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And the waters did recede, cascading over the cliff like a giant waterfall, leaving in their wake struggling fish and small crustaceans that scuttled across the gardens. The earth rocked again, a clap of thunder rent the air as the sky turned black as night, and the rain gushed down in torrents.
"Zala," said Lady Refet, "light some lamps so we may at least see."
The trembling girl obeyed, but even the flickering lights could not dispel the air of disaster that hung over them. The tremors continued, softer now, but threatening still. Suddenly a slave began to scream hysterically.
The young princes looked at her in disgust. The younger children were simply wide-eyed. Cyra quickly stepped up to the girl and slapped her sharply. "Stop it this instant, Ferilze. It is a bad earthquake, and that is all" The bas-kadin's voice was firm and a.s.sured, but her heart trembled and her mind repeated the same things over and over.
Where was Selim? He had been in Constantinople for a week. Was he still there? Was he safe? How had the quake been in the capital? She knew she must quiet these questions in her mind and tend to the business of keeping their lord's household calm and operational.
The sky began to lighten, and the rain stopped. Suddenly it was a perfect May afternoon, A fresh breeze blew down from the mountains, and the sun shone cheerily from the clear blue sky.
Cyra fell to her knees, and the others followed suit "There is no G.o.d but Allah, and Mohammed is His Prophet Praise to thee, o Allah, who has safely brought us through this danger," she said, then rose to her feet "I think we can safely say the worst is over. Let us return to the palace."
On trembling legs Prince Selim's household descended the twisting stairs of the tower and slowly walked across the sodden lawns to the Moonlight Serai.
The main porch of the palace showed a large crack. Cyra bent to inspect it. "It isn't deep," she noted. "It can be repaired."
In the main court Cyra took a lambskin-covered gold stick and hit the large gong several times. The earth trembled slightly as if in reply. Silently they waited, and then slowly the slaves began to creep out of their hiding places.
The bas-kadin made mental notes. Only two were missing. "Is anyone hurt?" she asked. "Where are Shem and Latife?"
The chief eunuch bustled forward with his usual annoying self-importance. Cyra deflated it quickly, her voice cutting.
"Where were you during the danger? We women had to see to the household while you hid your overstuffed carca.s.s, Allah knows where-probably in the storage cellars. Two slaves are missing. What do you know of this?"
The chief eunuch began to bl.u.s.ter, "As head of my lord Selim's household-"
"As head of my lord Selim's household, it was your duty to see first to our safety," snapped Cyra. "You did not Go to your quarters."
The eunuch drew his short frame to its full height. "Miserable woman," he squeaked, "who are you to speak to me thus?"
The other slaves gasped. Cyra answered slowly, deliberately, "I am our lord's bas-kadin and the mother of an imperial heir. Now go to your quarters, Ali. You are tired and obviously in shock."
Mortified, the small, fat man brushed past the other slaves. When he was gone, a farm slave came hesitantly forward. "Madam, when the quake struck, I saw Shem run to the pastures to free the master's horses. I do not know what happened to him after that."
"I do," said another slave. "He reached the pastures and freed the horses, but a large crack opened in the earth. He fell in, and it closed again before I could help him."
Another slave spoke up. "Latife is dead, I think, my lady. A hanging lamp came loose and fell on her head. She lies in the hallway between the harem and the prince's quarters."
Cyra quietly directed slaves to put the shaken household back in order. She sent other slaves to see whether the unfortunate Latife had indeed been killed. She had not Sarina gathered up her gardeners and rushed off to inspect her precious gardens.
The high walls surrounding the prince's estate had been completely destroyed; there were several large fissures that had not closed on the grounds, and the fields were completely torn up. However, all the buildings had remained standing, except two sheds. There were some large cracks, but no serious damage. The slaves, save Shem, were all alive, as well as the farm animals and the prince's horses. This happy news was delivered to Cyra and Lady Refet by the eunuch Anber. Cyra looked at this dark man, who reminded her so much of Hadji Bey and who was Hadji Bey's protege.
"Where were you during the quake, Anber?"
"I gathered as many of the household slaves as I could and led them to safety, my lady kadin."
"Are you loyal to our master, Anber?"
"I would do all within my power to protect him, madam."
"I think we shall soon have a need of a new chief eunuch."
A smile split the ebony face.
"How sad it will be to lose our good Ali."
"I hear and obey, my lady."
"It must be a completely natural death, Anber."
