'You fear a conspiracy in the Seraglio to assassinate him?' Roger asked with swift concern.
She refilled their glasses, drank a little of the wine and said thoughtfully, T have no evidence that one is actually brewing; but it has long been a menace, my fear of which has much increased in recent times. I owe my position to the protection of a clever and most lovable woman, a Circassian Kadin who was the mother of my late husband and thus became the Sultan Valide. She died in October 1805. As Selim's mother was already dead, he gave me the status of Sultan Valide; although I am not so in fact and shall never be until my son, Mahmoud, succeeds to the throne. To the succession he has a rival, Prince Mustapha, the son of another of the Sultan Abdul Hamid's Kadins. She is an evil woman and has twice attempted to have my son poisoned. But on both occasions my devotion to the Blessed Virgin caused Her to intervene and save his life.'
Roger looked up in surprise. 'Can it be, Madame, that you have remained a Christian ?'
Her big, blue eyes widened. 'But of course, Monsieur. Naturally, many endeavours were made to persuade me to become a Muslim, but nothing would ever induce me to abandon the true Faith.'
More than ever Roger admired the extraordinary strength of will that animated this frail, beautiful woman as, shaking back her long golden hair, sparkling with diamonds, she went on.
'The increased danger to our lives from a palace conspiracy now lies in the discontent of the Janissaries. For many reigns past, here in the Seraglio, their power has exceeded that of the Sultans. Selim has endeavoured to break it by forming a new corps of Turkish-born soldiers called the Nizam-i-jedad. Not unnaturally, the Janissaries, who are mostly Circassians, became jealous of this new bodyguard. To placate them Selim, against my advice, embodied a considerable number of the younger Janissaries into the Nizam-i-jedad; and that, I believe, has resulted in undermining their loyalty to him. The evil Kadin of whom I spoke, although her son is technically a prisoner, has much influence with these malcontent, reactionary troops. It needs only a spark to set off a revolt that would lead to a blood bath, place Prince Mustapha on the throne and secure for his mother her lifelong ambition to become Sultan Valide.'
After a moment, Roger said, 'Madame, I pray you accept my devotion. If there is any way in which I can serve you, or assist in your protection, you have only to command me.'
She gave him a sad smile. 'Alas, there is naught you could do to aid me should my fears be realised. But, now that my dear friend Fanny de Sebastiani is dead and her handsome husband so grieved by her loss that he is abandoning us, it will be a great comfort to me to have here a brave French gentleman to whom I can talk unreservedly. I pray you, Monsieur le Chevalier, to come often to sec me. I will give orders that any of these greedy eunuchs who demand a bribe to announce your presence, shall be bastinadoed every week for a month.'
Crossing the room to the door through which Fatima had disappeared, Aimee recalled the girl, then jerked the bell rope. Roger reassumed his most deferential manner and began to take his leave. Yussif, the eunuch who had brought the champagne, arrived and escorted him from the 'Presence' back to the Gate of Felicity.
As he passed through it, Roger happened to look to his left, and his glance fell upon a sight that, his mind being so fully occupied, he had not noticed on entering the gate. It was a pile of human skulls: some with the flesh still on them and being devoured by a swarm of big bluebottles. Inwardly he shuddered at this evidence of the barbarities that the courageous Aimee was striving to abolish. Having caught his expression of disgust, Yussif grinned at him and said in Turkish:
'Those are the heads of the men that the Janissaries believe to have been traitors to them. They are placed there as a warning to others.'
'I find it difficult to believe that His Imperial Majesty the Sultan approves of this,' Roger remarked.
The eunuch shrugged. 'That is not for me to judge, Effendi. But those of us who are the loyal servants of Her Sublimity the Sultan Valide never know the day when we may find ourselves hung by the neck from the great elm in the First Court.' With a bow, he added, 'May Allah the Merciful, the Compassionate, have you in his keeping, Effendi.' Then he handed Roger over to one of the White Eunuchs who saw him out of the Palace.
