by Zia Wesley
The Baskadine’s mind was not facile enough to immediately grasp the implications of this news, but she was, nevertheless, intrigued. “She tell you this?” she asked.
“No, one of her young slaves. The slave has accompanied her on many visits, and bragged of it to me.”
Now the Baskadine was beginning to see the possibilities this information might afford. Nakshidil also visited the Kadine, and if the two were there at the same time, she could make the Greek do the job for her. “Sholeg, you say?”
“Sholay, my lady.”
Nuket Seza signaled her servant to bring a small silk purse from which she extracted ten gold coins. She held them in her open, greasy palm for the informant to take. “If her and baby dies, you be paid well.”
The woman took the coins and smiled broadly. “Thank you, my lady. Thank you. You will see I am right.” She bowed several times, and then left.
“Arak!” Nuket Seza yelled. “Must think now,” she muttered to herself.
~ ~ ~
Later that afternoon, after drinking only half a bottle of Arak, Nuket Seza miraculously devised a plan. She summoned Sholay, who entered her apartments a short while later.
For the meeting, Nuket Seza adorned herself in what she believed to be her most imposing and regal garb: a sparkling red silk ensemble topped with white ostrich plumes coming out of her headdress. She powdered her face white, and rouged her lips, cheeks and eyelids bright red, making her look like a gigantic, frightening porcelain doll. As Sholay entered, the Baskadine smiled broadly, displaying a mouthful of uneven, yellow teeth, rotted from the copious amounts of sugar she consumed, and indicated that Sholay make herself comfortable on a divan across from her own. With her typical lack of subtlety, she wagged a fat finger back and forth and said, “You have li’l secret, girl.” Her face contorted into a mock frown. “Bad li’l girl.”
Sholay wondered which of her secrets had been discovered, but maintained a blank expression and said nothing.
Nuket Seza stuffed her mouth with dates as she spoke. “Bad li’l girl gonna die if secret get out, huh?”
Sholay was appalled by the woman’s lack of manners and slovenly appearance. Hoping that a calm demeanor might outwit her accuser, she quietly replied, “I do not understand.”
Nuket Seza threw her head back and laughed loudly, then abruptly turned angry. She pointed at Sholay and yelled, “Filthy lovemaking wit’ Circassian Kadine. Unnerstan’ that?”
The blood drained from Sholay’s face, her worst fear confirmed. What does she want? She froze.
Nuket Seza smiled. “You gonna do li’l favor for me so no one gonna know, an’ you keep alive. Unnerstan’?”
Sholay nodded tentatively, despite the fact that she did not understand at all. Better to agree than to anger the horrible woman.
“That good.” She filled her mouth with sugared almonds. “You see li’l favorite, Nakshidil, with Circassian Kadine?”
Sholay’s brow furrowed. She was not sure what the woman was asking. Did she think that Nakshidil was also the Kadine’s lover? “What do you mean?”
“You there in Kadine’s apartment when Nakshidil there?”
“No, we have not met,” she answered honestly.
“Liar! She there all the time. Li’l whore good frien’ wit’ bitch Kadine.” Chewed almonds spewed from her mouth with each word. “You poison favorite or I tell secret. Unnerstan’?”
“You want me to poison Nakshidil?” she asked incredulously.
“That’s right,” she nodded emphatically. “You poison or I tell secret. You die.” She laughed at her own cleverness. “She die or you die. Unnerstan’?”
Sholay’s instincts told her to agree. Nuket Seza was obviously not a woman with whom she could either argue or disagree. She nodded her head. “Yes, I understand.”
“That’s good. You wait now.”
Nuket Seza summoned her Kutuchu Usta, who had been waiting in the next room. Holding aloft a purse of gold, she motioned the woman to take it. “Bring poison for food,” she said as the herbalist took the purse and left.
A moment later, she returned carrying a small glass vial of dark liquid. Nuket Seza motioned her to hand the vial to Sholay, who grasped it gingerly between the tips of her fingers as if it might bite.
“Get out,” was all the Baskadine said to end the meeting.
