Bianca

by Small Bertrice

  Amir had never before cared one way or another for power other than the power over his own life. Today, however, he wished he had the authority to make Besma disappear. The woman was a thorn in everyone’s slipper. Her madness and her ambition were beyond impossible. That she had the ability to wreak such havoc with his own life and the lives of his small family infuriated the prince. However, as he was not a man for murder himself, he knew he must accept his uncle’s will in this matter as the best solution.

  He held no animosity for his cousin Ahmed. Ahmed would never rule, no matter what his mother thought. She had ruined him in her efforts to bind him to her by indulging his vices instead of teaching him to control them. Ahmed preferred forbidden wines and sating his lustful nature to the possibility that he would one day rule his father’s and his grandfather’s expanding empire. He had no interest in governance, as the province he was charged with ruling showed by its disorder.

  And yet his ambitious mother could not see it. What Besma saw was Ahmed as the next sultan, and herself ruling through him. And to foster her ambition, Amir and his family must now flee to the tiny fiefdom of El Dinut. He must uproot himself and leave the home he loved to protect them all. Amir ibn Jem was not happy, but he also knew that he really had no choice.

  “How much time do we have?” he asked the Agha.

  “I would send your women away as quickly as possible,” Hadji Bey said. “While we were traveling to reach you, Captain Mahmud told me of a rumor that reached his ear just before we departed Istanbul.” He looked to the Janissary.

  “The corps has spies everywhere, as you know, my lord,” Captain Mahmud began. “Recently one of them, knowing my friendship with you, came to tell me that a man in the city who is known as a broker of all things—his name is Sami—has sent out a call for a troop of Tartars. Kadin Besma’s personal eunuch, Taweel, was seen coming from Sami’s place of business just before that request was circulated. I feel those Tartars are meant to attack the Moonlight Serai. You have no defenses for this palace, my lord. You are vulnerable to such an attack.”

  Amir could no longer control his irritation. “You are the most powerful man in the palace, Hadji Bey,” he said angrily. “Can you do nothing to stop this damned woman? My wife is only just now recovered from childbirth after almost eight months, and Atiya is not even a year old. Now I must expose them to the rigors of a long journey! Certainly my uncle knows how duplicitous this kadin is.”

  “She pleases him in his bed in a way no other woman does,” Hadji Bey said candidly. “He believes he needs her, and depends upon me to control her. Short of cutting out her tongue or slitting her throat . . .” The Agha shrugged. “Your uncle’s responsibilities are great, my lord prince. He must have what pleases him, and it is my duty to see that he does.” Then he reminded Amir, “And it is your duty to obey the sultan’s commands.”

  “I know, I know,” Amir responded. “I am grateful he has even considered making provision for me, and I will obey. Have I not always done my duty by the sultan, Hadji Bey? I am his most loyal servant.”

  “You have, my lord, you have,” the Agha replied. “And now that we have settled this matter, I would see your daughter so I may tell the sultan of her when I return.”

  “Krikor,” the prince called to his faithful slave, who stood quietly on one side of the salon. “Tell Ali Farid that I wish the lady Azura to bring our daughter here so the Agha Kislar may see her.”

  “At once, my lord!”

  Several minutes later Azura came into the chamber carrying her child. She was dressed in a lavender silk kaftan trimmed in gold and silver threads. A sheer pale pink silk covered her dark hair, and she was veiled. The baby was dressed in a soft pink robe. She was rosy cheeked, her bright blue eyes looking around her. The young mother bowed to her husband, and to Hadji Bey.

  “This is my third wife, Azura,” the prince said, “and our daughter, Atiya.”

  Hadji Bey reached out to loosen the veil covering Azura’s face. His fingers, she noted, were long and elegant. He looked at her admiringly with the distinct eye of a connoisseur, then refastened the veil. “Her eyes are extraordinary,” he said. “She is beautiful enough for your uncle’s harem.” Then he fingered one of Atiya’s loose raven curls. “The child is a mixture of you both,” he noted. “She has your stubborn chin, my lord, but her mother’s sweet mouth. I shall tell the sultan that Atiya is a true Ottoman princess.”

