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Skye O'Malley: A Love For All Time Part 38

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During her whole life Esther Kira had abided by the laws of her faith, and her faith had never failed her. Still she had tried not to disturb the mighty Yahweh with matters to which she could eventually find the solution herself. Now, however, Esther Kira prayed for a solution that would help her to resolve her divided loyalties.

When that solution appeared it was so sudden that she almost lost her opportunity. She had come to the palaces with some especially fine examples of Brusa silk that Lord Bliss had brought to her from his expedition. The handsome Irishman had been very disappointed that she had not come up with a solution to his problem, but she had sent him back to his s.h.i.+p to await any further developments, developments she did not expect to be forthcoming.

Arriving at the palace she found that the sultan was entertaining the harem that afternoon, but because of her closeness with the valideh she was invited to join them. Murad was looking particularly handsome that day. He was wearing a beautiful cloth-of-gold robe lined in yellow satin and embroidered with red velvet plumes. Atop his head he wore a turban of white decorated with two small ropes of rubies, and a broad red plume. His golden-red beard had been recently trimmed, and was perfumed with sandalwood, and his dark eyes were bright with excitement.

It had not been an unusual fete. There had been the usual entertainments, and refreshments, and it had been a time for the women of Murad's harem, who numbered close to a thousand at this point, to don their finest clothing, and parade themselves before the sultan in hopes of catching his eye. Murad had been seated upon a pillowed dais beneath a carved wooden canopy with Safiye leaning against him on the right, and Marjallah leaning against his left shoulder. Each woman was garbed beautifully. Safiye, with her dark red hair, was wearing garments of forest green and gold while the lighter coppery-haired Marjallah had chosen turquoise and silver.

Murad had never felt more content in his entire life. He ruled a mighty empire, and in his harem were the most beautiful women in the entire world. On either side of him were his two favorites, each of whom was devoted to him, each of whom loved him. A servant bent low offering him a platter of perfect fruits. He turned to Marjallah, and smiling she reached out to the tray to take the fruit knife upon it, and plunged it into his chest. The room erupted into screaming pandemonium; and Esther Kira knew that her time had come as the black eunuchs surrounding Murad leapt forward to drag Marjallah off their master.



The sultan could not believe that she had attacked him despite the evidence of his own eyes. The knife was lodged within his flesh, and already blood was seeping out from around it. The black eunuchs were roughly dragging Aidan from the room. She was weeping wildly in her frustration at having failed to kill him, but at least now, she thought, they will give me what I want which is death.

"No!" Murad's voice was weak, but clear. "I want her here!"

The valideh nodded at the black eunuchs who stopped in their tracks, still clutching Aidan. The room was quickly cleared of all but Aidan and her captors, Safiye, the valideh, Esther Kira, Murad, and the sultan's doctor, a Greek with a fortunately cool head. Quickly the doctor examined the sultan, and then he said to them, "I must take the knife out, my lord, and there will be some blood, but praise to Allah, the wound is not serious. Your a.s.sailant has missed your heart by a wide margin, and no other vital organ or artery has been cut. Have I your permission to remove the weapon?"

Murad nodded, and with no further delay the doctor drew the knife carefully from the sultan's chest. Almost at once the wound began to bleed, and the doctor's slave stanched the blood while the sultan was laid back, and the wound disinfected and st.i.tched closed. Murad was then propped back up, and his eyes sought for, and found Aidan.

"Bring her here to me," he whispered for he was weak with shock, and blood loss.

A eunuch on either side of her Aidan was brought before the sultan.

"Marjallah," he said softly, and when she raised her head to look at him he was astounded by the hatred in her eyes which reached out to him, and with icy fingers wrapped itself around his heart. "But I loved you, exquisite one."

"Love?" She burst into hysterical laughter.

She is mad, thought Esther Kira. That is what has been distressing me!