In the room over the tailor's shop Roger changed back into uniform, then recrossed the Golden Horn with Achmet. Thinking matters over, he was well content with the situation of Turkey as Aimee had disclosed it to him. Had matters been otherwise and the Turks likely to accede to Napoleon's request that they should launch an offensive across the Danube, he had intended himself to reveal what Talleyrand had told him of the Sultan's waning authority in the Balkans and, posing as the confidential messenger of Josephine, tell Aimee that the Emperor was fully capable of defeating the Czar without Turkish help; so the Sultan would be most ill advised to jeopardise further his own position by sending another army against the Russians. But it had proved unnecessary to do that. Whatever promises the Sultan might make to General Gardane, it was clear that he could not carry them out.
As Aimee corresponded with Josephine, it was quite on the cards that she would mention Roger's visit; so he was much relieved that he would not later have to explain away having given her advice contrary to French interests. She would, no doubt, send her thanks for the candlesticks, but that did not worry him. In due course he would tell Josephine that he had made the gift in her name, believing that his having done so would please her. And he felt certain that it would.
About Aimee's own position he was considerably worried; but, in spite of her invitation, he did not wish to give her the impression that he was taking advantage of her friendliness, so he decided against paying her another visit until the Monday. That morning, having changed again in the room over the tailor's shop into the costume of a Greek merchant, he made his way to the Palace. This time he was received very differently. The Kapi Aga was brought at once to the waiting room in the great gate, and enquired solicitously as to Roger's health. A messenger was despatched to the Kizler Aga and, after a brief wait, the visitor was conducted across the court to the Gate of Felicity. There Yussif met him with smiles and bows, then took him through the maze of corridors to the Sultan Valide's apartments.
With her on this occasion, besides the slim, doe-eyed Fatima, were two men. The elder had a long, thin nose, heavily-lidded eyes, a thin moustache and a very full, black beard. He was dressed simply, in a loose silk robe, but above his lofty forehead rose a large white turban, in the centre of which flashed a huge diamond. The younger had a heavier moustache, but a less full beard, and arched black eyebrows above eyes that were as large and lustrous as Aimee's, although dark brown. Instantly, Roger realised that he was in the presence of the Sultan and Aimee's son Prince Mahmoud.
As he went down on his knees, Aimee curtsied to the Sultan and said in French, 'Permit me, Sire, to present to you a brave French officer, the friend and confidant of my cousin the Empress Josephine: Colonel le Chevalier de Brew!
Roger's hands were clasped, with his head bowed over them. To his ears there came the voice of Selim, speaking in heavily-accented and bad but understandable French. 'Welcome to our Court, Monsieur. Rise and be seated. Here in this blessed haven from pomp, anxiety and toil, provided by our beloved Naksh, we do not stand on ceremony.'
Coming to his feet Roger smiled, bowed and said, 'Your gracious Majesty honours me beyond my deserts.'
Then Aimee waved a hand towards the younger man: 'My son, Prince Mahmoud.'
Again Roger bowed. Smiling at him, the young Prince picked up a bottle of champagne, poured a glass, handed it to him, and said in fluent French almost entirely free of accent, 'One of the many joys my mother has brought us. Because one believes in God, one does not have to deny oneself the blessings he has bestowed on man.'
Roger was surprised at the paleness of the faces of the two Turks, particularly that of the Sultan which, against his black beard, was actually pallid. But, after a moment he recalled having been told tha
t customs forbade any Turkish Prince from ever taking a wife of Turkish blood. All the young girls bought or kidnapped to become inmates of the harem came from distant pans of the Empire with, occasionally, an Italian or Spaniard who, like Aimee, had been captured by Corsairs. The great majority of the odalisques from whom the Sultans chose their four wives were, on account of their outstanding beauty, fair-skinned Circassians. As a result, after many generations, the Osmanli Princes were in fact Turks only by upbringing.
