“Now I want you to go home and be happy and content yourself,” she continued. “Become a prosperous silk merchant following in our father’s footsteps. Respect and care kindly for your wife and children. Gain proper prestige with an envied mistress. Serve the state as often as they will have you. Be charitable, remembering your many blessings. And when you happen to think of me, Marco, know that I am happy and content as the wife of my dearest infidel. I would have it no other way, nor should you. If you still perceive that you have sinned against me, Brother, I freely offer you my full forgiveness.”
His eyes were filled with tears, which he quickly wiped away with the back of his hand. “Bianca . . .” he said, and then to her great surprise he broke down sobbing.
She moved quickly around the table to enfold him in her embrace as he wept.
“Dearest brother,” she said, “you must not grieve for me any longer. Please, oh please, tell me that you understand, Marco. It pains me to think you will go and not comprehend. What can I do to make you see?”
He had shocked himself with the emotions that had overcome him so suddenly. He had not cried since he was a small boy. Men did not weep like maidens or old women. And then, as the sound of her gentle voice calmed him, he came to realize that she had truly forgiven him, if indeed she had once held him responsible for her unhappiness. Her warm embrace soothed him. He gathered himself once again, easing himself from her arms. “I understand, Bianca,” he told her. “How can I not when I see you filled with such happiness and peace?”
She smiled at him, her delicate fingers brushing away the evidence of his sorrow. “I am glad then, and I can send you home without the burden of your unnecessary guilt, Marco. Give my love to Francesca, and tell her of my happiness. I will pray that she finds hers. And the others too.”
“You still pray to our God?” He had thought she would be forbidden to do so and be forced to pray to the deity of the infidels.
“Of course I pray to God,” she said, almost laughing. “Amir promised I should not be forced to give up my faith. I have no priest, it is true, but I know God hears my prayers even without one.”
He nodded, then said, “I did not ask you before, Bianca, but do you have any children? I would tell our father, who will gladly receive news of you, even if others will not.” They both knew he referred to their mother.
“No, but I hope to one day. Maysun and Shahdi are sterile, for it is not wise for Ottoman princes to have too many children, especially sons. Sons pose a danger to the sultan, to his heir, and to their family.”
“So that is why Prince Amir lived in Florence,” Marco said, fascinated.
“He told me when you are the sultan’s grandson, it is better to be a merchant than a warrior. His father even now quarrels with his brother, Sultan Bayezit.”
“Does that not put you in danger?” Marco asked, concerned.
“No,” Azura told him. “Amir has always been loyal to the sultan, whoever he may be. He does not involve himself in politics. His uncle knows he will not rebel, even for his father’s sake. We are told that the prince, Jem, now resides on the island of Rhodes under the protection of the Knights Hospitaliers.”
“I know little of politics except when it should affect the silk trade,” Marco told her. “I came to Bursa because it is there that the Silk Road ends, and I wished to speak with some of that city’s merchants. I have found a new source of particularly fine silk and silk brocade that will please our father greatly. The robe you wear is exquisite. With material like that, the Pietro d’Angelos could corner the trade in silk.”
She laughed. “You are Father’s true son, Marco. I know he is proud of you.”
“He does not say it if he is,” Marco grumbled, helping himself now to one of the small honeyed nut confections that was still left upon the plate.
They spent another hour or so in comfortable brotherly-sisterly companionship. The concerns between them were now settled. Azura knew she must be the one to end the afternoon. Finally she forced herself to rise, and he rose too.
“You must go, Marco,” she told him. “I am glad you came. It is unlikely we will see each other again in this life, Brother.”
“I know,” he admitted, “but I am relieved to see how happy you are, Bianca, and I am grateful for your forgiveness.”
The two siblings embraced, and then Azura escorted him from the salon, surprised to see Amir awaiting them outside.
“My lord?” she said.
“I will escort your brother back to the beach, beloved,” he told her.
She gave a little nod of her head. “You are most gracious, my lord.” Then she turned to her brother a final time. “Farewell, Marco. Remember my words, and go with God in your travels.” Then kissing him on both cheeks, she turned and hurried off down a corridor and out of his sight.
“Come!” Amir said to his guest.
“I am grateful that you allowed me to see Bianca,” Marco said as they exited the little palace and began the climb down the steep path to the shoreline. “She has put my mind at ease, and forgiven me for past wrongs.”
“I am glad, but you cannot come again,” Amir told him. “It was not easy for Azura to leave all that was familiar to her, but she did it for my sake. I can but hope a woman will one day love you that much, Marco Pietro d’Angelo.”
“It was difficult for me as well,” Marco told his companion, refusing to be bullied even a little by this prince. “She is my sister, the closest to me in age of all our siblings. I should not upset her willingly. If it be your will, my lord, that we not see each other again, then I accept it. My sister has already told me most firmly the same thing,” he concluded with a small smile.
Amir barked a sharp laugh. “Did she? Did she indeed? Ah, what a wonderful female creature she is.” His handsome face relaxed now as the threat of Azura’s family began to fade away.