  “Return to the harem, beloved,” Amir murmured to Azura. “I will come later, and tell you everything that has happened this day.”

  With a polite nod of her head, Azura left the men. There had been a third man in the salon. He wore the uniform of the Janissaries. He had taken a quick look when Hadji Bey had unveiled her, but then as quickly averted his eyes politely. She wondered who he was, but Amir would tell her later. Maysun and Shahdi were waiting excitedly for her.

  “What does the great Hadji Bey want of our husband?” Maysun asked.

  “I don’t know,” Azura replied. “He said he would come later and tell us.”

  “They will remain the night,” Shahdi said. “It is much too late in the day now for them to return to Istanbul. Amir will entertain them.”

  “With what?” Maysun demanded to know. “We have no dancing girls.”

  “Food and drink, of course,” Shahdi responded. “They will talk, like all men do, and probably gamble together.”

  “A poor welcome for the sultan’s Agha Kislar,” Maysun said. “If only we had known he was coming. I wonder why he did not send ahead.”

  Azura handed Atiya off to Agata. “We can wonder all we want,” she said. “We will know nothing until Amir comes.”

  He came long after the sun had set that day, but the three women waited, for a visit from the sultan’s Agha Kislar was a rare—indeed, an almost unheard-of—event. He looked tired, and he looked worried. They settled him comfortably in the single cushioned chair that was meant only for him, and seated themselves around him on low stools. Amir looked at them and sighed deeply. “We must leave the Moonlight Serai almost immediately,” he began, and the three women gasped in shock.

  Amir held up his hand to stem the flow of their questions temporarily. Then he went on to tell them everything the Agha Kislar had told him. He told them what he believed with regard to the sultan’s kadin Besma. Then he concluded, “We have no choice. To remain at the Moonlight Serai invites danger at the least, death more likely. I will not give the lives of my family merely to quell the madness of one woman’s ambition for her son. We must go, but at least my uncle has provided a safe haven for us.”

  “But we have always lived here,” Maysun said.

  “From the time your grandfather gave us to you,” Shahdi added.

  “Where is El Dinut?” Azura wanted to know.

  Amir smiled. His first two wives could not see beyond today. Azura, praise Allah, had wisdom. “El Dinut is on the Mediterranean Sea. It is a long journey from the Moonlight Serai,” he replied. “We will have to travel by ship.”

  Azura nodded. “Will it take us as long as it took when you and I came from Venice?” she asked him.

  “A little longer, beloved. El Dinut is nearer the Italian states and France,” he explained. “I want the women to go first, within the next few days.”

  “Yes, Maysun and Shahdi must go first,” Azura agreed. “I want them to take Atiya with them.” She spoke as if the others were not even in the room. “I will remain to see that the household is packed up, and then come with you, my lord.”

  “You must go with the others,” he told her.

  “No,” Azura responded. “I will not leave until you leave. I did not give up my people to be without you, Amir.”

  “Besma’s Tartars could come, and I would be slain,” he said.

  “If that happens, if there is no hope, then I will die with you, my lord, but I will not leave you,” Azura replied quietly, adding, “Nor will I become slave to some Tartar.”

  He wanted to arg
ue with her, but he saw the determination in her beautiful eyes. Those wonderful eyes that had first attracted him to her. She was brave enough to stand by his side, and while his every instinct was to force her to go, he would not. “Very well,” he said. “We will depart together, but the others must go ahead of us with Atiya.”

  “Will Agata come with us?” Maysun asked.

  “Yes,” Azura answered her. “The voyage will be long and dull. And it may be difficult at times. She will be of more use to you than your pretty little handmaidens, especially with Atiya. And when you reach El Dinut she will be of great value to you as you settle yourselves in this new place. I am certain the dey will host you until we are able to find ourselves a new home in which to live.”

  Shahdi began to cry. “I do not want to leave here,” she said. “We are happy here.”

  “We will be happy wherever we are because we will be together,” Maysun said, for she could be a practical woman. “We will begin packing up our possessions in the morning. If we must go, then the sooner, the better! I have no wish to find myself standing over some Tartar’s cooking fire or in his bed. Do you, Shahdi?”