"Love," repeated Aidan bitterly. "You, my lord, do not know the first thing about love! l.u.s.t is your metier! If you truly understood about love you would have never put Safiye aside to sport among other women. If you understood love you would have had the decency to allow me a time to mourn Javid Khan, but no! You would allow me no time to weep for that good and gentle man. You could barely wait to bring me to your bed where you brutalized and humiliated me! I hate you! I hated it every time you touched me! My only regret is that I did not succeed in killing you, my lord! I chose both the wrong time, and the wrong weapon, and I had no time in which to kill myself! Now, however, you must kill me, and if you really feel anything for me then that will be my revenge upon you! You will go to your grave knowing that you were responsible for my death!" And Aidan burst out laughing, a chilling sound that sent a s.h.i.+ver down the spines of all in the room.

Murad groaned with agony at her words. Never had he been repudiated by a woman, and in such a fas.h.i.+on. "Confine her to her apartment," he ordered, and fell back exhausted with the effect his words had cost him. There were tears in his eyes as they took her from the Sultan's Hall.

A litter was brought, and Murad was carried to his bedchamber to be watched over by Safiye, and later on by his mother. Now, however, Nur-U-Banu needed a few minutes to herself for she was shocked at the turn of events of this afternoon. Esther Kira went with the valideh, and when they had reached her apartments, and Nur-U-Banu had been settled by her women she turned to Esther Kira and said, "Why did I not listen to you, Esther? Have you ever given me bad advice? Never! If my son had been killed I should have never forgiven myself!"

"But he is not dead, nor anywhere near it, Yahweh be praised!" She paused, and then asked, "What will happen to Marjallah?"

"She must die!" was the immediate answer.

"She is mad, you know," replied Esther, "and that madness was brought about, forgive me dear friend for saying it, by the sultan who could not wait for her to mourn Javid Khan."

"I know that," said Nur-U-Banu, "and in a way I blame myself for I might have discouraged Murad's pa.s.sion long enough for Marjallah to recover from her grief, but I did not! I wanted my son to be happy, and he believed he could not be happy without Marjallah."

"He will have to be happy without her now," said Esther Kira. "Will it be done the usual way?"

"Yes. She will be placed in a weighted silk sack, and drowned off the Prince's Island in the Mamara."

"When?"

"It will be up to my son," said Nur-U-Banu.

"No, my dear lady," said Esther Kira boldly. "You must take the responsibility for this execution. The sultan is a man in love, and he will not want to see her killed, but it must be done. Not only did she attempt his death, but she said the most terrible things to him, and those words were heard by the physician and his a.s.sistant as well as the eunuchs and ourselves. The physician will be silent for he would not jeopardize his position, but the eunuchs will gossip, and by dawn the entire palace will know what Lady Marjallah said to the sultan, and it will not be an accurate version of her words, but rather a greatly embroidered tale.

"With every hour Marjallah continues to live the tale will grow, undermining the sultan's authority. Then there is her nationality. She is English, and the sultan is just beginning to enjoy his relations.h.i.+p with the English. Has not the English queen just sent him a boatload of fine gifts? If the English find out that Marjallah is one of them that budding diplomatic relations.h.i.+p could be destroyed. It should be done today. Before the sultan has the chance to even think about it, and it is you, my dear lady, who should make that decision. Let the judgment be swift!"

"You are right, Esther Kira," said Nur-U-Banu. "Murad will weaken, and forgive her, and she will continue to be trouble to us. If I had listened to you in the first place this would have never happened. I cannot forgive myself until Marjallah is dead!"

"You must show mercy in your judgment, my dear lady," counseled Esther Kira. "Marjallah's grief is what drove her to this act of madness, and we know that the mad are special to G.o.d. Let me go from you now, and I will return as quickly bringing with me a rare drug which will render her unconscious. You need not be unkind in carrying out her sentence of execution. The G.o.d we both wors.h.i.+p does not abhor mercy."

The sultan valideh nodded. "Hurry, Esther Kira! I would do this before the day ends, and there are but two hours till the sunset."

When Esther Kira had gone the valideh's own personal doctor came to offer her a sedative, but Nur-U-Banu refused it, and sent him away. Her own servants knowing her well discreetly let her be. They were there should she want them, but for now they remained out of sight. The sultan valideh was saddened by what had happened, and she was equally saddened by what she must do, but she would do it. It was that sort of strength that separated a ruler from those meant to be ruled.