They reached the beach, where a little boat was waiting to take the young silk merchant back to the anchored vessel.
“The captain has been given orders to set sail immediately,” the prince told his guest. “His destination is Istanbul. You will find a ship there to take you home.” He held out his hand to Marco. “I greeted you in peace, brother of my wife. I now bid you farewell. Go in peace and with my friendship.”
Marco took the prince’s hand and shook it. “Thank you, my lord,” he told him. “I can see that you have treated my sister well. I cannot deny her love for you. I offer you my friendship, signore.” Then he waded out to the small craft, and climbed into it. He turned with a smile and gave Amir a friendly wave. Then Marco Pietro d’Angelo faced the sea again.
The prince watched as the little boat was swiftly rowed out to the large ship. By the time the prince had climbed back up to the palace gardens his vessel was already under way, sailing from the small cove that served the Moonlight Serai and headed for the Bosphorus. He reentered his home and went directly to the harem. There he found Azura as he had expected he would, standing by a window watching too.
Hearing his entry, she turned, smiling. “He did not come for my family’s sake. He came for his own. I have relieved his poor burdened conscience,” and she went on to explain her conversation that afternoon with her brother.
“Are you saddened to see him go knowing you are unlikely to meet again?” he asked her.
“No. My life is here with you,” Azura told him, smiling to herself as she spoke. Men! Why was it that they always seemed to need reassurance from those they loved or cared for? she wondered. Then she looked into his deep blue eyes and said, “I want a child, Amir. A child of our love for each other. Maysun and Shahdi would like me to have a child too, for the harem is lonely without the laughter of children.”
“You know the dangers, beloved,” he reminded her. “My uncle could at any time turn on me because of my father. Remember that he has three living
sons of his own. If our child were a male, it could present a danger to us all, but to you in particular. Besides, there has been no sign of a child in all the time we have been together.”
“Because Nadim mixes a potion each morning that Agata presents to me as a strengthening drink. I am not supposed to know it is to prevent conception. There is no harm in it, so I drink it down quite dutifully,” Azura told him with a small laugh.
“I should have them both beaten!” Amir exclaimed, feigning anger.
She laughed again. “They protect us by their actions,” she told him.
“A child,” he said slowly. “I had not thought to have a child, especially when you did not seem to prove fertile. A daughter who favored her mother would be a joy. Still, it is a serious chance that you contemplate, beloved.”
Amir knew his uncle well. Bayezit was a patient man, but he was also unafraid to act in his best interests, as his race to reach Istanbul when Sultan Mehmet died had proved. He had been at a farther distance than his brother, and yet he had gotten to the capital first, where he had promised the Janissaries what they wanted and paid the right bribes so that his brother had no chance at all of gaining the throne. Bayezit would not hesitate to have an infant slain if he felt the child was a future danger to his throne. And how would Azura feel having her newborn torn from her arms and smothered? Could he subject her to that?
Still, if they dared it, a child would bring their house such joy. And it could as easily be a daughter as a son. A daughter who one day could be used to the sultan’s best advantage in an important marriage alliance. An Ottoman princess would please his uncle. Of all Amir’s cousins, he suspected that the youngest of the sultan’s sons, Selim, would be the one to father a large family. Ahmed, despite Bayezit’s favor, preferred gambling, drinking forbidden wines, and pretty page boys. Korkut was a serious scholar interested only in his studies. But Selim was much like Bayezit himself. Selim would take the throne one day, outsmarting his brothers as his father had, and it would be Selim’s family that would prevail.
“I do not know if I can put us in such jeopardy, beloved,” Amir considered. “The sultan has been favorable towards me, but there are those who have his ear, who would just as soon see my father and me dead. My uncle’s three kadins are ambitious women, especially Ahmed’s mother, Besma. It is rumored she managed the death of Bayezit’s eldest son, the offspring of another kadin, to further her own son’s chances at the succession. How would you feel if after you gave birth your son was taken immediately from you to be killed?”
Azura gasped, horrified. “They would not do that!”
He said nothing, and his silence gave confirmation to his words.
“Would they?” she whispered.
“I cannot bear to see you unhappy, beloved,” Amir told her. “If you want a child, I will give you one, but understand the risks involved if I do and you bear me a son.”
“If we had a son, why would the sultan have to know?” Azura asked. “We do not live in Istanbul. How would he even learn that we had a family?”
Amir laughed. “If I did not inform him of a child’s arrival, it would appear treasonous on my part. You are thinking like a Florentine.”
“I am a Florentine,” she said.
“No,” he told her. “You are my beloved, my wife, and everything that came before us is irrelevant. I will not share you with your history except where I am involved. I am a jealous man where my wife is concerned.”
She kissed his mouth sweetly. “You must learn to share me, for I want a child, Amir. I will take the chance that your uncle will be merciful to us if I have a son, but I will have a daughter so we need not fret about it.”
“You have shown no signs of a child yet,” he said. “How can you be certain that you will have one now that you have decided you want one?”