For over an hour they talked freely and, at times, gaily; the lovely young Fatima often joining in as though she were one of the family. Roger gave a lively description of the splendid Court Napoleon had created since he had made himself an Emperor, and of the Kings, Princes and Grand Dukes who attended it to fawn upon him. He told them about the latest -fashions in Paris, and gave an account of Napoleon's triumphant Prussian campaign. But he refrained from telling them of his narrow escape from death at Eylau, and that for two months he had been a prisoner, leading them to suppose that it was during that time Josephine had heard that he was to accompany General Gardane's mission to Constantinople and sent him the candlesticks to take, as a token of her enduring affection for her cousin.
At the mention of Gardane, the Sultan said, 'I intend to receive him on Wednesday. Tomorrow we make an expedition up the Bosphorus to Rumeli Hisar. You must come with us. Now I have to attend to business.'
As he stood up, Roger gave thanks for the honour done him and bowed profoundly. Aimee extended her hand for him to kiss and said, 'Be here at nine o'clock, Monsieur; and, of course, in the same costume. I have already explained to His Majesty the reason for your wearing Balkan dress.'
Prince Mahmoud then smiled at him and asked, 'Would it interest you to see my work?'
'Indeed it would, Your Highness,' Roger replied, although he was distinctly puzzled by this invitation. As they followed the Sultan from the room, the young man enlightened him.
'Perhaps, Monsieur, you are not aware of it, but by tradition every Osmanli Prince has to learn a trade. I chose that of a professional writer, and derive much pleasure from calligraphy.'
After crossing several courts, they reached the Prince's quarters, and he led Roger into a spacious, well-lit studio. It contained not only specimens of beautiful writing on vellum, but also a number of drawing boards several square feet in size, upon which verses from the Koran had been inscribed. With charming modesty, the Prince explained that the quality of his work had become so esteemed that he was now commissioned to create these designs which would later be carved in stone by other craftsmen, then gilded to decorate new mosques.
While Roger was admiring these works of art, coffee and sweet cakes were brought; then, when they had partaken of these refreshments, the Prince courteously saw his guest out through the Gate of Felicity.
When Roger returned the following morning, he was led by the Kapi Aga through another maze of passages, then down through a garden gay with flowers, but shaded by many tall cypresses, to the great wall and a gate in it that gave on to the shore of the Golden Horn. Outside the wall stood two large, lofty pavilions from which there was a splendid view across the water of the shipping moored at the wharfs of Pera and the tiers of buildings rising steeply beyond the ship masts. Further along, towards Seraglio Point, were the boat-houses and, at the end of a jetty in front of one of them, lay a great, gilded barge. It was already manned by two score oarsmen.
Roger had made certain of arriving in good time, so a quarter of an hour elapsed while he stood on the foreshore. Then he heard a babble of laughing, girlish voices and turned to see that a bevy of veiled odalisques, escorted by black eunuchs, had emerged from the gate. Eyeing him with interest and chattering among themselves, the girls remained standing near him for a few minutes. Aimee—more heavily veiled than when Roger had seen her in her own apartments—accompanied by Fatima and Yussif, was the next to arrive on the scene. The chattering ceased, everyone made obeisance then, having greeted Roger most affably, Aimee led the way on board.
The stern of the caique was shaded by a great, silk canopy edged with gold braid and pearls. On a raised platform centrally beneath it stood a broad divan with many cushions. Grouped about it were a number of stools and on these the ladies settled themselves. To the stools there was one exception—a low-backed, comfortable, padded chair on the right of the divan. Aimee sat down in it and signed to Roger to take the stool nearest her.
He had hardly done so when the Sultan appeared, escorted by two huge Nubian guards. Today he was again clad in easy garments suitable to the summer weather, but he wore a jewelled belt from which hung a scimitar, the hilt and sheath of which were worth a king's ransom, and his turban was ablaze with precious gems.
His manner was now aloof and dignified. As he took his seat on the broad divan, he did not even acknowledge the deep obeisance made by everyone present. At a sharp command from him the barge was cast off and the forty rowers sank their oars into the water. With long strokes in perfect rhythm, the boat sped along, rounded the curve of Pera and turned up the Bosphorus.
