Love Wild and Fair

by Bertrice Small

  Alone, Lateefa said softly, "You see how he is, Esther? He is wild for her. He will spend the rest of this afternoon, the evening, and the entire night in her company. Only a summons from the sultan will move him from her side."

  "She does not love him, my princess. She endures the situation so that she may survive and escape. She is made of the same steel as Cyra Hafise. I see determination in her eyes, and the same firm set of the mouth as my dear lady had."

  Lateefa sighed. "She is so very beautiful. It is no wonder Cica loves her."

  "Beauty, pash!" snorted the old woman. "Beauty is a flower that fades quickly, my child. If the vizier loves her only for her beauty then he is a fool. Like her great-grandmother, Incili is a many-faceted woman. Besides, you are the image of Firousi Kadin, my dear, and she was considered as lovely as Cyra Hafise. Now, child, I really must go. Help me to my litter."

  And leaning on Lateefa Sultan, Esther Kira made her way out of the courtyard.

  Chapter 54

  WITHIN the privacy of her bedchamber or his, the grand vizier insisted that his second wife be completely naked. Her tawny gold hair was pulled back and braided in one large braid, the hair mixed with jeweled ribbons. She was permitted to wear her thin gold and silver bracelets and anklets. She was expected to serve him unquestioningly in all his desires. She did so, quietly aware that this was the key to her survival. Outwardly sweet and calm, Cat raged inwardly at every humiliation. This sudden thrusting of her person into an age where women counted less than horses was a terrible shock.

  When Cicalazade Pasha desired Incili, all the other slaves were instantly dismissed from his presence. He particularly enjoyed having her serve him in his bath. There she was expected to join him in the warm water, gently bathing his entire body with sweet soaps. Afterwards they rubbed one another's bodies with scented oils. These sessions generally ended as one might expect.

  Cat, far from flattered, could not help but feel denigrated by the vizier's unquenchable desire. The fact of his keeping her nude was offensive, as well as a blatant invitation to his lust. He was insatiable, often taking her three and four times in a single night. Only her indomitable spirit and her passionate desire to escape kept Cat unbroken.

  Most important to Cat was her friendship with Lateefa Sultan. The knowledge that they were cousins descended from Selim I and that their great-grandmothers had been the best of friends invited their own friendship. Lateefa told Cat stories she had heard from her grandmother, Guzel, stories of Guzel's childhood. Then the wives and children of Prince Selim lived above the shores of the Black Sea in a palace known as the Moonlight Serai. There was a feeling of love to these stories. Respect for Cyra Hafise was also evident in them.

  "I wish I had known her," said Lateefa. "Grandmother Guzel and her sister, my Aunt Hale, always spoke of her with such love. She treated them as she treated her own daughter, Nilufer Sultan."

  "I knew her," said Cat. "She died when I was a child of four, but I remember a beautiful and imperious old lady whose many grandchildren, grandnieces and grandnephews always deferred to her. In the great hall of Glenkirk Castle there is a large portrait of her, painted just before she came to Turkey. It was always difficult for me to reconcile the painting of that beautiful, proud young girl with the imperious, elegant old woman."

  Lateefa's eyes sparkled mischievously, and she leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "Our religion forbids the painting of the human form but Firousi Kadin was an artist of some talent. She painted many little portraits of the family, and when she died she passed them on to her daughter, my grandmother Guzel, who passed them on to me. Come-I will show you!" She clapped her hands and said to the slave who answered her summons, "Fetch the red lacquer chest at the bottom of the large brassbound cedar chest."

  When the small chest was carefully placed in her lap, Lateefa opened it reverently. The box was divided into several trays. Lateefa gently lifted a piece of velvet from the top tray, revealing six oval miniatures. There were two men and four women. Cat recognized her own great-grandmother and her best friend, Firousi Kadin, whose great-granddaughter Lateefa was her image.

  The princess smiled. "Beautiful, weren't they? The Chinese is Zuleika Kadin, Selim Fs third wife. The tempestous-looking girl with the amber-gold eyes is Sarina Kadin, his fourth wife. The younger of the men is Sultan Suleiman, Cyra's eldest son. The older man is Sultan Selim I."