When Esther Kira returned the two women went to Marjallah's apartments. Two huge deaf-mute eunuchs guarded the doors. They were the fiercest of the palace eunuchs having been trained to kill without hesitation. Seeing the valideh they stepped aside, and unbarred the door to Aidan's apartment. Within Marta and her daughters huddled looking quite terrified. Jinji was ashen with anxiety, and almost fainted when he saw the sultan valideh.

"Where is your mistress?" she asked.

Jinji pointed toward Aidan's bedroom, and entering it they saw her sitting upon the bed, a vacant look in her eyes, her cat, Tulip, in her lap. Absently she stroked the beautiful beast, and his very loud purr was the only sound heard within the room.

"Fetch me a goblet," said the valideh, and Jinji scurried to obey her, almost dropping the silver vessel in his nervousness. Nur-U-Banu took it from him, and held it out to Esther Kira who poured what appeared to be a cherry sherbet into the goblet. The sultan's mother then held the beverage beneath Aidan's nose, saying, "Drink it, Marjallah, and your troubles will be over."

Without even the slightest protest Aidan took the silver goblet from Nur-U-Banu, and drained it down. Then she looked up and said, "Will you care for my servants, madame? I would not like to feel they suffered because of my actions. If it is possible I would free Marta and her daughters, and send them home. They were Javid's gift to me, and are therefore mine to dispose of as I wish."

"They shall be freed, and returned to their own land," replied the valideh. "What of Jinji?"

"I would give him to Safiye. She will know how to use him best."

The valideh nodded. "It will be done. Is there anything else?"

Aidan yawned. She was beginning to feel very sleepy. Her eyes were growing heavy, and it was becoming hard to form the words. "Tulip," she managed to say, and then she fell back onto the bed.

"Tulip?" said the valideh. "What did she mean, I wonder."

"Her cat is called Tulip," said Esther Kira. "Let me give the beast some of the potion, and it can be drowned with her."

Nur-U-Banu nodded, and called for a dish of chopped chicken which Jinji a.s.sured the sultan's mother was the cat's favorite food. The drug was mixed with the chicken, and sure enough the cat wolfed the treat down, falling quickly into a stupor upon the floor.

"It is a beautiful animal," remarked the valideh. "What a pity it must be destroyed."

"Its presence would only remind you of this incident," said Esther Kira. "Now there will be no loose ends to tie up."

The official executioners were called into Aidan's apartment, and she was put with her cat into a sack that had been fas.h.i.+oned of pale mauve silk. The sacque was then removed via the Harem Death Gate, and taken down the slope of the palace gardens to a tiny dock where waited the man responsible for the removal of bodies from the Yeni Serai. Receiving the sack he dumped it into the stern of his little boat, and accepted from the executioners the traditional baksheesh. Then as the executioners turned back to the palace the boatman began to row his craft away.

It was sunset, and the rays of the setting sun spread themselves lavishly over the waters of the harbor turning that arm of the sea that pushed up into the city, which was called the Golden Horn, molten with bright color. Rhythmically the boatman responsible for the disposal of bodies from the sultan's palace rowed on away from the city, and toward the deep water off the Prince's Island where he had for years, and had his father, and his grandfather before him, followed their trade of dumping bodies from the palace. Sometimes they were the bodies of women dead in childbirth, or some other natural cause. At other times they were the bodies of those women sentenced to be executed. Some were executed alive if the sultan chose to be particularly cruel, and the boatman on those trips blocked his ears with softened wax so that he did not hear their piteous cries for he was not a cruel man. At other times the women were either mercifully strangled or drugged as the body he now carried had obviously been.

For a brief time the little vessel was blocked from sight of the land as it was pa.s.sed by a large s.h.i.+p outward bound for the Aegean, and possibly the Mediterranean beyond. As the last rays of the red-orange sun dipped below the horizon there floated across the water the high, wailing chant of Istanbul's chief muezzin, and his cohorts, all calling the faithful to prayer, and the small, bobbing boat was no more than a wisp of a shadow upon a darkling sea.

PART 4.

LOVE LOST LOVE FOUND.

Chapter 16.