"Perhaps a bit of poppy," suggested Lady Refet quietly. "Sometimes the hand is apt to slip."
They smiled at one another in complete understanding, and Anber backed slowly from the room.
"Ali will be no loss," observed Cyra.
"He is Besma's best spy," replied Lady Refet "I would give my ermine-lined pelisse to see the look on her face when she learns of his sad demise."
"I have a feeling," whispered Cyra, "that the time of my dear lord's triumph draws near. We must surround ourselves only with those who are loyal. We have allowed Besma's spies their freedom for too many years."
Lady Refet reached out and took Cyra's hand in hers. "How I bless that day seventeen years ago when you came to us. You are more Turkish than I am, and so good for Selim."
"Loyalty and ambition are not just Turkish traits, sweet madam. They are Scots as well, and as to my being very Turkish, why should I not be? I have lived more than half my life here."
"We have spoken only once, dear child, of the time you came to us, and it was so long ago. If it no longer pains you, will you answer a question?"
"If I can," said Cyra.
"Were you never afraid? You, Firousi, and Zuleika were the calmest girls I ever saw enter the sultan's seraglio. I would have expected it from Zuleika, since she is an Easterner by birth, but you and Firousi were Christian maidens."
"The events in my life had moved so quickly that I was in shock," replied Cyra. "The night I was auctioned on the block in Candia, I did feel fear. It was warm, and yet, stripped naked on that platform, I felt frozen. My shame lasted but a short while, though it seemed forever. Hadji Bey bought me, wrapped me in his cloak, and whisked me off to his house, where I was given clothing and the immediate company of my two friends. We vowed that night that we should be true to one another no matter what our fate brought If we were to be slaves, we would be powerful ones. After that there was no time for fear. A whole new world opened for us. A stupid woman would have wept and begged for death at her supposed shame. We chose life, and all it could bring us. Too soon do we meet with death."
The older woman stared at the younger. "Through the ages there have been only a few women such as you, my child. How fortunate my nephew is to have you."
As darkness fell, the slaves lit the lamps and brought the evening meal. Tremors still shook the earth gently at intervals. The two women ate silently, each content in the knowledge that the danger was past, and each lost in her own thoughts.
The moon rose pure and white in a dark velvet sky, preening itself in the now quiet sea. Night sounds-the cry of the hunting owl, a soft, sighing breeze, the chirrup of young frogs in a nearby marsh-filled the air rea.s.suringly. Nature was regaining her composure.
The following morning, young Suleiman visited his mother's quarters as she breakfasted. Sitting across from her and helping himself to some fruit he announced, "Mohammed and I are going to ride into Constantinople to look for father."
"You are not" answered his mother calmly.
"But we must" cried the boy. "Father could be dead or injured! Who would care for him? Do you think that she-camel Besma would not use the earthquake as an excuse to murder my father?"
"Suleiman!" Cyra's voice snapped a warning, "I trust your grandfather to see to your father's safety. Besides, the sultan is at the Yeni Serai, and you know that the harem lives at the Eski Serai." She spoke in English as she always did when she did not want the slaves to understand her. "Besides, my son, your father is probably on his way back to us by now."
Proudly drawing himself up, the boy said "I am almost fifteen, madam, and a man. In my father's absence I am head of this household Has he not always said so? It is my decision to take Mohammed my brother, and ride to Constantinople to look for our father."
Two pairs of eyes, one green, the other gray-green, blazed across the table at one another.
"Do not play the Grand Turk with me, my lad" said Cyra. "You are now, and will always be, my son. Do you think your father or grandfather would forgive me if I allowed you this folly and you came to harm? You are an heir! Where is your wisdom? Would you leave this house of women and children unprotected?"
"The soldiers would protect you," the boy replied sullenly.
"And who is to lead them should it be necessary? Am I to put on armor and ride into battle while you wander about the capital?"
The boy looked at his intensely feminine young mother, with her undressed red-gold hair loose about her shoulders, and burst out laughing.
"I fail to see what is so funny," she said He choked back his mirth. "Dearest bulbul, you are so pretty, yet in your anger I see in your eyes the ghost of your Scots ancestors. I can well imagine you armored and riding into battle."
Reaching across the table, she grabbed a handful of his dark hair and yanked hard "Ouch!" he protested struggling to escape her.
"Have you no respect for your mother?" she laughed "I humbly beg your pardon, bulbul."
