this reason alone that I allowed them to choose whom they would wed.”
“You cannot wed Nilufer to a stranger. She already loves a certain young man, and has since she was a child.”
“How can that be? Whom have you allowed to break the sanctity of my harem to meet secretly with my daughter?”
“No one. They first met when we lived at the Moonlight Serai.”
“But she was just a child then, and aside from her brothers, there were no men allowed in the harem at the Moonlight Serai.”
“You are forgetting young Ibrahim.”
“Nilufer loves Ibrahim? Impossible! She has not seen him since she was seven.”
“I beg to correct you, my love, but she has. You permitted our daughter the freedom of Suleiman’s court, and Ibrahim was a frequent visitor. When you sent our son to govern Magnesia, Ibrahim went with him. Nilufer has been heartbroken and sullen ever since. She loves Ibrahim!”
“It is but a childish fancy. She will get over it.”
“If she is childish, then you will agree that she is too young to be wed,” said Cyra quietly.
Selim threw up his hands. “You have trapped me as neatly as the hunter the hare, beloved. I bow to your wisdom and cleverness.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “And you will consider Ibrahim as a suitor in a few years’ time?”
“Perhaps.”
“You have named Suleiman your heir. Ibrahim is his best friend, and someday—may Allah grant it be many years hence—our son will be sultan. I am sure that he will name Ibrahim his grand vizier. If Suleiman’s sister—his full sister—is wed to his grand vizier, our son’s interests will be well served.”
Selim smiled slowly. “Were you a man, my beloved, I might make you my grand vizier.”
“I am far happier being a woman, your bas-kadin, and the mother of your children.”
He softly stroked her long hair. “Ah, my beloved! If only I had a friend like Ibrahim to serve me. Perhaps I was hasty in dismissing my vizier, Cem Pasha.”
“Dismissing him? You had his head lopped off—which was just a bit ungrateful, considering how well he ran the government while you were in Persia.”
“Perhaps, my sweet, but when I returned, the late vizier was loath to relinquish his power. I forgave him, but he continued to try to usurp my power. He had to be punished. Beheading him seemed the quickest solution. Now I discover this old man that I replaced him with is a doddering fool!”
“Ali Akbar has served the government well over the years. Retire him honorably, my lord. You have had five grand viziers since you took up the sword of Ayub. Four have been beheaded. This old man’s only fault is his many years. Do not overlook the many good services he has performed. Already the people speak openly in the streets of your harshness.”
“What do they say?”
“I will tell you only if you will grant me forgiveness beforehand.”
“It is granted.”
“A most popular curse these days among our people is ‘May you be vizier to Sultan Selim!’”
He grimaced. “I will retire Ali Akbar with honors, but whom shall I choose to replace rum?”
“Piri Pasha,” she answered.
“Not another old man! Never! Piri Pasha was in Constantinople when my grandfather, the conqueror, captured iL He has seen more than sixty winters.”
“Piri Pasha is no Ali Akbar. He is an administrative genius. He is a man without vices, has no delusions of power, and has always put his duty to the government above everything—even his personal life. You need him, especially since you plan to go to Egypt”
“Will you come with me?”
“No, my love. Not unless you command it On campaign you are a different person, not the Selim I know and love. My lord is the poet the father, the gentleman—not the stern sultan and fierce soldier. The soldier has little need of my softness. I can be of no use to you if I go with you to Egypt but here in Constantinople I am your eyes and ears. Who can tell you the truth as I do?”
He kissed her lightly. “And what will you do besides be my eyes and ears?”
“Why, see to the harem and the children. Nilufer will be thirteen come spring, and there are things I would teach her that her tutors cannot. My little Karim has not yet reached the age where he can do without his mother, though he grows more each day.”
“He is so like you, beloved. Of all my sons he is the least like a Turk, but we shall change that as he grows older. Has he not already accompanied his father on one campaign?”
“If he grows older,” she said softly.
Selim, however, did not hear her, for his mind had turned from Cyra to the second step in his plan to become the head of all Islam. He would shortly take his army out again, and this time his objectives would be the holy cities of Mecca and Medina; then on to Egypt and his “rescue” of the caliph. He would take Cyra’s advice and appoint Piri Pasha as grand vizier. Her instinct about people was always good. Free from worry on the home front he could concentrate on the campaign.
Knowing how secure he felt Cyra let him go without telling him about Hadji Bey.