  Cat stared at these people and at their offspring, whose miniatures were hidden in the subsequent trays. She was particularly enchanted with the chubby-cheeked toddler whom she learned was Prince Karim-her grandfather, Charles Leslie, the first Earl of Sithean! Born and raised a Scot, Cat had never even considered this small part of her heritage, yet there was no denying. that her maternal grandfather had been born an Ottoman prince even if he had lived most of his life as a Scot. She had just as much right to the title "Sultan" after her name as Lateefa had, though no one would ever know that fact.

  "It is so strange," said Cat, "for me to realize that some of these people are also my ancestors."

  "Knowing it, dearest Incili, can you not be happy with us?"

  Cat sighed patiently. Her cousin was such a child. "Lateefa," she said quietly, "I am no child as Cyra was when she came to this land. Behind me are my second husband, for whom I defied my own king, and my nine children. I cannot simply dismiss these people from my heart. I do not love Cica. I love my true husband, Lord Bothwell.

  "You, who do love the vizier, and have been his wife for so many years, should want only the best for him. Help me to escape, my cousin! Help me to return to my own lord! How would you feel if you were stolen from Cica, and forced to be wife to another? Do you know that the vizier always keeps me naked in his presence? That I am allowed to wear only ribbons and baubles?"

  Lateefa flushed a delicate rose. Her voice was a whisper. "I did not know, Incili. He has ever been the sensualist. 'Tis why I never minded when he gathered a large harem. The others sated his appetite, so that after our children were born I was relatively free of his demands. I do not enjoy such things. Do you?"

  "Only with my true lord, and then very much. Each time I must pretend to submit to our lord Cica it pains me. I feel less a real woman, more a doll, a thing."

  Lateefa nodded, and then confided to Cat, "Once several years ago, Cica and my cousin, Sultan Mohammed, had a contest to see how many virgins they could take within the period of one day. Mohammed won, deflowering twenty-four helpless girls. Cica, however, was but one behind him, so they decided the real winner would be he who had impregnated the most girls. The sultan won with sixteen ripe maidens. Only nine of Cica's girls bore children.

  "Lateefa, please!" Cat protested. "Let us visit Esther Kira tomorrow. I must plan my escape or I shall go mad. And see if our friend Hammid can find some tempting young charmers to divert Cica from my bed- even if only occasionally!"

  The princess nodded sympathetically, and on the following day the vizier's two wives honored the Kira house with a visit. There Cat was able to write a brief note to Francis, assuring him of her safety, her love for him, and her desire to be speedily reunited with him. She saw the note dispatched, and then, turning to Esther, she asked, "Have you come up with a plan for my escape yet, Esther Kira?"

  "Possibly, but your husband will have to come to Istanbul to aid us in our plan." She looked to Lateefa. "Go into the garden, my child. When Cicalazade Pasha asks you if you know how Incili escaped, I should prefer you to answer honestly that you do not know."

  The princess nodded her agreement and gratitude, and left them alone. "I would," the old woman continued, "have your husband come to us traveling the same route you will return by. If it is familiar to him it will be easier later. Your pursuers will not expect you to travel overland. So you will do just that, at least partway.

  "You will leave by small boat, and go down the Sea of Marmara through the Dardanelles into the Aegean Sea. Once there you will cross to the island of Lemnos, and from there to Thessaly. You w
ill enter the Peneus River at its mouth, and travel upstream to its source in the mountains. When you can go no farther on the Peneus you will continue on foot across the hills to the Aous River, where a second boat will await you. You will then sail it all the way downstream into the Adriatic Sea, and cross over to Italy. Both these rivers run through sparsely populated areas, and except for two small towns on the Peneus you should encounter no one. There is always danger of recapture, however, for you travel exclusively within the boundaries of the Ottoman Empire until you land in Italy. If you are caught it will mean death."

  "Better death with Bothwell than life with Cicalazade Pasha," said Cat fiercely. "When, Esther Kira? When?"

  The old woman shook her head. "I never expected to meet another like Cyra Hafise. What do they feed you in that wild land of your birth, Incili, that makes its women so determined?"