Sholay’s hand shook as she secreted the vile in her girdle and left. She walked a few feet, then leaned against the wall of the passageway to steady herself and wait for her legs to stop shaking.
Is she mad? How can she expect me to kill an innocent woman and child? What would lead her to believe that I might do such a thing? But, if I don’t, am I willing to die in their place?
She walked down the long, narrow corridor, keeping an eye over her shoulder as she went, making sure no one was following, and went directly to the Circassian Kadine’s apartment.
Initially pleased by her lover’s unexpected visit, the Kadine’s smile quickly faded when she noticed the girl’s strained expression and heard the tone of her voice.
“We must speak privately,” Sholay whispered.
As soon as the Kadine’s servants were gone, Sholay handed her the vial.
The Kadine took it, and looked into the girl’s eyes. “Where did you get this?”
“Nuket Seza. She has threatened to expose us if I do not...” She could not even finish the sentence.
“For Selim or Nakshidil?’
“Nakshidil.”
“She is more clever than I thought,” the Kadine said, as she began to pace back and forth. Thinking aloud, she said, “I cannot go to the Baskatibe with this proof without exposing you. Yet, if you do nothing, Nuket will report you.” Either way, my lover is doomed. “I must think. Meanwhile, let her believe that you are waiting for the right moment to do her bidding.” She hugged Sholay and kissed her cheeks. “Do not fear, my love. I will find a way to protect you. No harm will to come to you. I will not allow it.”
When Sholay had gone, the Kadine went out to her private garden. She walked along the gravel paths, touching one exotic blossom after another, sometimes bending to inhale their intoxicating fragrances. She felt as if someone had taken a needle and pricked a delicate bubble within her heart, allowing all of the joy to escape at once.
Is this how it feels to lose a loved one?
It was a pain she had never known. At the very end of the garden, where she was sure to not be seen, she sat on a marble bench and wept until evening turned the garden cold and dark. Then she returned to her apartment and smoked her opium pipe until she fell into a drugged, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, she instructed her servants to not admit visitors. She needed to find a way to save both Nakshidil and her beloved Sholay, to protect herself, and to end Nuket Seza’s threats permanently. She was sorry that it was not her nature to harm others, or she would have ended the problem sooner, after Selim’s poisoning. Her orthodox upbringing was clear on the consequences of committing murder, and she did not wish to spend eternity with the damned. There had to be another way—and she was determined to find it.
Chapter 5
13 May 1783
My dearest cousin Rose,
I pray that this letter reaches you from the hands of Mssr. Pierre Ruffin, chargé d’affaires in Istanbul, and that you and your family are in good health and high spirits.
So much has transpired since last I wrote, I feared it might take hundreds of pages to tell in its entirety. It is a miracle I am able to send this to you at all.
As you must already know, when I sailed from Nantes almost two years ago, my ship was set upon by Algerian corsairs (as had been foretold). I was frightened beyond words whilst in their charge, although they neither molested nor harmed me. We sailed to Algiers, where I was delivered into the hands of an extraordinary gentleman named Baba Mohammed Ben Osman, the Dey (Mayor) of Algiers. Miraculously, he spoke French, and what might have been my untimely end became, instead, my new beginning.
; I remained five months as an honored guest in that gentleman’s palatial home, and through his kind guidance and tutelage, became familiar and quite comfortable with Turkish customs and language. After furnishing me with a wardrobe and dowry befitting a princess, we sailed to Istanbul, Turkey, where I entered the seraglio of Sultan Abdul Hamid.
Do not despair, dear Rose, for all aspects of Euphemia David’s prophecy have thus far come true, and I write to you not from a prison, but from my own lavish apartments within the most beautiful palace you could imagine. I am, at present, the Sultan’s favorite, and carrying his child—a son, I have no doubt. Although the Sultan bears no resemblance to the husband I imagined in my youth, he is a kindly gentleman, who treats me as a “queen.” I want for nothing. Can you believe, dearest cousin, the foreseen events that have come to pass?