“I have told you that I only need to stop drinking the strengthening drink that Nadim mixes and Agata feeds me each morning. They think I do not know,” Azura explained to him. “My mother drank a similar liquid when she did not wish to have more babies. It is possible to control these things.”
She had mentioned this to him before, he now recalled, but he had been so concerned with other matters it had slipped entirely from his mind. Once again he didn’t know if he should be angry or not. He realized that his slaves were indeed attempting to safeguard him and his wives as well as their household. “Stop drinking the potion,” he said to her. “I will speak with Nadim and with Ali Farid. We will take our chances and have a child, beloved.” As he said it he wondered if he was being wise. Women were known to die in childbirth. He didn’t want to lose her, but he also wanted to make her happy. He caught her hand and kissed it before placing it over his heart for a moment. Then he released it with a smile.
“Now I will be content,” Azura promised him. “And Maysun and Shahdi will be as well, for this child will belong to all of us, my love.”
“Come to me tonight,” he said, and she smiled into his eyes.
“As my lord commands,” she purred, giving him a quick kiss.
He grinned mischievously at her and chuckled. “How amenable you are, beloved, when you gain your own way with me.”
“All women are easy to live with when they are happy,” she replied.
Agata no longer brought her the strengthening drink in the mornings, and they all began to watch her carefully. Still, despite the passion shared between Amir and Azura, there was no quick sign of a child. Azura found herself disappointed, but Nadim and Agata comforted her, assuring the third wife that the conception of a child was God’s will and not man’s. It had only been a little over a month since the decision had been made.
Then late one morning Captain Mahmud and a small troop of Janissaries arrived at the Moonlight Serai. They had orders requesting that Prince Amir return to Istanbul, for his uncle, the sultan, wished to speak with him.
Azura was suspicious. “What does he want? Why could he not simply send a message to you? Why must he see you?”
Maysun and Shahdi, being better-versed in the politics of the Ottoman Empire, were even more concerned, although they kept their fears to themselves. They did not wish to distress Azura when she was attempting to breed. But what if Amir was being summoned only to be met by the sultan’s gardeners, his executioners? What if Prince Jem’s behavior had finally brought his brother’s patience to the breaking point, and his only son was to suffer the punishment of death for it?
“He is the sultan, and he has requested my presence,” Amir said. “I must go.”
“A request is written on a parchment and delivered by a single messenger. This is a demand with a troop of Janissaries sent to fetch you,” Azura replied.
“Nonetheless, I must go,” Amir said quietly, and kissing each of his wives in turn, he left them, going with Captain Mahmud and his troop of Janissary horsemen. The truth was, he had no idea why his uncle would send for him unless it had something to do with his rebellious father. To his relief he was taken to Sultan Bayezit immediately upon his arrival. Entering the august presence, he bowed low with each step he took forward.
Bayezit watched his nephew come towards him making the proper obeisance as he came. He smiled faintly to himself. Amir was a careful man, he thought. “Come, Nephew, and sit by my side so we may talk,” he invited the prince.
Amir did as he was bid, kissing his uncle’s hand respectfully, his eyes darting quickly around the room for any sign of gardeners. There were none. “Thank you, my lord,” he said. “I am happy to see you looking so well.”
“Unlike your troublesome father, Nephew, you are loyal. Because of your faithfulness I am sending you to Rhodes with the payment for your father’s keep. I want you to speak with Jem personally. Try to convince him to cease his resistance to me, and make his peace. I would happily welcome him back to govern one of my provinces, whichever one he choos
es. I will give you a province and its income too if you succeed.”
“I will gladly go to Rhodes for love of you, Uncle, but I wish no part in the government, and my ships bring me enough income that I neither need nor want any government allowance. Give these honors to your sons. I am content.”
The sultan stared at his nephew, then finally said, “You are unique among the males of our line, Amir, for you are, or you seem, content simply to be.”
“I have seen what ambition does, my lord,” Amir answered his uncle. “I have my own wealth, three wives, a home I love. I want for nothing. Perhaps I am simply lazy, for being sultan is a great deal of work.”
“You have no children, then?” the sultan asked.
“None,” the prince answered. “I should have told you if I did, my lord.”
Bayezit nodded slowly. “Your fidelity is impressive, Amir ibn Jem,” his uncle told him. “My father always said that you were trustworthy. Go to Rhodes for me. I will not hold you responsible if you cannot bring your father to reason, but you must try for my sake and for my brother’s sake.”
“I will do my best for you, my lord uncle,” Amir told him. “When do you propose I leave? And I assume I will have Janissaries with me to guard the gold?”
“You will leave in a month’s time, and ride overland down to the Mediterranean coast. From there you will embark for Rhodes. The gold will await you at your destination and be loaded aboard the vessel taking you to Rhodes. Captain Mahmud will meet you first at Bursa and go with you. There is no need for a troop of his Janissaries, for they would only attract attention. I would have you be discreet, Nephew,” the sultan told Amir. “You can get yourself to Bursa?”
Bianca: The Silk Merchant's Daughters Page 31
