Captive of the Harem

by Anne Herries

  asked. They spent many hours together, I believe. He was closer

  to Suleiman than anyone—except the Caliph.’

  ‘It is sad to lose such a friend,’ Eleanor replied and, despite

  herself, felt that she would have liked to offer comfort to the man

  who had lost his best friend, though she knew he would not have

  wanted such words from her. ‘But a man like Suleiman must

  have many others?’

  ‘He has many friends amongst the Janissaries,’ Karin replied.

  ‘But so far he has not replaced Kasim. I do not think he can

  bear to do so…though he has summoned an astrologer on two

  occasions.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Eleanor replied. ‘I saw the instruments such men

  use for reading the stars in his hal. They looked interesting.’

  Karin nodded, and her expression was thoughtful. ‘It is very

  Karin nodded, and her expression was thoughtful. ‘It is very

  rare for a woman to be appointed to the position of adviser,’ she

  said. ‘But it has been known. You might please our master in

  many ways if you do your work wel, Eleanor. You should not

  despair that he has sent for Fatima and not you this evening.’

  Eleanor stared at her. She was conscious of a very odd

  feeling; it was like a pain in her chest and she did not understand

  it, though she knew what had aroused it. Yet she could not be

  jealous because Suleiman had sent for his favourite! After al, she

  did not want him to send for her in that way… Even so, there

  was a feeling of disappointment that he should have summoned

  Fatima to his bed.

  ‘It is good that he has sent for her,’ Eleanor said when she

  could form the words. ‘She was afraid that I might take her

  place and it made her spiteful—now she wil be happy again.’

  ‘And you—you are not disappointed that you did not please

  him?’

  ‘No…’ Eleanor knew that she was not teling the whole truth.

  ‘I told him that I would never consent to be his concubine

  wilingly.’

  ‘You told the lord Suleiman that?’ Karin stared in

  astonishment. She could scarcely believe that Eleanor had been

  so bold or so foolish. ‘And he sent no word that you were to be

  punished? Instead, he grants your wish to have pen and paper…

  I do not understand this, Eleanor.’

  ‘Perhaps it as you say,’ Eleanor replied. ‘I am useful in other

  ways.’

  She did not tel Karin that Suleiman had promised to favour

  She did not tel Karin that Suleiman had promised to favour

  her above al others if she pleased him—or that she had defied

  him when he kissed her.

  ‘In that case I must leave you to begin your work,’ Karin

  said, clearly stil mystified. ‘You may send for fresh lamps if you

  need them, but do not work too long into the night—or you wil

  overtire yourself and lose your looks.’ Her gaze narrowed

  thoughtfuly. ‘You are very lovely, Eleanor. I cannot believe that

  you do not stir Suleiman Bakhar. I do not know what is in his

  mind concerning you—but I think he may yet surprise us al…’

  Suleiman watched as Fatima performed one of her dances for

  him. She was extremely graceful, and there was no other woman

  of his harem who was more skiled in the arts of pleasing a man

  —both with her dancing and in bed.

  He had enjoyed her performance many times, and been

  roused to make love to her after the dance, but tonight it left him

  unmoved. He could stil appreciate her skil, yet there was no

  burning in his loins, or any desire to lie with her.

  ‘Come,’ he invited as the music ended and she sank to a

  position of supplication before him, arms stretched out as if in

  entreaty. ‘Sit on that cushion next to me and talk to me.’

  Fatima obeyed, though she was puzzled by this odd request.

  Always before he had raised her up and taken her into his

  private room and made love to her. She had looked forward to it

  eagerly through al the ritual of the bath and preparation. It was

  her reason for living, for she was a passionate woman and

  her reason for living, for she was a passionate woman and

  relished the act of physical love. He had never asked her to talk

  to him before, and she did not know what to say.

  ‘What would my lord have of me?’ she asked. ‘Would you

  have me sing to you?’

  ‘No. I wish for conversation,’ Suleiman replied and frowned.

  ‘Tel me what you do with your days, Fatima.’

  ‘I wait for you to send for me, my lord. I bathe and perfume

  myself—and sometimes I dance so that I retain my skil for your

  pleasure.’

  ‘But what do you like to do yourself?’

  ‘I live to please you, my lord.’

  Suleiman stared at her. Was her life so empty? And what of

  the other women in his harem—those he had not sent for in

  months? Some that he had never asked for in al the time they

  had been here—what did they do with their time?

  ‘Have you no friends? Do you not laugh and talk—walk with

  them in the gardens or bathe together in the pools? Do they not

  gossip with you or tel stories?’

  ‘I could not say what the others do,’ Fatima replied with a

  look of disdain. ‘I seldom bother with them—they are jealous of

  me because you send only for me.’

