“I was in time to watch as the Head Eunuch escorted Sophie into my father’s chambers. She trembled, but approached the bed and knelt as she had been told.
“ ‘Kucuk,’ he said, ‘my little one. You do not have to approach my feet. Come to me here to my breast and I will comfort you.’
“Sophie gasped. She had prepared herself for the ritual my mother had described and was ready to obey mindlessly, refusing to think of what she was doing. To have to respond to kindness was too unsettling.
“She stood near him but did not move.
“He lifted the sheets and when she did not approach, the eunuch gently took her arm and led her to the bed.
“ ‘Come, lie next to me and do not tremble so.’
“Sophie could not help herself. She shook as she crept into my father’s bed.
“I saw his hands, huge, crusted with rings, mottled brown against her pale skin. The bones beneath her flesh were so delicate, so fine. Then his hands turned her over onto her stomach. She disappeared beneath him, a swimmer drowning beneath a wave, and I heard her whimper. A tiny sound. I can hear it still. I saw the look of pure animal lust on his face as he took her.
“And I hated him.
“I felt the eunuch reach for my hand.
“ ‘See what beasts men can be,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘Is a woman really freer than a eunuch?’ he asked. ‘Even a princess?’
“ ‘Never,’ I whispered, my voice so hoarse, I had to swallow hard to utter the single word. ‘I’ll never let a man take me like an animal.’
“Sophie whimpered again and my father laughed. Triumph, not joy.
“ ‘Revenge and to Hades with all men!’ I said, biting my hand to keep from screaming.
“ ‘And when the time comes, enlist me to enforce your will,’ cooed the eunuch. ‘I shall serve you well, for my revenge will find comfort, nestled in yours.’ ”
In the silence, Postivich studied Esma Sultan’s face. And he saw something new there, a new kind of sadness—somehow sweet and vulnerable, yet still angry.
Then she took a deep breath and only the anger remained.
“Sophie was lifted from the Sultan’s bed by the eunuch. She was too sore and mortified to move and my father had lost interest in her once he had taken his pleasure.
“ ‘Take her to the harem,’ he commanded. ‘Have Saliha cleanse her. The girl is not to see any of the harem nor receive their congratulations until she can compose herself.’
“The eunuch craddled her in his arms. She covered her face with the blanket he wrapped about her, sobbing silently into the woolen folds.
“I ran ahead of the stumbling Emerald, making my way back through the darkness to the Serail. My cloak flying behind me, I raced across the courtyard and into the corridor just as the palace eunuch delivered Sophie to my mother’s embrace.
“My mother received Sophie from the eunuch’s arms.
“ ‘I will prepare the hamam,’ he said. ‘She is to be cleansed thoroughly. She shall use the private hamam and not the communal baths.’
“I stood behind my mother, who pressed Sophie’s face deep into the flesh of her bosom. The girl’s face was contorted and deep red. She convulsed in her weeping so that I was certain she was going to choke and die.
“ ‘She will be all right, Esma. Summon the eunuch to carry her to the bathhouse.’
“Within minutes we were in the private hamam, reserved for special ceremonial ablutions. The candles had been lit and the water trickled from the pipes into the pool of water.
“The eunuch set Sophie on the wooden stool and tried to take off the blanket.
“ ‘No,’ she screamed. ‘NO! NO!’
“ ‘Myrrh,’ said my mother to the eunuch. ‘Let her keep the blanket about her for now.’
“ ‘But I must witness the ablutions.’
“ ‘NO!’ screamed Sophie and she began to choke again.
“ ‘If you remain in her sight, she will wake every woman in the harem and bring shame to the Sultan. I know of what I speak.’
“The eunuch looked anxiously at the sobbing girl and nodded.
“ ‘I will have to inspect her before she returns to the apartments,’ he said, moving away. He disappeared into the corridors of the hamam.
“My mother dipped the sponge in the copper bucket and pressed it to the girl’s genitals.
“Sophie whispered. ‘Not there,
“My mother looked at her incredulously.
“ ‘Not there,’ Sophie repeated, her voice trembling.