  The second wife looked horrified at such a suggestion. While both women had been born into seminomadic cultures, ending up in an Ottoman prince’s household had been a marvelous fate for them. They had lived in luxury for enough time that they did not want to return to anything like their previous life. “No!” Shahdi said emphatically in reply to her fellow wife’s query. “No!” she repeated.

  Before the Agha Kislar departed the following morning, he promised Prince Amir, “I will do my best to stop kadin Besma from sending her Tartars, but do not depend upon it. She is a resourceful female. She will use poison, a single assassin, whatever means she can find to gain her objective until I may turn her attention in another direction. Do not delay, my lord prince, but know you go with your uncle’s blessings.”

  “Such knowledge is comforting under the circumstances,” Amir replied drily.

  The Agha Kislar laughed aloud at the prince’s sarcasm but said nothing further. There was nothing left to say. There were times when he blessed his absence of lust and this was one of them. That the whims of one woman could be responsible for the disruption of an entire family struck him as ridiculous. Nonetheless, the sultan believed he needed this particular kadin, and the sultan’s wishes must be considered. Hadji Bey returned to Istanbul determined to foil kadin Besma.

  At the Moonlight Serai the entire populace of the little palace was now told of the evacuation to come. Messengers were dispatched overland to Istanbul to the captains of Prince Amir’s three vessels now docked in the port. The first of the ships sailed immediately, anchoring two days later in the cove below their master’s home. Its large cargo hold was immediately loaded with household goods and the personal possessions of the first two wives and the baby.

  Agata came to bid her mistress farewell. She was not pleased by this sudden change in their lives. “I do not want to leave you,” she said. “Who will take care of you if I am not here, mistress?”

  “I need you to look after Atiya,” Azura told her. “God forbid anything should happen to me; who would tell Atiya of her heritage? Maysun and Shahdi love my daughter, I know, but it is you, Agata, that I entrust with her life. The prince and I will not be far behind you, I promise. There is only a little left to do.” She wrapped her arms around her faithful servant and hugged her. “Go with God, Agata.”

  “I will not fail you, mistress,” Agata promised, brushing away the tears that had suddenly overcome her and begun to slip down her worn cheeks.

  “I know you won’t,” Azura said, patting the woman on her arm. “Go now!” She watched sadly as Agata departed the harem. This would be the first time in all of her life that she had been without Agata’s companionship and care. Earlier, Azura had bidden her child farewell, nursing her a final time, drinking in her infant beauty, before kissing the sleepy baby and turning her over to the slave woman who would now be responsible for Atiya’s nourishment.

  One of their own household now, the slave woman had recently weaned her own child. She was healthy and grateful to be taken from the prince’s farm fields into his household staff along with her child, also a little girl, who would serve as a playmate for Atiya. And she was grateful to Agata, who had discovered her and suggested her to the beautiful third wife, who everyone knew was the prince’s true love.

  Now Azura watched as Agata joined Maysun, Shahdi, and the rest of the women servants trekking down to the beach, where they were ferried out to the large vessel at anchor awaiting them. The second of the prince’s ships was now also anchored in the cove and had been being filled all day with the rest of Prince Amir’s possessions and with the slaves. The third ship was due on the morrow. It would carry the prince and Azura, along with his horses. Azura’s cat had been sent with Agata, for Atiya enjoyed its antics. Darius, the prince’s favorite hound, would travel with his master.

  She watched from the empty harem as the first two vessels finally weighed anchor and departed. They were now alone but for Diya al Din and half a dozen male slaves who cared for the horses. They ate a cold meal that the cook had left them the night before. Afterwards, Azura walked through the little palace thinking how sad and lonely it now was without the inhabitants who gave it life. Even in her husband’s bed with Amir next to her, the night seemed extra dark and silent.

  Azura hardly slept. Every sound was cause for suspicion. Dawn brought little relief from the fear that had suddenly crept into her. She sensed something she could not quite put her finger upon, but it was not good. The skies above were gray with the threat of rain. Amir had the horses in the stable led down to the beach to await his third ship. The sea was oddly calm, and they could see their ship’s sails on the horizon as the vessel came nearer and nearer.