  Suleiman saw the look of spiteful delight in her eyes and was

  disgusted. She was an empty vain woman—and he had created

  her. She was this way because he had taken his pleasures

  carelessly without thought for what he did, not loving her but

  using her to slake the physical urgings of his body.

  using her to slake the physical urgings of his body.

  He knew that he did not desire her, that he would probably

  never want her again. His first thought was that she should return

  to the harem at once, but he checked it before the words were

  spoken. If he sent her back so soon, the other women would

  know that she had not lain in his bed—and they would despise

  her for losing his favour. She did not deserve that, for she was as

  lovely and graceful as she had always been—the change was in

  him

  ‘So…you wait al day for me…’ He stood up and Fatima’s

  heart raced. Surely now he would take her to his bed and she

  would make him forget this strange mood that troubled him. ‘I

  do not want you to pleasure me this night, Fatima—but I shal

  not send you back to the harem. You may stay here in this room

  until the morning and return at your usual hour.’

  ‘But, my lord…’ Stil on her knees, Fatima caught at the hem

  of his tunic as he would have passed her. ‘What have I done to

  displease you?’

  ‘You have not displeased me,’ he replied coldly. ‘Your dance

  was excelent—but I do not desire you in my bed. You wil sleep

  here and leave in the morning as soon as it is light.’

  ‘Forgive me…’ Fatima threw herself to the floor at his feet,

  abasing herself before him. ‘Whatever I have done I wil make

  amends, my lord.’

  ‘You displease me by this display of temper
,’ Suleiman said,

  guilt making his voice sharper than need be. ‘If you persist, I

  shal send for the eunuch to take you back now.’

  He walked on past her, leaving Fatima stretched out on the

  He walked on past her, leaving Fatima stretched out on the

  tiled floor, her body shaking with the tears she could not hold

  back despite his threat to send her back at once. She longed to

  folow him, to plead with him again, but she dared not for he

  would surely send her back to the harem in disgrace. And then

  the other women would laugh at her. She had flaunted herself

  over them and some of them would not lose their chance to

  make her suffer now that she had lost their master’s favour.

  Suleiman felt both guilt and pity for her as he looked down on

  her misery. He had not truly understood how empty were the

  lives of the women in his harem until…until one of them had

  asked him how she was to pass her life. He had sent her work to

  do since it seemed that this was what she required, but it would

  be useless to offer such a boon to Fatima, for she would neither

  appreciate nor be able to do such intricate work. He doubted

  that she could write, let alone read Latin…it was a rare thing in a

  woman. Even his own mother had not been able to read Latin,

  but Eleanor could.

  He wondered what Eleanor was doing at that moment. He

  wished that he might send for her—but to do so would be to

  offer a grievous insult to the woman he had left sobbing on the

  floor of his outer chamber. He would not choose to be that cruel,

  even though it was only now that he had begun to realise his

  actions could be cruel…that he hurt those he did not send for by

  omission. It was a heavy burden, and one that must be given

  careful consideration.

  Tomorrow must suffice for his own pleasure. He would sit

  and read some of his manuscripts, though of late he had noticed

  and read some of his manuscripts, though of late he had noticed

  that it was something of a strain to decipher his own lettering.

  The scripts he had sent to Eleanor for transcribing were some he

  had written long ago and concerned matters of astrology that he

  wished to consult again, so that perhaps he might be able to

  interpret his own charts and not have to trust the words of the

  astrologer.

  He took the scripts to a stool by a table where a lamp was

  burning and began to read the fair hand inscribed for him by his

  old teacher, sighing as he did so. He missed Kasim so much…

  and there was no one else he could talk to in the same way, for

  his father was not interested in ancient teachings and mysteries.

  The Caliph was a man much concerned with the daily

  administration of justice in the Sultan’s capitol, and had no time

  for the kind of work that gave Suleiman so much pleasure.

  The mysteries of the stars, of medicine and ancient

  knowledge, some handed down from empires now lost to

  mankind, held a special fascination for Suleiman Bakhar. He had

  many books, which came from the printing works of Germany,

  France and Venice, which were easy enough for him to read—

  but it was the ancient manuscripts that he found difficult to

  decipher these days. He was forced to hold them at a distance

  and that was uncomfortable, and sometimes made his eyes ache

  if he worked too long into the night.

  For the moment he must content himself with the books that

  showed pictures of medical practice and were self-explanatory,

  depicting lumps and sores on various parts of the body. He had

  been visiting at the bedside of one of the Janissaries earlier; the

  unfortunate man had developed a lump on his side. And, after

  consulting with the physicians, Suleiman was trying to ascertain

  whether it would be best to cut the lump from the man’s body or

  treat it with powders to try and burn it off.

  The sobbing from the outer chamber had ceased at last.

  Suleiman forgot the woman as he read his medical books, his

  mind now fuly concentrated on a cure for his friend.