Sir Robert Small's vessel, the Bon Adventure, rocked gently at its berth on the Golden Horn in Istanbul's teeming harbor. It was late afternoon, but even here on the water the air was yet still and damply hot. In the main cabin of the s.h.i.+p Conn St. Michael sat with Robbie, and England's first amba.s.sador to the Sublime Porte, William Harborne, about a heavy, rectangular oak table with fine carved legs. The rest of the room was as well furnished. The walls of the cabin were paneled, the span of dark linenfold hung here and there with silver sconces that had been hinged to move with the motion of the s.h.i.+p. Because of its location in the stern of the vessel the room had a fine large window as well as smaller windows on each side, but even with these ports open the cabin was stiflingly hot.

A window seat had been built into the stern window, and beneath it were several deep storage cabinets. Across from the main window was a large bed of heavy oak that had been fastened to the floor of the room upon whose wide and polished boards had been laid a fine Turkey rug of dark red with a black-and-gold design. The three elder O'Malley brothers threatened to wear a hole of serious proportions in that rug as they paced restlessly back and forth across the cabin; irritated by their inability to solve the th.o.r.n.y problem of their younger sibling's wife.

"The whole b.l.o.o.d.y thing is impossible," grumbled Brian O'Malley in his frustration.

"Impossible," replied Conn, "is a word that I refuse to accept in this instance, brother mine!"

Brave words, thought Robbie, looking at Conn who had grown noticeably thinner over the last few months, and whose purple-shadowed eyes were evidence enough of his lack of sleep.

"My lord," cut in William Harborne, "impossible is the only word that adequately describes yer wife's situation. There really is no hope, sir, short of the sultan's death, and I can a.s.sure ye that he is a robust gentleman, still in the first flush of his manhood."

"There's only one way then," said Brian O'Malley impatiently, "and G.o.d only knows we've got the firepower for it! We'll just have to bombard the infidel's palace from the sea where it is the most vulnerable. Then we'll be able to rescue our sister-in-law ourselves, and be off before they even realize she's gone! It is as good a plan as any."

" 'Tis the worst thing we could do!" snapped Robbie. "Are ye mad, man?"

"Well there seems to be naught else to do, little man," said Brian O'Malley surlily. "I haven't heard ye English come up with any ideas. All ye can seem to say is that 'tis impossible."

The English amba.s.sador gritted his teeth, and hoped that when he spoke his voice would be a calm and reasonable one. "May I remind ye, Captain O'Malley, that this is not the Spanish Main. Yer swashbuckling tactics won't do here. Remember, sir, that yer sister, Sir Robert, Richard Staper, and my own master, Sir Edward Osborne, have spent years working to open a trading partners.h.i.+p with Turkey. I cannot, will not, allow ye to destroy everything that we have sought to gain for England. I represent her majesty's government, sir, and we must keep our relations with the Sublime Porte friendly relations. Turning yer cannons upon his majesty's home in order to conduct a raid upon his harem is hardly conducive to friendly relations!"

Brian O'Malley grinned a rather evil grin at William Harborne, and said, "But we're not English, man. When the dirty infidel complains, ye've but to tell him, and 'twill be the truth, that 'twas not the civilized English who came calling, but some wild Irishmen."

William Harborne's mouth tightened, and his hand slammed down hard upon the oaken table where he sat causing the pewter tankards upon it to jump suddenly. "Dammit, ye thick-headed bogtrotter! Get this into yer stubbom skull! The Sultan of Turkey is not some stupid fool of a man without a brain. Although I am certain that he would appreciate the subtlety ye've just offered me, and laugh heartily, he would still hold the English government responsible, and rightly so, for any breach of friendly relations." The amba.s.sador turned to Conn. "Lord Bliss, surely you understand?"

"Ye keep telling me that I have no hope of regaining my wife, sir," said Conn quietly, "and right now I cannot accept such a thing, but neither do I propose to follow my brother's well-intentioned method either. There must be another way, and we have simply not thought about it yet."

"If there is, my lord," said the amba.s.sador, "I cannot think of it."

