Love Wild and Fair

by Bertrice Small

  The tavern keeper grinned toothily. "Aye, me lord! October ale it is! I makes it and casks it meself each year. 'Tis no easy task in this place!"

  Bothwell sat down. He didn't feel particularly hungry, but suddenly the scent of the beef began to work its magic on him and he reached for the salt. Half an hour later he pushed back his chair and said, "Thank you, Conall."

  The captain nodded. "I've taken the liberty," he said, "of asking Master Kira to see you. He'll be waiting for us now, my lord."

  "Can he help?"

  "Possibly, my lord. The Kiras' main banking branch and their family head are both located in Istanbul."

  Bothwell rose and paid the landlord. The man gaped at the generous coin in his hand. "Thank ye, sir," he babbled. "Anytime we can serve the border lord, we're proud to do so!"

  But Bothwell had already mounted and was riding towards the Jewish section of the city, and Pietro Kira's house. Conall smiled, pleased that he had roused the earl from self-pity. They reached the Kira dwelling and were quickly ushered into the best salon. Servants hurried in with wine and biscuits.

  Then came Pietro Kira, elegant in a long, fur-trimmed black gown, a large gold chain and pendant hanging about his neck and shoulders. He grasped Lord Bothwell's hand, saying, "I am so sorry to receive you under these circumstances, my lord. Let us sit down. You will tell me everything that you know."

  The earl repeated what he had learned from young May, and from Angela di LiCosa. "Yes," nodded the banker, "we knew all of that, but it is good to have it confirmed. We have already sent a message to the head of the family in Istanbul. Do not be afraid for your wife, my lord. She has friends about her, and when the time is right we will contact her. She is a brave and resourceful lady."

  "I would go to Istanbul as soon as possible, Signor Kira."

  "Indeed you would, my lord, but you must not. At least not yet. Not until we have ascertained that the countess has arrived, is safe, and has been contacted by our people. For you to show up in the sultan's capital demanding your wife's return would be absolutely fatal to you and possibly also to your wife.

  "Sultan Mohammed is a strange man given to alternating moods of great kindness and unbelievable cruelty. He is deeply fond of his vizier. If Cicalazade Pasha is taken with your beautiful wife and you arrive to demand her back, you could find yourself quickly dead, my lord. Let us move slowly and carefully. The countess is quite safe. It would not serve Cicalazade Pasha's purpose to hurt her."

  "But how will I get her back, Pietro Kira? How?"

  "When we know what we must regarding your wife's position, then we can plan, my lord. It may be possible to ransom her. More likely, we will have to abduct her. In the meantime, please return to your home and wait to hear from me. And, my lord, I think you should know that your wife's monies are at your complete disposal. Prior to her arrival here in Naples she arranged with the House of Kira that you and your children should inherit her wealth should anything befall her."

  Bothwell looked pained. "I cannot touch a penny-piece of her money," he said.

  Conall said quietly, "Ye'll need gold for the running of the household, my lord. Why not simply have all the bills sent to Signor Kira? He will keep a strict accounting. I know ye would ne'er take her wealth for yourself. But lord, man, yer her husband, and she'd nae thank me if I let ye starve to death afore she comes home!"

  Bothwell nodded sadly, absently. "Whatever ye think is right, Conall. I leave it to ye."

  Conall turned again to the banker. "Your messengers are swifter than ours, sir. Will you see that the young Earl of Glenkirk is informed that my lady's children are to remain safely with him until further notice? She had sent a message asking that they be sent out to her, but now, of course, 'tis impossible."

  "We will see to it, captain," said Pietro Kira, already thinking about the message he would be sending to his uncle in the Ottoman capital.

  Istanbul was the home of the Kira family. Once a small merchant family of Jews, they had, thanks to their matriarch Esther Kira, risen to become one of the most powerful banking houses in all of Europe and Asia.

  Esther Kira had been born in 1490. At six, she and her small brother, Joseph, were orphaned and taken into the house of their father's oldest brother. At twelve, Esther was peddling hard-to-obtain merchandise to the harem ladies of the rich. At sixteen, she was allowed entry to the imperial harem, and at twenty, her family's fortune was made when she met Cyra Hafise, mother of Suleiman the Magnificent. When Sultan Suleiman ascended the throne in 1520, Esther Kira and her family were forever exempted from the paying of taxes for services rendered the crown. No one, including Esther's family, ever knew what those services were, but it would have been unthinkable to question the imperial word.

