Captive of the Harem

Home > Romance > Captive of the Harem > Page 7
Captive of the Harem Page 7

by Anne Herries


  in the palace…an old crone who had long since been put to

  work in the kitchens. She must be fetched and told to wait on

  her new mistress, and the older women must take care of

  Eleanor…prepare her for her new life.

  He was not yet sure what her new life was to be. If she was

  not to be given to the Sultan he must find another gift…

  something rare and unusual that would pacify their ilustrious

  master. For the moment he had other things on his mind. She

  would come to no harm within the palace—and he would have

  her sent for when he was ready to decide what to do with her.

  Eleanor looked round the large chamber, which was the main

  one used by the harem for relaxing, talking and, perhaps, in the

  case of those concubines who did not have their own rooms,

  sleeping. There were divans covered in silks and satins, and piled

  with cushions for taking one’s ease, also little tables on which

  were placed what looked like dishes of nuts and sweetmeats,

  fountains that played into smal pools and various chests or

  cabinets. One girl was strumming on a musical instrument, the

  music strange and sounding off key to Eleanor.

  The women gathered in smal groups, talking, whispering and

  looking at her curiously. None of them had as yet approached

  her though she had been sitting on a cushion since the old woman

  had brought her here and then vanished.

  What was she supposed to do? After the terror of her

  capture and the drama of that ride to the palace, it al felt rather

  like an anti-climax, simply sitting here watching several lovely

  like an anti-climax, simply sitting here watching several lovely

  women idle the hours away. One girl was brushing the hair of

  another and braiding it with flowers or ribbons, others were

  painting their toenails with some kind of a dye—and one was

  having her body painted with a pattern in some black stuff.

  At the far end of the room, Eleanor could see there was a

  door leading out to what looked like pleasant gardens. Was she

  alowed to go out there? She had certainly had enough of sitting

  here by herself. Oh, wel, if it was forbidden, someone would

  stop her. She got up and wandered towards the door, thinking

  that the floors of mosaic tiling were very beautiful, as were some

  of the pierced screens that were painted in bright colours of red,

  blue and gold.

  No one shouted at her to stop, so she went out into the

  garden. It was evening now and quite dark, but there were

  lanterns hanging amongst the trees and she was able to find her

  way along a winding path towards the sound of water. She found

  a stone seat by a pretty pool and sat down, staring into the

  darkness. Was she realy going to be forced to spend the rest of

  her life in a place like this? If she were reduced to living the way the other women did, she would go mad.

  Tears came to her eyes as she thought of her father and

  brother, and the evenings they had spent playing games of skil

  together. Her poor father! Her throat closed with emotion. How

  could she bear to live without the two people she loved most in

  the world?

  Where was Richard? She had not seen him since they were

  both captured and did not even know if he were stil alive. His

  both captured and did not even know if he were stil alive. His

  fate was probably far worse than hers! She thought that he might

  have been tortured or beaten. Poor, poor Richard! She prayed

  that he was not in pain or desperately afraid. He was only a

  youth, and he would have had no chance against his captors. Her

  head went up as she renewed her vow not to give way to self-

  pity or despair. She would fight to survive and somehow she

  would win her freedom one day.

  ‘Are you there, my lady?’

  The sound of a woman’s voice speaking to her in English

  brought her head up. How could that be? The old woman that

  had first taken charge of Eleanor and then abandoned her had

  not understood when she had tried to talk to her.

  ‘Who are you? Please come forward.’

  A woman stepped out of the shadows and approached

  diffidently. She was obviously quite old, her face lined and her

  hair deeply streaked with grey.

  ‘I am Morna, my lady. I came to the palace many years ago

  as a gift to the Caliph, but he was never interested in me as one

  of his concubines because I was not beautiful. I was sent to the

  kitchens and I have worked there ever since.’

  ‘Morna?’ Eleanor looked at her. ‘I do not think I have ever

  heard that name before—it is pretty.’

  ‘My mother was English, but my father came from the hils of

  Wales,’ Morna replied. ‘I think it is an ancient Celtic name,

  though I cannot be sure.’ She smiled at Eleanor. ‘I am sorry

  Shorah deserted you earlier. I do not think she knew what to do

  Shorah deserted you earlier. I do not think she knew what to do

  with you, so she left you with the other concubines—and they

  ignored you because they were not sure why you were there

  either. It is dangerous to form relationships in the harem unless

  you know the status of those you befriend.’

  ‘Shorah—that is the old woman who took charge of me? I

  think she could not understand what I said to her.’

  ‘No, she understands only her native tongue,’ Morna replied.

  ‘When I was told you were here I was not sure I would

  remember how to speak English. It is so long since I have used

  our language—but as you see, it came back to me.’

  ‘Have you been here many years?’