  Eleanor had spent many happy hours poring over the scripts

  sent to her and had begun her transcription into both English and

  Latin, copying a page of each at a time. She had slept afterwards

  and woke feeling so much happier than she had in an age. At

  least now she had some purpose to her life—and she could

  almost imagine herself back at home with her father.

  The memory of Sir Wiliam’s death lay heavy on her heart.

  She knew that she would never cease to grieve for him, and for

  her brother—who was as lost to her as her father. Yet perhaps if

  she asked Suleiman, he might be able to give her news of

  Richard… It would require some payment, of course.

  Eleanor knew that she had already been granted a

  considerable favour. Why had Suleiman done so much for her?

  She had thought him angry when he sent her back to the

  harem…and yet he had granted her request for some

  occupation. She was very grateful to him, and she was being

  very careful in her copying so that he would be pleased with

  what she had done.

  ‘Come into the garden,’ Anastasia said from the threshold of

  her sitting room. ‘It is a lovely day, Eleanor. Karin bid me tel

  you, you have worked enough for now. You must take a walk in

  the air.’

  ‘I am glad to do so,’ Eleanor said and rose with a smile. ‘I do

  not wish to study al the time. It is good to have friends and I like to talk with you and the others.’

  ‘Fatima is in a bad temper this morning,’ Anastasia said. ‘It is

  unusual for her to be so cross after spending the night with our

  master.’

  ‘It does not matter about her,’ Eleanor said linking arms with

  the other woman. ‘Tel me about the dancing lessons, Anastasia.

  I think I should like to learn. I can play a harp and the virginals—

  but I do not know how to play the instrument you were using the

  other night.’

  ‘It is a dombra, and comes from the province of

  Kazakhstan.’ Anastasia smiled at her. ‘It is very like a lute in

  some ways, but the music it makes is different. I could show you

  how to play it if you wish?’

  ‘Yes, I think that would be pleasant,’ Eleanor replied. ‘I am

  so glad that we are to be friends. I felt so alone the night I came

  to the harem—and no one spoke to me.’

  ‘That was because Fatima forbade it,’ Anastasia replied.

  ‘The three of us decided the next day that we would disobey her

  —especialy now that Abu is no longer in charge of the harem.

  He used to punish us for her if we did something that displeased

  He used to punish us for her if we did something that displeased

  her… He was cruel and it was his pleasure to whip us for some

  imagined slight of her.’

  ‘Why did you not tel Karin?’

  ‘Because she is not of the harem,’ Anastasia replied. ‘If we

  had told her, something might have happened while she was not

  here…women have disappeared without trace from the palace. I

  think Ab
u sold them to slave merchants.’

  ‘But did no one notice they had gone?’

  ‘Who would care?’ Anastasia frowned. ‘The Caliph hardly

  ever sends for a woman these days, and it would only be Karin

  or one of his other wives who have given him children—none of

  the concubines are ever requested. Unless the Caliph sent for

  someone who had disappeared he would never know—and then

  he would probably be told she had sickened and died of some

  mysterious ailment. No one could prove otherwise, for those

  who knew would not be asked.’

  ‘That is terrible,’ Eleanor said. ‘Do you think Suleiman knows

  of this?’

  ‘No—for who would dare to tel him? Abu was in charge of

  the harem and the only woman Suleiman sends for is Fatima—

  and I believe she knew what was going on. She helped Abu and

  he saw that she was obeyed in the harem… It was a strange

  partnership, but of mutual benefit.’

  ‘Yes, I see,’ Eleanor said. ‘It is a happy thing for us that Abu

  has been sent to the stores.’

  ‘Yes…’ Anastasia nodded. ‘And yet I think…’ She shook

  her head. ‘No, I cannot be sure and it is safer not to notice. I

  her head. ‘No, I cannot be sure and it is safer not to notice. I

  shal say no more and nor should you.’

  Eleanor looked at her curiously but did not press her to

  continue. Karin had told her it was dangerous to speak too

  openly in the harem, and although some of the women had

  shown themselves wiling to be friendly with Eleanor, others

  remained aloof.

  As they entered the main hal, Eleanor saw Fatima seated on

  one of the divans. Several of the women were hovering about

  her, offering dishes of sweetmeats and fruits. It was clear that she was displeased about something and her eyes snapped with

  temper as she looked at Eleanor. However, before she could

  speak Karin came up to Eleanor.

  ‘Suleiman has sent for you,’ she said. ‘You are to bring your

  journal. He wishes to see what you have done so far.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I shal fetch the journal at once.’

  Eleanor left Anastasia with a smile of regret and a promise

  that they would talk later. She colected the journal from her

  apartments, then hurried after Karin.

  Just before they reached the first of Suleiman’s hals, Karin

  stopped and turned to her with a worried expression.

  ‘I have heard strange whispers,’ she said. ‘One of the women