  Considered of value now by her uncle, Esther was married off to his younger son. When her only brother-in-law died childless, it was Esther's sons who inherited the now-great banking house. That was only just, since it was Esther's efforts that had brought the Kiras their stunning success.

  Just as Esther had been a favorite of Suleiman's mother, she became the favorite of Suleiman's favorite wife, Khurrem Kadin. and of Selim II's favorite, Nur-U-Banu, and of Murad I’ll's favorite, Safiye. Safiye was the mother of the present sultan. Esther Kira was now in her hundred and eighth year, showed no signs of slowing down, and enjoyed nothing more than a good intrigue. The times, she often complained, were not nearly as exciting as they had once been.

  The current head of the House of Kira was Esther's fifty-three-year-old grandson, Eli, eldest son of her eldest son, Solomon, who had recently died in his mid-eighties. Eli Kira was confused as to what Cousin Pietro expected of him. He had, after all, never even slightly circumvented the law. let alone contemplated breaking it entirely by stealing a woman from someone else's harem. Obedient, however, to the lesson drummed into him since childhood, he immediately consulted with his grandmother.

  The once lustrous dark hair was now snow-white, but the currant-black eyes had lost none of their sparkle. Had Cat's great-grandmother Cyra Hafise still been alive, she would easily have recognized her old friend. "I will," she told her worried grandson, "pay a call upon Lateefa Sultan. If this woman is indeed in the harem of Cicalazade Pasha, the princess will know." She chuckled richly. "And if this woman is anything like my lady Cyra…" She stopped, and the chuckle became a cackle of laughter. "Aiiiiii! May Yahweh have mercy on the poor vizier!" This information did nothing to reassure Eli Kira of the wisdom of his course, but he was a man of scrupulous honor, and his family's success was due to this woman's family. Therefore he owed her, and he would pay the debt.

  Lateefa Sultan was delighted to see Esther Kira. "It has been much too long," she said, settling the old woman comfortably, and directing the slavewomen to bring sweet sherbets and the sticky paste candy that she remembered Esther loved.

  "I am old beyond time, my child," said Esther Kira, "and it is not often I go to see friends. My strength is not as it once was."

  Lateefa Sultan cocked her head to one side. "You know that I am delighted you are here," she said, "yet I do not fool myself that you have expended your precious strength on a mere social call."

  The old woman nodded. "A new woman has recently been introduced into your husband's harem."

  "There are many new women, Esther. They come weekly."

  "Do not play word games with me, my child. I was old before you were born. You know the one of whom I speak."

  "Incili," said Lateefa quietly. "I am quite sure you mean Incili."

  "What do you know of this woman, my princess?"

  "Very little, Esther. She was sent to my lord by his sister. He is besotted with her." Here Lateefa paused a moment. "It is not common knowledge yet, Esther, but Cicalazade Pasha has-with my permission, of course-taken Incili as his second wife."

  Esther Kira sucked in her breath sharply. "Then it must be she whom I seek. Will you introduce me to her, Lateefa Sultan?"

  "Who is she, Esther? How do you know o
f her?"

  As they were alone, Esther decided to take the princess into her confidence. She would need her aid. "She was born a noblewoman in her own land," said the old lady. "Her first husband was a great lord of their country, her second a greater lord. She is beloved by her own king, who wanted her for his mistress. She is admired by the French king, who would have been delighted had she remained at his court. And more, Lateefa Sultan. What I would tell you now must remain a secret even from the Lord Cicalazade. Do you agree to it?" The princess nodded. "Your husband's second wife is a great-granddaughter of Cyra Hafise herself. Eighty years ago I smuggled the youngest of Cyra Hafise's and Selim I's sons, Prince Karim, out of the Eski Serai. I put him aboard a ship bound for Scotland. He was accompanied by my brother, Joseph.

  "The little prince was six years old, and the last of Selim's sons other than his full older brother, Suleiman. Cyra Hafise was afraid that the child would be a rallying point for malcontents when her husband died and Suleiman ascended the throne. She did not want him killed. Though Suleiman loved his little brother, he would eventually have had to dispose of the boy if his own reign was to stay trouble-free.