  ‘Oh, yes, much of my life has been spent in this palace. But I

  am fortunate. I am not important, merely a servant—so I am

  alowed to come and go as I please. I visit the market to buy

  food and trinkets for the women sometimes. They repay me by

  giving me some of their food—so I live very wel.’

  ‘Can you help me to leave the palace?’ Eleanor asked

  eagerly. ‘Is there any way I could escape?’

  ‘They would kil us both if you tried to leave,’ Morna told her

  gravely. ‘It seems that you have caught the eye of the Caliph’s

  son. You are to be given your own rooms and I am to wait upon

  you—as befits a lady of your rank.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Eleanor asked. ‘Am I to stay here,

  then? I thought…’ She let the words die unspoken. Roxana had

  told her she would be lucky if Suleiman Bakhar kept her for

  himself, and she was beginning to believe that that might be the

  case. Better a young, inteligent master who spoke her tongue

  case. Better a young, inteligent master who spoke her tongue

  and might just be persuaded to let her go home, than the Sultan

  who would scarcely notice her amongst his other women. ‘No, it

  does not matter. You could not know what is in his mind. Please take me to my rooms. I am tired and I should like to sleep now.’

  ‘Would you like me to bring you food from the kitchens?’

  Morna asked, sounding eager. ‘Surely you are hungry, my lady?’

  Eleanor was about to reply that she had eaten earlier
and was

  not hungry, but she realised that Morna might not get enough to

  eat and was hoping that some of her mistress’s food might be left

  for her.

  ‘Yes, bring me something,’ she said. ‘You can share it with

  me.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady. You are generous.’

  Eleanor nodded, but did not reply. She supposed there were

  probably hundreds of servants in this vast palace, which

  sprawled over a large area of land and consisted of a mass of

  different buildings. Many of the slaves were probably forced to

  live on the scraps left by others. The world was a cruel place,

  especialy for slaves, and she was angry that people like the

  Caliph and his arrogant son believed they had the right to

  dispose of the lives of others as they chose.

  ‘Where is the Caliph’s son?’ she asked. ‘Has he returned to

  the palace?’

  ‘Oh, yes, some time ago,’ Morna replied. ‘It is by his order

  that you have been given your own rooms.’

  ‘He has not asked for me?’

  ‘Our master’s son has not chosen a woman this night,’ Morna

  ‘Our master’s son has not chosen a woman this night,’ Morna

  replied. ‘They say he is with the physicians who tend the

  wounded—and that he has spoken to the family of the man who

  died. The Janissaries are al Suleiman Bakhar’s friends. He trains

  with them every day. Sometimes there is much sport in the

  courtyard, and you may be alowed to watch him wrestling or

  fighting with the others if you are lucky.’

  Eleanor was astonished. ‘Why should I wish to watch that

  barbarian at sport?’

  ‘Hush!’ Morna glanced over her shoulder nervously. ‘You

  should not say such things—ears may be listening. We are

  always watched in the harem. There are spies everywhere.

  Fatima wil have heard that you have arrived by now and she wil

  not be pleased that you have been given your own apartments.’

  ‘Who is Fatima?’

  ‘She is the lord Suleiman’s favourite. She rules the harem and

  al the other women are afraid of her.’

  ‘Why—what harm can she do them?’

  ‘Many unpleasant things can happen in this place,’ Morna

  warned. ‘Fatima is jealous of any woman she thinks might take

  her place as Suleiman’s chief concubine. She is hoping he wil

  take her as his wife—but she has not yet given him a child, and

  they say he wil not marry her unless she does.’

  ‘I have no wish to lie in Suleiman Bakhar’s bed,’ Eleanor

  said. ‘Besides, the other women wil not understand what we say

  if we speak in English—wil they?’

  ‘Most wil not,’ Morna agreed, ‘but there are those who do

  ‘Most wil not,’ Morna agreed, ‘but there are those who do

  —some of the eunuchs understand English, French or Spanish as

  wel as many other languages. It is the eunuchs who spy on the

  harem al the time. Some do it from idle curiosity, some to

  discover what they can for their masters—but others have their

  own reasons.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Eleanor looked at her curiously.

  ‘They…cannot desire a woman for themself, can they?’

  ‘No—not a true eunuch,’ Morna replied in a whisper. ‘But

  sometimes…no, I dare not say. It is forbidden and would cause

  trouble if it were discovered.’

  Eleanor saw that the old woman was frightened and did not

  press her further, though she thought Morna must be hinting that

  the women were not as protected as their master imagined. It

  was clear that there were many mysteries and intrigues in the

  harem, and that life there was not quite as it had seemed as she’d

  watched the women amusing themselves earlier

  Morna had led her to a room that was slightly apart from the

  main one that she had seen earlier. There were actualy three

  smal interconnecting rooms. One had a little pool for bathing and

  a place for relieving the bodily functions, one for sleeping (with a couch for her servant at the foot of her own divan) and one for

  sitting. Al of them were luxuriously tiled and hung with silken

  drapes of pink and silver. There were cabinets of dark wood

  inlaid with silver, mother of pearl and smal semi-precious stones,

  also stools and little tables.