  “I think it better that we wait on the beach,” the prince told her as he draped a long dark cloak over her shoulders.

  Azura felt a pang of sadness. It was time to bid good-bye to the Moonlight Serai. A home she had come to love. A place where she had been happy, where her only child had been born. She sighed deeply. It was surprisingly painful. She had not ever felt such an emotion, not even upon leaving her childhood palazzo in Florence.

  It was at that moment that Diya al Din hurried into the chamber. “My lord, there is a large party of horsemen on the hills above the palace. We must leave quickly, my lord!” His face was pale with his fear.

  “Come!” Amir said, leading both his wife and his servant from the chamber. They hurried into the gardens and taking the path from its far end moved quickly down the steep route to the beach below. There they found the two barges from the prince’s ship already loading the horses for transport out to the vessel that had just arrived in their little harbor. The blindfolded animals were being led quickly onto the flat carriers, which were then rowed out to the waiting ship. A door in the vessel’s side was opened, a ramp pushed forth, and each horse was led into the cargo hold, where stalls had been built especially for the beasts and their grooms.

  It but remained for a boat to come ashore to pick up the prince, his wife, and Diya al Din. His chief household eunuch suddenly gasped, growing almost gray, and pointing to the horsemen upon them. The prince pushed Azura to Diya al Din and drew his scimitar. “Get her to the boat!” he shouted. “Carry her through the water if you must!”

  “I’m not leaving you, Amir!” Azura cried, shoving the eunuch away.

  It was too late. The horsemen surrounded them. Fierce Tartars with dark eyes and long moustaches. Their horses danced about the three. But then their leader, a young man, burst out laughing, realizing that they believed him to be the enemy. “Amir! Do you not recognize me? I am your cousin Selim,” he called out, jumping down from his stallion.

  The prince felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He had not seen Selim since he was ten. The young man clearly was several years older now. Was he fifteen? Sixteen? Seventeen? He looked well-grow
n. “I thought you were governing your province, cousin. And where did you get your Tartars? Surely they are not the ones hired by kadin Besma to kill me and my family.”

  “No, no,” Selim replied. “The bitch’s Tartars are just now descending upon your home. They will be very disappointed to find it emptied of chattel, livestock, and goods, for I’m certain they were promised all they could loot in addition to the monies that have been paid them for this foul deed. As soon as you are safely aboard your vessel, we will go up and engage them. Now give me your gold signet ring. Besma wants it as proof you have been slain, and if my men are to collect the other half of her bounty, we will need it. She did ask for your finger, so we shall have to find one upon which to put your ring, lest any suspicions remain in her dark heart.”

  Amir burst out laughing. “You mean to steal her gold from her, Selim? You will slay her hired men and substitute your own for her assassins with the purveyor of all things, Sami? And how in the name of Allah and the seven djinns did you learn of what was to transpire here? No! Do not tell me. I think I know, but better you not confirm it.” He pulled the gold signet ring from his finger and tossed it to his cousin. “Here, and with my blessing,” he said. “Of course it will be difficult to find a finger as elegant as mine,” he teased the younger prince, “but if it means she believes me dead, so much the better. But poor Ahmed will never rule, no matter her efforts.”

  Selim’s gray eyes met his cousin’s deep blue ones. He nodded, saying softly, “No, he will not, cousin.” Prince Selim then held out his hand to Prince Amir to shake. The two men embraced. “Allah keep you safe, cousin,” Selim said.

  “And you also, cousin,” Amir replied. “Whenever you have need of my loyalty, it is yours to command, Selim.”

  “I will remember that,” the younger man said. “Now go quickly!”

  The little boat transporting them out to Amir’s ship was awaiting him. Diya al Din and Azura were already in it. He waded out and climbed aboard, turning to give a final wave to Prince Selim. His cousin acknowledged the salute from his saddle, and then, turning, raced up the hillside with his own Tartars. Almost immediately they could hear the shouts of battle beginning as the sultan’s son and his men met the assassins of kadin Besma, who found themselves outnumbered but were deterred from flight.