  "An epidemic of plague struck the city that summer, and Cyra Hafise and I arranged that it appear the little prince had the disease. She took him into isolation. After several days I smuggled the dead body of a child the same size as Prince Karim to her, and I took the living child out the same way. The long-decayed bones resting in the grave of Prince Karim are those of a poor, nameless boy.

  "And that, my child, is why the Kiras were exempted from paying taxes when Sultan Suleiman became our ruler. Neither he, nor his father, nor anyone else in this land knew that Prince Karim lived. And in Cyra Hafise's homeland of Scotland, only my brother, Joseph, a priest, and Cyra Hafise's brother and father knew the child's true parentage."

  Lateefa's eyes were wide in amazement, and old Esther Kira laughed. "There is more, my child! That was just the beginning of the intrigue. If you were to open the coffin of the great Cyra Hafise herself, you would find naught but stones! Twice Suleiman's favorite wife, Khurrem-may Allah curse her memory-tried to poison my dear lady. My lady Cyra knew but two ways to stop her. Either she had to go, or Khurrem had to go. Cyra Hafise's one weakness was that she loved her son too well. She feigned her own death, and returned to her homeland. Before she did so, however, she told Sultan Suleiman that he must be on his guard against Khurrem in the future. He wept and made a great protest at her secret going, but he heeded her not. Khurrem was later responsible for the deaths of Suleiman's two best sons-Prince Mustafa and Prince Bajazet. This left the misfit Selim II to inherit the Ottoman Empire.

  "Do you know the day when Cyra Hafise actually died? On the very same day that Sultan Suleiman did! And Incili is a great-granddaughter of Cyra Hafise and Sultan Selim, and a granddaughter of Prince Karim, as you are a great-granddaughter of Firousi Kadin and Sultan Selim, and a granddaughter of Guzel Sultan." The old woman cackled and nodded her head. "Lateefa Sultan and Incili share more than a husband!"

  "Does she know of her imperial ancestry, Esther?"

  "I do not know that, my princess, but I would imagine she knows at least some of it."

  "Then why has she not spoken?"

  "Possibly because she was not sure how to use the information. She has probably not yet decided how to escape from here."

  "Escape? Good heavens, Esther! Why would she want to escape from here? My lord is madly in love with her, and she has every luxury money can buy."

  "She does not have her freedom, my child. In her land women are free to roam as they please. As for luxury, she is a fabulously wealthy woman in her own right. But most important of all… when she was stolen away she was a bride of two months, wed to a man she has loved deeply for many years. He reciprocates her feelings, and it has been all my nephew in Naples can do to keep him from coming with a rescue force to retrieve her. You must help me to aid her in escaping, Lateefa Sultan."

  "I would never deliberately do anything to harm my lord Cica. He loves Incili as he has never loved anyone -even me. I do not want him hurt."

  "Listen to me, my child. If Incili is one-tenth the woman her great-grandmother was, she will try to escape. She will die trying rather than be separated forever from her true husband. Will that not hurt your lord Cica more? He is a proud man, and if he is openly scorned by this woman, it will hurt him more. Until now you have held the place of honor in your husband's heart and household. But if Incili remains, he will soon put her above you. Your royal family will be publicly shamed, which means the sultan will become involved. Who knows what he will do?"

  Lateefa Sultan looked wretchedly uncomfortable for a moment. Then she clapped her hands and a slave entered. "Go to the lady Incili, and tell her that Lateefa Sultan has an old friend visiting whom she would like to present to her."

  When the slave had left the room, Lateefa turned to Esther Kira. "I have met her only once, but she is charming. I know that Cica will not accept a ransom for her. I have never seen him this way about any woman. He bitterly resents any time spent away from her."

  "And how do you think she feels?" asked the old woman.

  "In public she is quite reserved, but obedient. How she behaves in the privacy of her bedchamber I do not know. She has made no effort to make friends with anyone, and will be served only by her own servant, who came with her. The other women of the harem are fearfully jealous of her. She is extravagantly beautiful, Esther. She even makes me a little jealous."