  ‘The rooms are very nice,’ Eleanor said. ‘At least I shal be

  able to be private sometimes—but what am I supposed to do?

  able to be private sometimes—but what am I supposed to do?

  What are my duties, Morna? Am I to be given no work—no

  occupation?’

  ‘The ladies of the harem are here to please their master,’

  Morna replied. ‘You simply amuse yourself until you are caled

  to the bedchamber and then…wel, then you do as you are told,

  and smile if you do not wish to be beaten.’

  A little shudder went through Eleanor. ‘That is truly a savage

  custom! I refuse to obey the whim of a man simply because he

  paid another man money for me.’

  Morna shook her head at her sadly. ‘You wil learn soon

  enough,’ she said. ‘I shal fetch food, my lady. You should eat

  and rest—for tomorrow you wil meet the important women of

  the harem, and they wil begin to school you for those duties you

  say you wil not accept…’

  Eleanor stared in frustration as the servant left her. She could

  not stay here! She would die of boredom. How could al those

  women out there be content to sit around and wait patiently until

  their master decided to send for them—and what if he never

  did?

  What if she never saw Suleiman again? She would not be

  able to win her freedom unless she could persuade him to

  ransom her…

  Fatima glared at the woman who had brought her the

  information that the new arrival had been given rooms of her

  own. She gave a little scream of rage and struck Shorah across

  own. She gave a little scream of rage and struck Shorah across

  the face, leaving a nasty red mark.

  ‘I told you to leave her with the other concubines. I gave

  orders that she was to be ignored!’

  ‘It was the order of Suleiman Bakhar himself,’ Shorah

  replied, her head bowed before the favourite, hiding the gleam of

  resentment in her eyes. ‘I had nothing to do with it, mistress.’

  Fatima swore beneath her breath. Word had been brought to

  her that Suleiman had gone to the city to see a beautiful woman

  and that he had paid a fabulous price for her—but she had

  believed the woman was to be a gift for the Sultan. Now it

  looked as though Suleiman might be planning to keep her for

  himself. He might even take her as his wife…and that was a

  position Fatima wanted for herself. As a concubine she could be

  sold or given away to another man, but as the lord Suleiman’s

  wife she would be safe and ruler of the harem.

  ‘Is she beautiful?’ she demanded suddenly of the old woman.

  ‘This new woman—more beautiful than me?’

  ‘No one could be more beautiful than you, mistress.’

  Fatima nodded. She knew that her dark hair was shiny from

  al
the oils rubbed into it, and her skin was soft and smooth to the

  touch, exuding a heavy perfume that was guaranteed to drive

  men wild. And her lord had shown himself no different from

  others in that respect. She spent most of her time bathing and

  being prepared for the moment she would be sent for—but

  Suleiman had not sent for her that evening.

  It was most unusual. He always sent for a woman after he

  had won one of his games of skil—and he was always in a good

  had won one of his games of skil—and he was always in a good

  mood at these times—but he had not sent for Fatima that night.

  Her one consolation was that he had not sent for the new woman

  either, choosing to waste his time in comforting the family of the

  man who had died, and in visiting the wounded.

  Yet she feared this woman she had not yet seen. It was said

  that she was an English gentlewoman—and therefore more

  dangerous than any of the other concubines. Suleiman’s mother

  had been English, and Fatima knew that he had fond memories

  of his childhood.

  Suleiman was hard to fathom. When he fought with the

  Janissaries, Fatima understood the excitement and his feelings of

  triumph when he won—and she knew that he was a skiled and

  passionate lover when he chose. However, he often spent his

  evenings talking, either with his teacher or his friends…they

  spoke of strange, intricate matters that Fatima would have found

  boring had she been alowed to listen. She was not, of course.

  Women were for pleasure, and when Suleiman sent for her she

  knew how to please him…except that he had not seemed

  pleased on the last few occasions he had sent for her.

  Indeed, she had felt that he did not realy want her, and that

  he would have preferred to be talking with his teacher. She had

  been glad when she learned the teacher had gone away, thinking

  that Suleiman would want her more often. Instead he had chosen

  to invite his friends from the Janissaries to eat and drink with him, and, though, he ordered the dancing girls to perform and he

  alowed his friends to take their pick of them, he had not sent for

  Fatima.

  She had feared that her lord might have heard whispers

  concerning her and yet that could not be—he could suspect

  nothing, for her creature would have told her.

  Fatima knew everything that went on in Suleiman’s private

  apartments, because she held one of the eunuchs in the palm of

 

‹ Prev