"But, good sirs, I can," came a voice from the cabin doorway, and Esther Kira hobbled slowly into the room, aided by her small blackamoor page, and leaning upon a silver-headed cane. "Thank you, Yussef," she said to the boy, "now run back to the litter, and wait for me. You will find a bag of Turkish paste beneath my cus.h.i.+ons for you, child."

With a bright grin, the lad ran from the room, greedily licking his lips in antic.i.p.ation of the waiting treat.

Conn had leapt to his feet at her entry, and now he helped the old lady to a comfortable seat, asking as he settled her, "What has happened, Esther Kira? Are ye telling me that ye can now help us? Why now?"

The bright-eyed old woman accepted his aid, and settled herself into a chair. Quickly she explained the events of the past hour at the palace; and drawing a quick, deep breath so she might continue on with her tale, she explained that the boatman who disposed of bodies in the sea for the sultan was a Jew, currently in debt to the Kira family. He would aid them in rescuing Aidan, and his silence was guaranteed. When she had finished speaking Esther Kira reached into the voluminous folds of her brocaded gown, and drew forth a folded square of mauve silk which she handed to Conn. "Open it, and fill it with something heavy, my lord. Do you understand me?"

Conn's heart was hammering wildly. "Aye, Esther Kira, I do."

"You must get under way as soon as I leave your s.h.i.+p," she said. "If you have men still in the city then leave one of your vessels behind for them, and plan your rendezvous to meet up with them, but you must leave now! You will have but one chance, my lord, for Avram ben Yakob will not stop. This must be done while you are both in motion on the slightest chance that someone might see if you stopped to make the transfer. Put your own s.h.i.+p between the sh.o.r.e and Avram's so that your actions will not be visible to anyone on the palace side."

"How can I thank you, Esther Kira?" asked Conn taking the old lady's hands into his, and kissing them warmly.

"Do not thank me, Lord Bliss," she replied quietly, "for if fate had not interfered in this matter I know of no way that you could have obtained your wife's release for I certainly would not betray my friends.h.i.+p with the royal Ottoman family. I do so only now because of the events of the last few weeks, things which I must now tell you for not only your sake, but those of the lady Marjallah, who was my friend, and who I found to be a good and honest woman.

"When Javid Khan was murdered by his mad sibling the lady Marjallah went to the sultan for protection. Javid Khan had freed her legally when he had married her, but even knowing this the sultan took her for himself claiming that Marjallah's loss of the papers proving her freedom left her status in doubt. This was but a splitting of hairs for the sultan was there when Prince Javid Khan went before the kadi. He knew Marjallah's words to be the truth, but his l.u.s.t was greater than his honor. There was nothing anyone could do to help Marjallah in her plight which was made worse by the sultan's eagerness to possess her. He gave her no time to mourn her loss for the lady Marjallah cared for the prince. Instead he forced her to his bed almost at once; and it is this that I believe rendered Marjallah slightly mad. Only a madwoman would have dared to stab the sultan with a fruit knife."

"Mad?" The men in the room spoke with one voice, and then Conn said, "Are you telling me, Esther Kira, that my wife has gone mad?"

"Yes, my lord, I am, but I have lived a long time, and I have seen many things. Your wife's ailment I believe is but temporary, brought on by her anger, and helplessness in her situation. Once she awakens from the sleep my potion puts her in, and sees you, I am certain that she will begin a complete recovery. Of course if you would rather not take the chance you can simply sail from Istanbul, and Marjallah will be drowned. She will feel no pain or fear as long as I give her the sleeping draft. You need have no remorse on that account."

"Perhaps it might be better, Conn," said Brian O'Malley. "For G.o.d's sake, man, if she's mad ye can't have children by her. It's over, Conn, and ye'd best face it."

Conn stood up slowly, and walking over to his elder brother calmly floored him with a single, powerful blow. Then leaning down he hauled Brian up to his feet again, and looking him straight in the eye said, "Aidan is my wife, Brian. I don't intend to allow her to be drowned in a sacque like an unwanted cat. For some reason I don't understand, I don't think that you've ever been in love. I don't doubt that if this had happened to your Maggie you'd have given her up for lost, and taken another wife. You would, Brian, but I wouldn't! Aidan is my life because she's the only woman I've ever loved, will ever love. D'ye understand me?"