“My mother gasped, realizing what she meant. ‘The demon.’
“With the softest touch, she turned Sophie over, as if she were going to spank her like a toddler. She dabbed the sponge between her buttocks and drew it back again, bloodied.
“ ‘Go instruct the eunuchs to light the brazier and make up a warm divan close to it,’ said my mother in a cold voice. ‘I need to speak with Sophie alone.’
“My mother carried Sophie to the divan almost an hour later. I could tell by the smell on their clothes that she had given the girl opium and may well have taken some herself. Clutched in Sophie’s hands was the toy horse I had given her.
“ ‘Let her sleep, Esma,’ said my mother, stroking her hair. ‘Let her sleep as long as the angels will allow her rest.’
“The Valide Sultan summoned Sophie the next day. My mother tried to protect her.
“ ‘Please tell the Valide that the girl is not well. She will remain in bed today under my care.’
“ ‘The Valide Sultan instructed me to bring Sophie to her,’ said the eunuch. He did not move from the doorway.
“ ‘You will have to make her understand that she is very ill. It would be a mistake to move her.’
“The eunuch reluctantly left and an hour later, the old Valide came to our door, leaning on her cane. She was dressed in midnight-blue silks and looked like an old peacock standing on one leg.
“ ‘I have been told that Sophie is ill. I must see her at once!’ she snapped.
“The Valide poked her cane through the doorway and thrashed it vigorously, so that we all staggered clear. She hobbled through the apartment to the small room with the brazier still glowing bright, its fiery coals warming the girl who lay next to it.
“Sophie lifted her head weakly, bewildered by the sudden burst of activity as the Valide and her entourage of eunuchs entered the bedroom. She was recovering from an opium stupor and blinked hard, trying to focus her eyes.
“ ‘What ails you, girl?’ the Valide demanded.
“ ‘I—I… ’
“ ‘Well, what is it?’
“ ‘She is still—unwell—from last night,’ said my mother, folding her arms across her chest.
“The Valide Sultane turned on my mother, scowling.
“ ‘This girl has been made a concubine and the praises and congratulations of the entire harem and the city itself are waiting to be received. The women wait in the hamam to comb her hair and braid it with pearls. Their hands are full of petals to strew in the ceremonial baths to welcome their sister as they have already welcomed the newly favored Rushdah, who has been bathed and is now resting. The seamstress waits to make her new clothes appropriate for her status!’ said the Valide.
“My mother’s face fell as she slowly comprehended. ‘She is a concubine, but this ceremony is reserved for—’
“ ‘The Sultan has prepared special apartments for her that are adjacent to his own. Yes, she is declared his “favorite,” along with Rushdah and shall receive all special privileges that are befitting! He will see her many nights for apparently she has given him great pleasure.’
“This was a particular jab at my mother, who once had lived in those same apartments when she was the Sultan’s favorite. But my mother was stronger than the Valide gave her credit for. She pushed back her auburn hair, now streaked with grey that even the strongest henna couldn’t hide.
“ ‘I am
sure that Sophie will appreciate this reception more when she has had enough rest. We must tell the women of the harem to expect her when she is ready to accept their congratulations by this evening.’
“ ‘Phhhst—I will tell them what I wish, without any advice from a used-up sponge like you! He means to make her a wife! Though I do not understand how my son could waste his ardor on a girl who is not prepared to give him a child! One night is an indulgence, but to be made a wife before she has become a woman is a blasphemy! Night after night of spilt seed. I have trained so many women to give him pleasure who are ready to conceive sons for the Ottoman Empire. Bah! I cannot stand to look at her, the bewitching little whore!’
“I stood in horror, listening to my grandmother. I could not understand how she could be so blind to a man’s wrongs, even if he was her only son and Sultan of the Empire. It was this moment when I realized a man’s word could poison woman against innocent woman if she surrendered to its violence, and indeed a woman could be the uglier beast.
“I was aware Sophie was moving now, raising herself out of the divan, her nightclothes clinging to her small frame. Her face was no longer frightened, but contorted in anger, a blind rage I had never seen before in a woman, nor seen since.