  Esther Kira smiled a little smile of remembrance. "Her great-grandmother," she said, "was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Her hair was the most fantastic red-gold, and her eyes were green-gold! Sultan Selim worshipped her and, strangely, his other three wives loved her too. Ahhh, my child! Those were the good days! Sultan Selim's four kadins were unselfish women, devoted to the preservation of the dynasty and the empire. Not like those creatures living in the Yeni Serai today who scheme for themselves alone.

  "It began, you know, with that wicked Khurrem, and continues right down to the sultan's own mother, Safiye, who today fights with not only her son's favorite, but her grandson's as well! The sultans were once strong, and great warriors even as your own husband, Cicalazade Pasha. It is wicked wives and mothers who have ruined them!" the old woman finished passionately.

  As her words died, the door to the apartment opened and a woman entered. She nodded pleasantly to the princess, saying, "Good afternoon, Lateefa Sultan. I have come at your request, and I thank you for including me in your party." Then the green eyes settled on Esther Kira, widened for a moment, and then grew puzzled. The visitor said softly, "But it cannot be."

  "But it is!" the old woman chortled triumphantly. "I am one hundred and eight years old, great-granddaughter of Cyra Hafise. She must have described me very well if you recognize me."

  "You are really Esther Kira?"

  "Yes, child, I am. And Lateefa Sultan is your cousin, for she is the great-granddaughter of my lady Cyra's dearest friend, Firousi Kadin, who was your mutual great-grandfather's second wife. Come, my daughters, you must be friends-as they were."

  The two younger woman looked at each other for a moment, and then Lateefa held out her hands to Cat. "Come, Incili. If I am to help you we should be friends, and trust one another."

  Cat took the two hands in her own. "I have been very frightened," she said. "Now I no longer need be, knowing that I have friends. Thank you, Lateefa, and you also, Esther Kira."

  "Ah, child," said Esther Kira, "how much like my lady Cyra you are when you smile. But otherwise, I should not know you."

  "They say I look like my great-grandmother's mother," she replied.

  The three women sat down around a low table, and the old lady leaned forward. "Your husband, my dear, is still safe in Naples, though restraining him and your captain-at-arms has not been easy. If you will please write and reassure him I will see that the letter is safely delivered. We have yet to come up with a plan for
your escape. But, be patient. We will."

  "My tiring woman was captured with me, Esther, and she must return with me. I cannot leave her behind."

  Esther Kira shrugged philosophically. "One is impossible, two is only slightly more impossible."

  Suddenly the doors flew open and Cicalazade Pasha strode into their midst. Lateefa and Cat rose quickly and bowed prettily. "Esther Kira!" boomed the vizier. "They told me you had ventured out, old friend. What brings you to my house?"

  "I came to see the new beauty who has won your crusty heart, my lord. And Lateefa Sultan tells me the rumors in the city are true. You have taken a second wife. I have spent a pleasant time this afternoon being cosseted by your wives and having a good gossip."

  The vizier beamed and put a possessive arm about each of the two young women. "The sultan himself would envy me my luck, eh, Esther? Is my Lateefa not sweet?" The princess gazed adoringly at her husband, who glanced fondly but briefly at her before turning hungry eyes on Cat. "And is my Incili not a rare and perfect jewel?"

  Esther Kira saw the steel in the smile Cat turned on Cicalazade Pasha, and the tenseness of her body. This woman is a survivor, she thought to herself. We will get her safely to her husband.

  She signaled to a slave, who helped her to her feet. "I must go, my dears. It has been a lovely visit." She turned to the vizier. "You will let your wives come to visit with me, will you not, my lord?"

  "Of course, Esther, of course! In fact, I believe my Incili would enjoy being able to visit in the city. She chafes at confinement, don't you, my dove?"

  "A bit, my lord Cica," came the soft-spoken reply.

  "Then I will tell Hammid you both have my permission to shop and visit in the city whenever you want- provided, of course, that you go in a closed litter, and are chaperoned." Though he spoke to them both he saw only Cat. "Come. Incili," he said, "I desire your presence." He looked again at Esther. "You honor my house, my friend. Thank you for coming. Lateefa will arrange a proper escort for you. Come, Incili!" And he and Cat were gone.