  Cat smiled slowly, the smile lighting her face with savage joy. "They feed us freedom, Esther Kira. Large doses of pure freedom, self-reliance, and independence! Now… when? When will I be able to shake the dust of this land from my slippers?"

  "Patience, child! First we must smuggle your husband and his man into Constantinople. Then we must keep them hidden here, and wait for the right moment. When it arrives you must come at once, bringing nothing but your servant. What you need we will supply."

  "You will tell me when he is safely here, Esther?"

  "No, my child, I will not. If you knew you could not play the part of the vizier's loving second wife. I will contact you when it is time to make good your escape."

  Cat felt the tears prick at her eyelids, and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. "You are right," she admitted. "I would not endanger him." Then a thought struck her. "Esther, where did my great-grandmother live when her son became sultan?"

  "In the Eski Serai, the old palace. But it is in disrepair, and damaged by fire. No one has lived there since the time of Selim II. Why do you ask?"

  "Are the rooms in which my great-grandmother lived still there?"

  "Yes, child. The rooms were sealed by order of her son at the time of her 'official' death. Twenty-four years ago there was a terrible fire in the Eski Serai, but her apartments were in the Forest Court, separated from the rest of the harem, and the fire never reached there."

  "I would go there, Esther Kira! In the rush of her secret departure, Cyra Hafise left something behind that was very precious to her. I know where it is, and I want it!"

  The old lady's eyes sparkled. "I will take you there myself, child. I have not seen the Eski Serai since the great fire, and I have not been in Cyra Hafise's apartments in over fifty years. Once more before I die I would revisit my youth. Go into the garden and fetch Lateefa Sultan. We will never get away from the overvigilant Osman without her. Do you mind if she comes with us?"

  "Not as long as she will agree that, should I find what I seek, it is mine."

  "She will agree."

  When Lateefa Sultan heard of what Cat and old Esther Kira planned she clapped her hands enthusiastically. "I have never been in the Eski Serai," she told them. "My grandmother lived outside it after her marriage, and my father was born in Guzel's house, not the palace."

  "Who was your mother?" asked Cat.

  "My mother was Aisha Sultan, the daughter of Cyra Hafise's only daughter, Nilufer, sister to your grandfather."

  "Then we are doubly related," said Cat, surprised. "Why did you not tell me? What I seek could rightfully belong to you as a great-grandchild of Cyra Hafise."

  "No, my cousin. Whatever you seek, you have the stronger claim, since you descend through the male line while I descend from the female. The right is yours, and besides-" the lovely turquoise eyes twinkled-"I somehow think Cyra would want you to have whatever it is. You are surely more like her than I am. Now let us go and fend off the diligent Osman so our visit may be a private one."

  In the courtyard of the house, Esther Kira settled herself comfortably in her own large litter while the bearers stood ready. In the second litter Cat sat listening while Lateefa ordered their chaperon to remain behind.

  "Master Kira is supplying us with a dozen guards," she told the eunuch. "Esther Kira and T would show Incili where my great-grandmother lived. There is no need for you to go. Stay and continue your visit with your friend, Ali."

  Torn between duty and the very pleasant time he was having with the Kira family's head eunuch, Osman hesitated. As he did so, Cat slid from the Utter, her leafgreen eyes narrowing dangerously above her gossamer veil.

  "Insect!" she hissed at him. "How dare you disobey my lady Lateefa Sultan? If you do not return inside the house this instant I shall tell my lord Cica of your insolence towards his first wife. He will have you beaten to death for your rudeness!" And turning her back on him she smiled wickedly at Lateefa, who was struggling to hold back her laughter. The frightened eunuch turned ashen and then fled into the house.

  As the two women settled themselves into the litter, Lateefa chuckled softly. "You may have been born a Scot, my Western cousin, but there is Ottoman in you. And it shows!"

  "When the enemy hesitates, Lateefa, never give him a chance to regroup either his thoughts or his forces.’Tis an old highland battle tactic."

  The two litters were swiftly carried through the noisy streets until, as the noise began to fade, Cat could feel the bearers straining uphill. Finally they stopped. Leaning over, Lateefa drew the curtains aside. Stepping out, she offered a hand to Cat, who quickly joined her cousin.