“ ‘I see the lazy girl has enough stamina to get out of bed after all,’ said the Valide, poking her cane viciously at the girl. ‘I want to know—how could my son prefer you to Iris, the Armenian dancer I brought to him last week? You who have no breasts, no hips, no womanhood at all. I cannot abide this decision, yet he insists that you must be moved to the favorite’s apartments. His precious seed will fall on a barren womb, night after night’
“ ‘The Sultan’s seed has not dampened my womb, Valide Sultan,’ Sophie said, her voice growing strong with her fury.
“ ‘What?’
“Sophie straightened, looking the Valide in the eye—which was the most disrespectful gesture I have ever seen in Topkapi. All except the royal family look at the floor when addressing the Sultan or his family.
“Her voice clear and steady, despite her pallor, Sophie said, ‘I am still a virgin.’
“ ‘Virgin? What are you saying, you little fool?’
“ ‘Hush, girl,’ warned my mother, in a low whisper. ‘You do not know what you are saying. She is the fire and you are a stick!’
“ ‘Of course you are not a virgin, you whore!’ said the Valide, turning to the eunuch, who nodded affirmatively. ‘I’ve seen the sheets and they were wet with blood.’
“ ‘The Sultan did make me bleed. But it was not where a virgin bleeds. It was where the little boys bleed—the little boys he prefers.’
“The Valide thumped her cane hard on the floor and the Head Eunuch brought her a stool. She collapsed and looked around the room dazed.
“ ‘You accuse my son, the Sultan, of beastly acts?’ gasped the Valide. ‘You little wretched slave, I will have you strangled for treason!’
“ ‘I am not a boy and I am still a virgin. He who is the protector of the Koran, God’s Shadow on Earth, should remember the first suras.’
“ ‘You will be silenced by Allah and the Prophet, I swear it! Eunuch! Silence her!’
“ ‘Madame, I cannot! She has been declared the Sultan’s favorite and it is not within my power—’
“ ‘Silence her, I say! Strangle the infidel, a demon possesses her!’
“ ‘I know the first sura. I was forced to learn such suras by heart, Valide Sultan.’
“Sophie opened her mouth and pronounced the words in Arabic as she had been taught by the Iman. Words that forbid exactly the act the Sultan had committed with her.
“ ‘Silence, you little demon!’ the Valide screeched. ‘I shall have your tongue torn from its roots.’
“ ‘Silence? Yes, a fine Ottoman trait! Silence and peace I shall have!’
“And with that, Sophie tipped over the brazier, hot with coals. My first reaction was to jump back. But my mother lunged forward, understanding in an instant. But the young girl was too quick. She seized a red hot coal and crammed it into her mouth.
“We heard the sizzle of wet flesh and the choking scream—though to this day, I cannot tell you whether it was my mother or Sophie who made the cry of anguish.”
And again there was silence in the room.
Esma Sultan stared straight ahead. She did not look at the janissary, but seemed to be watching the last dim vestiges of the memory fade from her mind’s eye.
“And it was then that I knew I must create my harem. A home for women where we do not live in fear of men. There is no other sanctuary like this in the world. My father died only a few days later of a paralysis that seized his body and mind. I can only believe it was Allah’s punishment for what he had done, and in the vacuum of sorrow that filled the palace, I was free to act, with the blessing of my cousin Selim, the new Sultan. He was the power that set free the women from the Palace of Tears and allowed me to buy the beautiful slaves that were mistreated in the markets. I gave them the chance to reclaim their freedom. Some did and some did not. But Sophie came with me joyfully, for her life was already destroyed. Her beauty was ravaged. Her mother had died and her beloved brother was lost to her.
“And so she stayed on, even when she was given her freedom.”
Esma Sultan reached for the little gold bell that stood on a mother-of-pearl table.
“I can see by your expression that you do not believe my words, nor my knowledge of women’s hearts. You will be quickly persuaded of my truth.”
Her hand shook the bell, making a fine tinkling sound that hung in the air. Saffron instantly appeared.
“Send for Irena.”
Saffron looked at Postivich and back at the Sultaness, then turned on his heel and left.