She relinquished her hold and became serious again. "Perhaps it is time you were kept more fully informed Suleiman. You are near to a man, though it amazes me to see you so. After the quake yesterday, I sent a message to Constantinople. Hadji Bey's pigeons are reliable under any circ.u.mstances. We should have an answer soon. Let us wait until then."
He gave in gracefully, knowing in his heart that she was right and feeling a trifle foolish that he should have allowed his emotions to overcome his own common sense.
Toward late afternoon a weary bird fluttered through the open portico into Cyra's salon. Picking the exhausted creature up, she felt its heartbeat beneath her hand. Brave soldier, she thought, removing the capsuled message from its leg. Giving the bird to a slave, she instructed that it be fed and watered before being returned to the cote.
She sat down and, opening the container, withdrew a slip of paper. The message in Hadji Bey's familiar hand was written in the dialect of the agha's native land. He had taught Selim's kadins this ancient tongue when they had first come to Turkey. It was used in all their personal correspondence, thus confounding would-be spies.
The message was brief. Selim and the rest of the imperial family was safe. The palaces, public and government buildings were damaged, but not badly. The capital, however, was in ruins. Huge waves had poured over the city walls. Scores of people were dead or injured. The sultan and the court were moving to Adrianople. Selim would accompany them before returning home. Under no circ.u.mstances were they to leave the palace.
Reading the message through twice, she placed it in a small brazier and watched until the coals completely consumed it She called to a slave and instructed him to a.s.semble the family at once.
They came quickly, the adult women and the three oldest boys. She told them Hadji Bey's message, and they shared her relief regarding Selim Cyra then sent for the chief eunuch, Ali Anber brought her word that the chief eunuch was ill and could not leave his bed. Concern in her voice, she instructed that Ali be looked after with the utmost care. The listening slaves marveled that the bas-kadin could be so kind to one who had spoken so rudely to her.
Ali died peacefully the next day, and Cyra, with the approval of Lady Refet and the other kadins, appointed the eunuch Anber to his place.
Aftershocks continued for the next month and a half, but they were mild and none so severe as the first quake. There was a great deal to do regarding the repair of the estate. Selim sent word that he would remain with his father until things were more settled.
To a.s.suage their loneliness, the prince's kadins threw themselves into an orgy of work. With the slaves and workmen from nearby villages already busy with the Moonlight Serai and its grounds, Cyra sent small troups of Tartars throughout the province to a.s.sess the extent of the damage.
Reports came in daily, and after the four kadins had carefully read them all, the soldiers were sent out again with gifts of dinars and food from Selim's own storehouses. Slowly the area returned to normal. Homes were repaired, farm animals rounded up or replaced, fields replanted, wounds healed-and, most important of all, bellies were filled. The name of Prince Selim, on the tongue of every man, woman, and child in the region, was blessed six times daily.
In mid-July the four wives of Sultan Bajazct's younger son could sit back and smile with satisfaction at a job well done. The aftershocks had stopped entirely. Everything was back to normal in their small world, and already the hot summer sun was encouraging the wheat to great height It seemed that after the terrible devastation of early May, nature was on her best behavior.
One afternoon as Cyra sat quietly sewing, the chief eunuch admitted a dust-stained messenger to her presence. Selim was coming home! "He cannot be far behind me, my lady, though the people in the village will scarce let him by with the singing of his praises. I rode as fast as I could."
"You have done well," she replied through her veil. "Anber, see that the prince's messenger is offered refreshment before he goes to his quarters, and inform my aunt and sisters of his message."
Thus dismissing them, she called to her own slaves to prepare her bath and fresh garments.
Prince Selim, his troup of Tartar cavalry riding smartly behind him, arrived home to be greeted by his four lovely wives, who, forgetting protocol and decorum, ran from the main portico to meet him. Leaping from his horse, he flung open his arms and managed, by a miracle known to Allah alone, to enfold them all.
The soldiers nudged each other and grinned down from their horses in delight Here was a man-a prince to be sultan someday! Four beautiful and devoted wives, for though their faces were veiled to all men save their lord, the slave girls spoke often of the kadins' beauty.
Selim stood there, travel-stained and weary, his four women laughing and crying their joy at his return. Then his sons, following their mothers' example and leaving restraint behind, dashed from the palace to meet him. Suleiman, fifteen next month, led the pack. Four-year-old Prince Nureddin, the youngest brought up the rear on chubby, dimpled legs. Nine fine boys. The ten-year-old princesses, Hale and Guzel, six-year-old Nilufer, and even the littlest princess, Mihri-Chan, waited decorously beneath the main portico. As Selim and his party reached them, Nilufer, who had inherited her mother's delicate features and her incredible green eyes, flung herself on him, smothering him with kisses, and then promptly begged to be put upon her father's horse.