  Before them stood the fire-racked ruins of the once-great palace which had long ago crowned one of Constantinople's seven hills. Below them, sparkling in all its late-afternoon glory, was the Golden Horn. They saw the city itself and, off in the distance, both the Yeni Serai and the blue Bosporus. For a moment the three women stood transfixed, then Esther Kira said, "Come, my children, and I will show you the Forest Court where the great Cyra Hafise once lived." She signaled to two of the guards to follow them. "They can hear, but are mute," she said with a crafty smile. "They can say nothing of what they see or hear."

  They followed the old woman around the crumbling walls of the Eski Serai until they came to a small iron gate overgrown with weeds. Here Esther stopped and said to their escort, "Cut the growth just enough so that we may pass, but not enough to cause notice in anyone else passing by."

  "What if the gate is locked?" asked Lateefa.

  "It should be, my dear, but I was entrusted with a key which will-after all these years-probably still work." So saying, she stepped forward and carefully tried the cobwebbed lock. After a moment of jiggling the cranky lock turned with a creeking noise. The rusted hinges protesting, the gate slowly opened. "Remain here," Esther commanded their mutes, and then she walked slowly into what had once been the garden of Cyra Hafise. The area was waist-high in ferns, weeds, and autumn flowers. They overran the once neat boundaries of their original beds and the mossy brick walks. The garden had been carefully tended until the fire of 1574. But now the hedges-untrimmed these last twenty-four years-stood like high green walls along the gravel paths. To the amazement of the three women, the fountains were still operable, and filled with not only water lilies gone wild, but enormous goldfish as well.

  "Where does the water come from?" asked Cat.

  "It is pumped underground from one of the old Byzantine or Roman aqueducts. This was originally an imperial palace when Mohammed the Conqueror took the city from the Byzantines. Ah, there is the Forest Court of Cyra Hafise."

  Cat shivered suddenly. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected to be in Istanbul, let alone in the very palace from which her great-grandmother-that imperious old woman-had secretly ruled an empire. This was one of the places where Cyra had been young, beautiful, and very much loved by a great sultan. Cat had never before thought of Cyra in this way, the memory of the old woman being too strong. Awestruck, she followed Lateefa as Esther Kira opened a door into the building and stepped through into a dust-covered, cobweb-laden room.

 
All was still. Cat shivered again, feeling about her the ghosts of the past. Beside her Esther Kira stood lost in memory.

  As Cat's eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, they sought and quickly found the tile fireplace wall. Walking over to it, she carefully looked for the thistle tile mentioned by her son. Finding it, she gently pressed the tile, and it fell into her hand. Without a moment's hesitation she reached into the opening, smiling as her fingers found and curled about a hard object in a soft, rotting velvet bag. Drawing it forth, she opened the bag, drew the pendant out, and triumphantly held it high. "Do your old eyes recognize this, Esther Kira?" And she danced over to the old woman, holding the pendant out to her.

  Esther Kira nodded and smiled with remembrance. "The pendant made by Selim I himself to celebrate the birth of his first child, Sultan Suleiman! Look on the back. Here is his tugra. Why did she not take it with her, Incili? She prized it above all her jewels."

  "In the rush of departure, young Ruth missed it They did not even realize it was not among her things until they reached Scotland. My eldest son gave me a copy of the pendant this New Year's. Since I am here, I thought I should like to retrieve the original. I would like you to keep it for me, Esther, or better yet send it to the Kira bank in Rome for me. When I escape I should not like to be encumbered with such a valuable jewel."

  "You are wise to trust me with it, Incili. If it were found among your things it would be difficult to explain. I will wager that the vizier does not give you enough pin money to account for such an expensive toy!"

  "Let me see it," asked Lateefa softly. And she reverently took it from the old woman's gnarled hands. "It is beautiful! How much he loved her. He placed her above all women. How wonderful to be loved like that! So few of us ever are." Sighing, she handed the pendant back to Esther Kira, who returned it to its bag and placed the bag in a pocket somewhere within her voluminous robes.