Now that they were too distant from the shore for their faces to be seen distinctly, Selim relaxed a little and said to Aimee, 'Your ladies may talk if they wish,' then greeted Roger kindly. Again the babble of girlish voices broke out, and one of the girls began to strum on a guitar.
When they had progressed another half-mile Roger asked Aimee about Rumeli Hisar, to which they were going, as he had never heard of it.
'It is an ancient castle,' she replied. 'There are two of them: one on either side of the Bosphorus where it is at its narrowest. Rumeli Hisar is the one in Europe and Anadolu Hisar in Asia. They were built to defend Constantinople from an attack by sea from the north. Although there is little danger of that in these days, garrisons are maintained in both. From time to time we make an expedition to one or the other, simply for the outing; and the views from the battlements are truly beautiful.'
When they were opposite the castle, Roger saw that it was a formidable fortress surrounded by a wall that ran down on both sides of it to the water.
Preparations had been made for the reception of the Imperial party. The Commander of the garrison, Evliya Pasha, welcomed his sovereign with humble submission but evident pleasure. Scores of slaves then bore them all in liners up the steep hillside. Having admired the view from the battlements, they descended to the central courtyard. Awnings had been erected to shade it from the now blazing sun, and about it were set numerous divans with low tables.
Refreshments were then served; but no champagne today. Although Aimee had seduced the Osmanli Princes into sharing her enjoyment of "her favourite wine, they still did not dare ignore the prohibition of the Koran in public. Instead, there were refreshing sherbets and Hydromel—a honey-water, unfermented mead. With these were offered golden dishes of small, spiced buns, sweet cakes, rahat-lakoum, and a great variety of nuts and nougats. These proved to be the strange hors d'oeuvrcs to a gargantuan meal: whole sturgeons on huge platters, lobsters first boiled in their shells, roast ducks coated with honey, peacock pies decorated with the heads and feathers of the birds, great dishes of venison crowned with antlers, pilaus, kebabs and ragouts; followed by a dozen different puddings, each a masterpiece of the chef's artistry in the use of icing, spun sugar and crystallised fruit.
When at last the feast was over, the Sultan withdrew to enjoy a siesta inside the castle, while the rest of them remained to chat idly or doze on the divans, through the heat of the afternoon. On Selim's reappearance, everyone livened up. A dozen of the veiled odalisques swayed gracefully in an intricate dance, then others performed solo or in groups on instruments they had brought.
Roger looked on with mingled boredom and interest. The music meant nothing to him, but he found it intriguing to watch the women. Except for Aimee and Fatima, every one of them was straining her talent to the utmost, and by sinuous movements endeavouring to attract Selim's attention, in the hope that he might thro
w her the coveted handkerchief as the sign that he would summon her to his bed that night.
But the Sultan remained impassive, and Roger had the instinctive feeling that all this apparently light-hearted gaiety was forced. A secret fear seemed to lurk beneath the laughter and a foreboding of dark days to come. His belief that trouble was brewing and that they were all aware of it was strengthened when, long before sundown, Selim abruptly ended the party and ordered a return to the barge.
Silently they were borne in the litters down the hill and re-embarked. Almost in silence they were rowed back to the shore of Seraglio Point. As they landed, faint but menacing, they caught the sound of heavy spoons being beaten on the bottoms of kettles—that century-old indication that the Janissaries had become mutinous.
Crisis in the Seraglio
As the sound coming from the massed buildings up on the hill reached their ears, everyone who had been on the Imperial pleasure party immediately fell silent. In the stillness of the late afternoon, the sinister drumming came to them louder and more threatening. Into Roger's mind there flashed a picture of thousands of long-moustached, angry, armed men seated cross-legged: row upon row in the great Second Courtyard, beating rhythmically on their soup kettles with the long spoons that they habitually wore thrust through their turbans.
Aimee was standing beside him. In a swift whisper he said to her, 'You must return with me to the French Embassy. You will be safe there.'
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