"She is learning your ways, my love," laughed the prince. "First a compliment then the request. She is not so subtle as you, but then she is still young." He bent down and lifted the child up into the saddle. "You may take him to the stables, Nilufer. Can you do it?"
Her eyes s.h.i.+ning, the child gathered up the reins. "Yes, father."
"Selim," protested Cyra, "she is too little for such a big horse."
"She is an Ottoman princess, and all Ottomans ride well naturally." He tapped the horse lightly on the rump, and it trotted off to the stable with Nilufer proudly on its back. The prince turned to his men. "You have done well, my Tartars. Go now and enjoy the pleasures of the bath. This evening there will be feasting and entertainment for you all." Turning back to his family, he escorted them into the palace. "Tonight I shall dine with my oldest sons and their mothers." A slave took his dusty cape while another removed his dirty boots.
"Cyra, come with me, I want to speak with you." He strode off to his quarters. "How is my aunt? Why did she not greet me?"
"She is very well, my lord, but exhausted from her labors these past weeks. She bade me ask you to visit her when you have bathed and changed."
He nodded, then queried, "What in Allah's name did you do to the people of this province? There wasn't a village where I wasn't stopped and offered a selection of refreshments and nubile virgins."
They entered his apartments.
She laughed. "I simply distributed food and gold in your name following the earthquake. Did you not notice that the homes are all repaired and the fields filled with growing grain?"
"I did. Except for a few scars on the land itself, you would not know the quake had touched this region."
"But it did, dearest. The waters from the sea swept all through our estate. Had it not been for the storm that followed, we would have been a salt desert now."
"I thank Allah you were not in the city, my dove. The waters poured over the city walls. Hundreds were drowned. What wasn't ruined by the waters burned in the fires that followed. The sultan himself narrowly escaped death. The sea inundated his private apartments at the Yeni Serai. He had left them but an hour before. Three slaves who were cleaning the rooms were drowned."
"How horrible! We were lucky in losing only one slave."
The prince continued his story. "We set up tents in the gardens of the Eski Serai, but when it became apparent that the aftershocks would continue, the sultan moved the court and government to Adrianople. Before we left, he opened the granaries to the people of the city, and for the time I was with him in Adrianople, he did nothing but plan the rebuilding and repair of Constantinople. It has started already. Poor father was so worried about my family. However, Hadji Bey a.s.sured him you were all safe. Besma was naturally quite disappointed to hear you were all out of danger."
"That woman!" hissed Cyra, her eyes narrowing. Then, remembering, she spoke again. "My lord, you must forgive me for acting without your authority, but it became necessary to dispose of the chief eunuch, AIL He was Besma's spy."
"Ali?"
"Yes, my lord. Once I told you I did not know who Besma's spies were. I spoke the truth. However, several years ago Hadji Bey felt it best that I know. The others were a white eunuch in your aunt's quarters, a bath attendant, and one of the slave girls attached to my suite. Ali died an apparently natural death." Selim raised an eyebrow, but Cyra continued. "I have appointed Hadji Bey's protege Anber to the position of chief eunuch."
The prince nodded his approval. "And the others, my love?"
"The slave girl I rewarded for her service to me by marrying her to a prosperous farmer in the region who has always been of service to us. The bath attendant slipped while alone in the baths, hit her head, and drowned. The white eunuch was caught trying to run away with half of Lady Refet's jewels in his pockets. It was necessary to execute him as an example to the other slaves that we will not tolerate that sort of thing."
Selim whistled softly. "I shall be glad when I succeed to the sultanate, my dear wife, to have you on my side, and not against me."
"I regret having to take these actions, but I feel that the time is approaching when you will a.s.sume your fated duties. If we are not safe from Besma in our own household, we are safe nowhere. Bajazet will not live forever, and when he goes to Paradise, our battle begins. You cannot be held back through worrying about us. We are a household of women and children, but with this province loyal, and surrounded by faithful slaves, we can withstand anything."
Tenderly he drew her to him. He smelled of sweat and horses. "How I pity Rudolfo di San Lorenzo. With you at his side, he might have ruled all Europe."