The agha kislar was dying, and all the residents of the Eski Serai knew it, and wept There was no one in the harem from the humblest slave girl to the bas-kadin who did not love and honor this wise old man. Hadji Bey had served the House of Osman since the age of nine. He was now seventy-one years of age. He had lived through the reigns of Mohammed the Conqueror, Bajazet and Selim I, and had hoped to see Suleiman rule. Now he knew that Allah had not wished it so, and he sent for Cyra.
For the first time in all her years in Turkey, she entered the apartments of the grand eunuch. She was surprised to find them so simply furnished, for the agha’s taste in clothing had always been elegant if a trifle flamboyant.
The bedchamber was dimly lit and the curtains drawn. Hadji Bey lay on his couch. Unlike the average eunuch, he had never become fat and now his lean body seemed to have shrunk beneath the coverlets. An attendant set a stool by the agha.
Seating herself, Cyra told the slave, “Disturb us only in case of emergency.” The man nodded and left them.
“Well, my daughter,” said the agha, his voice weakened, “it is almost time for the thread of my life to be cut …” She made a small gesture of protest but he took her hand in his and patted it Cyra noted the once-slim fingers had become like a bird’s talons. “No, my daughter, do not grieve. My only regret is that I shall not live to see Suleiman sultan. This is what I must speak to you of now. There is danger ahead for him. He has too many brothers.”
“How can you say this, old friend? My beloved lord Selim once had ten sons, but Omar is dead, Kasim and Abdullah killed at Chaldiran, and now my son Murad fallen in Syria. Only six remain. Selim needs his sons.”
“But Suleiman does not” replied Hadji Bey. “My child, you, the brightest of my pupils, cannot see the truth for the secure and rosy mist before your eyes. Selim will live only a few more years. Yes! It is true, Cyra! The thing that eats at his guts will soon have gorged itself, and the sultan’s life will be snuffed out. Suleiman is heir, but once Selim is dead, this bond that has kept the kadins united all these years will dissolve. Mohammed is but four months younger than Suleiman. He is charming, gay, and popular. Do you think little Firousi would not advance her son’s cause? And the fierce Zuleika? You think her incapable of the same thing? Sarina with her one son is as capable as the other two. When Selim joins his ancestors in Paradise, all his sons but Suleiman must be there to greet him.”
“No!”
“It must be done, my daughter! This advice is my only legacy to you.”
“Have you forgotten my little Karim, Hadji Bey? Do you think I could destroy him? Do you think I would permit either Selim or Suleiman to destroy him? Never! We did not bear our children to have them murdered to insure the succession. The slaughter of brothers must be stopped!”
“You will destroy Suleiman, Cyra. As bas-kadin,
you have power. As sultan valideh, you will have more power, but even that power has its limits. You will not be able to prevent malcontents from using Karim and his brothers against Suleiman—and they will! You must begin to act now!”
“I cannot, Hadji Bey! I cannot!” She began to cry softly.
The old man raised himself slowly and painfully. “I did not pick you off the auction block in Candia, protect you, train you, and raise you to such heights to have you fail me now. For all but nine years of my life the House of Osman has been my house! I saved it from Prince Ahmed and his mother. I will not let your sentimental weakness destroy it! I am not asking you to dispose of Selim’s sons personally, but they must go! If they do not, Suleiman will be forced to destroy them himself. From his birth he has been told he will be sultan, and if I know Suleiman, he will be!” With this, the agha fell back among the pillows.
Cyra held a cup of cool water to his lips. “I will do everything to protect Suleiman, Hadji Bey, but there must be something else we can do besides kill them. Let me think on it before I make a final decision.”
The old man nodded. “Now, my child, I ask two final favors of you. First, will you forgive me my harshness of today?”
“A thousand times over. In my heart I remember the man who sired me, but it is you who have been my father since my thirteenth year. How could I be angry at you for speaking the truth to me?”
Hadji Bey smiled up at her with a trace of his old self. “Daughter of my heart, you warm this old man’s bones. The second favor I ask is that you sit by me until I sleep.” She nodded. “Cyra, my daughter, be brave, be strong, and let nothing deter you from your goal Suleiman will be a great sultan, but you will be a greater valideh!” Taking her hand, he closed his dark eyes, the sound of his strained breathing the only discordant note in the room.
She sat for several hours by his side; perhaps she dozed for a few minutes. Suddenly she became aware of the deep silence around her. Taking a small mirror on a chain from about her waist, she held it to his nostrils. The face of the glass remained clear.
The Kadin Page 28