"Aye," said Brian, loosing his younger brother's clenched fist from his s.h.i.+rtfront. Then he grinned. "Yer still a Celt for all yer English manners, Conn."

Esther Kira arose from her seat. "I can linger no longer, my lord," she said. "I am expected at the palace. May the Lord G.o.d favor your mission, and bring you safely home to your England."

"How do I thank you, Esther Kira?" asked Conn again, and his eyes were damp with his emotion.

"What payment can there be for a life, my lord?" she asked him seriously. "I know of none, and there is no value you would put upon your wife that would be great enough." Then taking the English amba.s.sador's proffered arm she departed the room.

Having seen the elderly woman to her vehicle William Harborne returned briefly to the master's cabin. "If you would tell her majesty, Sir Robert, that all goes well here, and as we have planned. I block the French at every turn. She will be happy, I think, to hear that."

"Aye," said Robbie, "she will. My thanks, Master Harborne, for all the help you have been to us in this matter."

William Harborne shook his head. "I wish I could have helped, but your success is due to Esther Kira." He held out his hand to each of them in turn. "G.o.dspeed to you all, and good fortune!" he said as he left them.

He was no sooner off the s.h.i.+p than the Bon Adventure prepared to set sail. It was decided that Shane O'Malley's vessel would remain behind to gather up the half-dozen crewmen from Robbie's s.h.i.+p who were yet ash.o.r.e. Their counterparts from the O'Malley boat were put aboard the Bon Adventure so that it would not be shorthanded in case of an emergency. The gangway was drawn up, the heavy ropes that held the s.h.i.+p to the pier loosened, the anchor raised. Bon Adventure's sails were slowly unfurled, and the s.h.i.+p began to ease away from its mooring and out into the main channel of the harbor.

The sun was beginning its daily descent into the western skies, and had already begun to stain the narrow arm of the sea the molten gold that had given it its name. A light breeze caught the full sails of the s.h.i.+p, and swept it along the wine-dark surface of the Sea of Mamara. On the port side of the s.h.i.+p was Asia Minor, its hills touched with the brilliant sunset. On the starboard side the city of Istanbul, set upon its seven hills, sprawled untidily down to the sea. The Yeni Serai and its surrounding estate took up a large portion of the sh.o.r.eline. Fascinated Conn looked at it. It was surrounded by a sea wall that was interspersed here and there with kiosks. He could see the lush gardens, the graceful domes, and soaring minarets of the palace and its Great Mosque that had once been the seat of Eastern Christianity. He wondered what it all looked like inside those walls.

The crew had been gathered once they had cleared the Golden Horn, and they had been told the plain and simple truth of their mission. All of them had sailed with Sir Robert Small for years, and they knew and liked both his business partner, Lady de Marisco, and her charming brother, Lord Bliss. To be able to rescue Lady Bliss from impending death was a ch.o.r.e their adventurous and brave English hearts relished. The subst.i.tute sacque was prepared, filled with the s.h.i.+p's garbage that they had not been able to dispose of because of their hasty departure. It was enough to weigh the sacque down so that it would sink.

"Vessel ahead, just off the port side," called the sailor who had been placed in the furthest part of the s.h.i.+p's bow to spot Avram ben Yakob.

"We're moving too fast," fretted Conn.

"Don't worry," Robbie rea.s.sured him, and then he called out, "Drag the sea anchor!" and Conn heard the splash as Bon Adventure's captain was obeyed. "It will slow us down just enough so we may make the transfer easily," said Robbie.

Conn moved swiftly to the port side of the vessel where the boatswain's chair was being rigged. "I'll go over," he said.

"Nay, ye'll not," replied Robbie. "One look at all that water rus.h.i.+ng by, and yer belly would be in revolt. We'd not only lose our chance with her ladys.h.i.+p, we'd lose ye as well. What the h.e.l.l would I tell Skye?"

"Who then?"

"Young Michael, my cabin boy. He's strong, but light enough for the job, and he doesn't get seasick."

Conn grinned wryly, and protested, "I've done very well on this voyage."

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