Which leads me to inquire of you, dear Rose. How are your children and has your unhappy situation with your husband been resolved? As so much of my prophecy has come to pass, I wonder about yours. Please, reply so that I know this has reached you, and be so kind as to convey my news to our aunts, Lavinia and Sophie. I am well and happy. I know it will be hard for you to imagine how I might say such a thing (because we had such foolish notions of what it might be like here), but I assure you that those we believed to be barbarians are, in fact, quite civilized in most things, and that I am not held against my will.
I close with the fervent hope you hold these pages in your hands soon, and that we begin a correspondence from our different worlds. I have been assured that since Mssr. Ruffin’s post has been established, mail will ship on a timely basis between here and France.
I remain, as ever your devoted cousin,
Aimée Dubucq de Rivery
Post script: my Turkish name is Nakshidil, which means “embroidered on the heart.”
It had taken the Circassian Kadine three days to design a plan that would serve her needs: to save Sholay’s life, to protect herself as well as Nakshidil and her unborn child, and to render Nuket Seza harmless without having to kill her. As soon as all the pieces had come into place, she summoned the Kizlar Agasi.
Her appearance surprised him. No jewels adorned her simple, dark blue robes, and her face looked drawn and tired.
“Mihrisah, I was beginning to fear that something terrible had happened. Why have you secreted yourself alone here for these past days?”
“I apologize for causing you undue concern, but there has been much to contend with and I needed to think. Now I will tell you a story that, I pray, may have a somewhat happy ending. Rest, my friend,” she said, indicating a large divan close to her own.
She ordered coffee served, and then dismissed her servants.
“Nuket Seza has finally given us the opportunity we have prayed for, but it comes at a terrible price to me.” She paused to sip her coffee and regain her composure, still devastated by the thought of losing Sholay. “Had she not underestimated my resolve, it might have gone in her favor, but I believe I have found a way to turn the tides.”
She began by revealing Nuket Seza’s attempted blackmail. Of course, he had been aware of the Kadine’s affair with Sholay from the beginning—it was, after all, his duty to know who was sleeping with whom. But he had guarded her secret, rather than use it against her.
“Who is the informant?” he asked.
“We do not know... not yet.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon refining the intricacies of their plan, and by dusk the two old friends had become co-conspirators.
~ ~ ~
The following evening, according to plan, the Kadine summoned the secretary, the Baskatibe, to her quarters, where Sholay knelt at her feet with her head bowed.
“Tell her what you just told me,” the Kadine coldly instructed Sholay.
“Forgive me, my lady. I feared for my life,” Sholay whispered.
“Tell her, you deceitful wretch,” she commanded.
“I was trying to poison Nakshidil.”
The Baskatibe gasped. “Why would you do such a thing? Did someone put you up to this?”
“I fear to say, my lady.”
“You had better say if you wish to be spared. The person who bade you do this, will pay with her life. You may live yours out in prison if you give me her name,” the Baskatibe said.
“Prison? I shall die in prison.”
“You shall die either way,” the Baskatibe said. “One way sooner than the other.”
“Nuket Seza bade me do it.”
“And paid her well,” the Kadine added, holding out a small wooden box filled with jewels. “It was just by luck I discovered her sneaking into my hamam disguised as one of my bath servants.”
“Nuket... of course, the treacherous witch. We will all be well rid of her. Remain here while I fetch the guards to deal with you,” she told Sholay, leaving the room.
As soon as she had left, the Kadine knelt before Sholay and took her face in her hands. “Drink quickly, my love,” she instructed, and kissed the girl deeply on the lips.
With tears in her eyes, Sholay extracted a small glass vial from her girdle, uncorked it and tipped it to her lips, draining the vial completely. Within seconds, she collapsed onto the floor and the Kadine rose to her feet and screamed, “Help! Call the Kizlar Agasi!”
The Kadine stood helplessly over the young girl’s body until the Kizlar Agasi and a retinue of his guards arrived. Feeling for the girl’s pulse at her neck and finding none, he declared, “She is dead. Take her away.”