“Irena? Irena is a Serbo-Croatian name. And—”
He started to say more, but Esma Sultan broke in. “Do you think I learn nothing from my subjects?” said the Princess in perfect Serbo-Croatian. “And what language did you think my precious Sophie spoke?”
Ivan Postivich shook his massive head in astonishment as the language of his homeland spilled from the Ottoman Princess’s mouth.
But it was the next sight that truly stole his power to speak. For as the fair-haired, veiled woman entered the room, he knew her instantly, if only by her eyes. Even with the years that had passed, he had not a moment’s hesitation. These were the eyes of his sister.
“Irena. I know that you and your brother must have time to speak. I shall leave the two of you alone. I will return at dawn, so that you have time to share all that you must.”
“Stop!” said Ivan Postivich, as Esma Sultan started for the door. “I beg of you!”
“Yes, my impertinent janissary. What is it?”
“Your story—it was…?”
Esma Sultan smiled. “My story was exactly correct, but for the fact I called her Sophie in my tale, so you would not recognize her. I simply never cared for the name Irena. Irena means peace… Bah! You must never let anyone know where she is, Ivan Postivich, or you jeopardize her life. She shall remain Bezm-i Alem for the outside world. For if my brother knows for certain her whereabouts, he would give anything to have her in his bed at Topkapi. And I think she would rather kill herself than surrender to masculine hands again.”
With that, the Sultaness disappeared in a flutter of handmaidens who escorted her into her exquisite gardens.
Ivan Postivich rushed to embrace his sister. He was not surprised when she removed her veil and revealed the pearl-colored scars that ringed her mouth. He kissed her cheeks over and over again, wetting them with his tears.
“Ivan, my brother,” she cried.
For the first time in many years, Bezm-i Alem heard her brother speak her name aloud in Serbo-Croatian.
“Irena,” he whispered, his massive body convulsing with emotion. “Irena!”
Chapter 9
Sister and brother spent the night together in the apartments of E
sma Sultan. Ivan Postivich’s tears bathed the scarred flesh of his sister’s face.
She retraced her life from loss to joy to pain. Esma Sultan had rescued her, sheltered her, and treated her as a sister. And in the end it was the kindness of women that had comforted her after she had traded her physical beauty for the sanctity of being an untouchable, protected by her wounds.
Ivan Postivich smoothed her hair with his great paw of a hand and burrowed his face into the space where her neck met her shoulder. He breathed in the unforgettable scent of his home and family and wept uncontrollably for his dead mother. He confessed his life to her in stages throughout the night, in chapters of recollections that came to him in the hours of darkness.
As dawn approached and the light of the rising sun rendered the flickering candles unnecessary, two Circassian servants silently entered the room to extinguish the flames. The slave girls saw the favorite of Esma Sultan in the arms of Ahmed Kadir and smiled inwardly. That the giant had chosen the most unfortunate of the harem women as his lover spoke of secrets of the soul and not just the lusts of the body. They thanked Allah for the generosity of their mistress who had allowed a man’s touch to at last caress the burnt flesh of the Sultaness’s favorite companion.
“Praise Allah,” they whispered to each other as they silently closed the door on the whispering couple.
Irena and her brother whispered their secrets through the dawn and into the day. They had lost their dear family home, their language, and their religion. Their mother died of grief and hardship, with no one left to help her through the hard Serbian winters.
Brother and sister, they had lost everything, but now they had regained each other. Irena’s soul was filled, and like the water that escapes the overflowing lip of a fountain, her spirit spilled over with joy.
As the sun burned higher in the sky, Esma joined them. She refused any gratitude. She didn’t let them speak. Instead, she warned them that their secret would be revealed eventually to the Sultan. She reached out her hand to Irena’s shoulder, holding it gently.
“It would be best if you told him yourself. Secrets are like air. They disperse and travel freely, no matter how you try to keep them from escaping. Should Emerald learn of our secret, we shall die of suffocation. Better you find the best time to use the information to our advantage than to have the eunuch carry the secret to Topkapi.”
The Drowning Guard: A Novel of the Ottoman Empire Page 17