“Report this to the Baskatibe,” the Kadine said coldly. “I want nothing more of this treachery tonight. Leave me now.”
“Very good, my lady,” the Kizlar Agasi responded with a bow, and then followed his guards from her rooms.
“Bring my pipe,” she told her servant, “then leave me until morning.”
The Kadine willed herself not to cry, and tried to remain focused on a good outcome, as she reclined and smoked deeply. Almost immediately she entered her comforting dream world where all thoughts and feelings were enveloped in a lovely, soft fog, and the only sound she heard was her own breath. Soon, even her vaguest thoughts disappeared into the mist, and she rested.
~ ~ ~
Her plan depended upon a dangerous herb, well known in the lore of Turkish folk medicine. When ingested, it produced symptoms that mimicked death. If administered properly, the deathlike state lasted only a short time; if not, actual death could result. The Kadine’s Kutuchu Usta had used the potion only once, with good results.
Immediately following the certification of Sholay’s “death,” a handpicked detachment of the Kizlar Agasi’s most trusted guards removed her body from the seraglio. Under the cover of darkness, they delivered her to the Mufti Velly Zade’s palace on a hill overlooking the city, twenty kilometers from the seraglio. The Mufti was one of the Sultan’s oldest and most loyal supporters. Sholay would be safe there, and if the rest of the scenario went as planned, one day she might be able to return to the harem.
The Circassian Kadine would explain that the girl had taken her own life by drinking the poison intended for Nakshidil. The empty vial of poison and the box of jewels would serve as evidence, and no one would have reason to question the word of the Kadine, certainly not over that of Nuket Seza. It was a perfect plan.
While the Kadine rested in her induced stupor, an official tribunal marched ceremoniously into Nuket Seza’s apartments. One eunuch forced her to her knees while another read the charges: She was accused of attempting to poison the Sultan’s favorite and causing the death of the woman she bribed to carry out the deed. The Baskadine would be banished to the Palace of Tears on the following day and her son Mustapha, would be incarcerated in the Cage. Out of courtesy for her position, they allowed her to spend the remainder of the night overseeing the packing of her personal belongings. Dumbstruck by the news and too confused to understand the unexpected turn of events, Nuket Seza swayed on her knees, and slowly shook her head from side to side.
; As soon as the officials left her apartment, she struggled to her feet and called for a bottle of Arak. Her addled brain found it difficult to fully comprehend the facts, but two things were clear. Her son was going to the Cage, and she was going to the Palace of Tears, where she would be powerless to ensure his assent to the throne. No arm was long enough to reach out from the Palace of Tears. Her only chance to achieve the power she craved would be gone forever. She would be abandoned and forgotten. Abandoned and forgotten, she thought. Just like before. What could she do?
Panic seized her and an idea came into her head. She grasped at it like a drowning person reaching for a floating log. She must find someone to kill Selim—kill him while she still could. Kill the heir and put Mustapha on the throne. But how? She had been trying to kill him for years. Her mind would not cooperate. She drank glass after glass of Arak, becoming drunker and drunker in her attempt to think more clearly.
“Need help,” she mumbled. “Fetch Safay and Soraya here now,” she slurred to one of her servants.
The frightened servant dared not disobey. She went into the harem and tried in vain to entice the women she had summoned to meet with her mistress. But the news of Nuket’s banishment had already reached the would-be conspirators who wanted to distance themselves as quickly as possible, lest they be made to accompany her in exile. Both women firmly declined. Too frightened to report this to her mistress, the servant did not return to the Baskadine’s quarters.
When no one appeared, Nuket decided to handle the matter herself, and stumbled drunkenly into the elegant hamam.
Standing unsteadily in the doorway, her corpulent body swaying from side to side, she screamed, “Who gonna help me kill the scum Selim?”
All activity abruptly stopped. The stunned women made no reply.
“I pay good,” she slurred, as she tore at the strands of jewels around her neck, precious stones spilling onto the floor at her feet.
No one moved or spoke.
“He must die!” she screamed, as several eunuchs physically removed her from the baths. “Must DIE!”
~ ~ ~
