Feathers in the Wind: The Cygnets

by Camille Anthony

  Love, Mum

  P.S. It is past time I received a letter from you, young man. I await with bated breath the answer to my meddling. Write soon.—Mum

  Merridyth fidgeted, waiting to be seen by the Sultan. Unlike the last time, she had some idea of what the impending audience would entail; what she would be facing when the doors to the mabeyn opened and she met with the Sultan for the second time. The knowledge was not reassuring. He was bound to be incensed over her reversal, and his anger brought a dangerous element to their coming encounter ... dangerous for her, at any rate!

  The great doors swung open. An eunuch gestured towards her, and Merridyth walked forward, tossing a hurried harried prayer heaven-ward, knowing she would need all the help she could beg, borrow or bargain for...

  "So! You look well ... for an opium-head."

  The unexpected viciousness of the taunt rocked her, halting her progress across the wide marbled floor. Her first impulse was to answer with a sharp retort, but she gave herself a shake, choking back the hot words she wanted to hurl in the arrogant bully's face.

  "Thank you, Sire,” she bowed low, her own words sarcastically calm; her stance composed. “You have excellent medical help available here at Topkapi palace."

  "Certainly, our physicians are far superior to any practicing their barbarous quackery in England.” Selim blithely insulted the entire English medical profession.

  Oh, you're just enjoying yourself immensely, aren't you? Merri narrowed her eyes at the potentate, certain he could barely manage to control the urge to rub his hands together in glee. He in turn was not fooled by her cool façade. He had to know his words had made her angry as homeless hornets, and he couldn't wait to rub more salt into her wounds.

  "Approach me, kiz,” he ordered. “I would have your opinion of my newest haseki—"

  Merri had totally overlooked the veiled woman seated so silently and still at the Sultan's feet. Glancing over at her now, she saw nothing to merit a second glance. Then the Sultan spoke again.

  "Remove your covering Snow. Are we not among ... friends?"

  The woman removed her veil, shaking her head to allow her hair to fall about her shoulders. Tears ran down her face and dripped off her chin.

  "Susan!” Merri gasped, leaping towards her cousin, so glad to see her she felt faint with relief. Tears rose and overflowed as the cousins embraced. Susan had a death-grip on her taller relative. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs.

  "Merri, you are well!"

  "Thank God you're alive!"

  "I knew you were dying, and there was nothing I could do!"

  "I could not gain any information of where you were ... No one would tell me anything! I didn't know what to think!"

  Selim's generous top lip firmed and thinned. His nostrils flared. Susan was gripping her cousin as if she would never let go. Her eyes, though awash with tears, were shining, more alive than he had ever seen them—even in the midst of passion. The vibrant light of love softened the features of her face. Selim growled. He did not like to see Susan so emotional with her cousin; so open in her caring when she still refused to admit to her feelings for him!

  "Where is Seana?"

  The Storm-bringer's question brought the Sultan's attention back to the point, and he waited to see what Susan would say.

  "I do not know. She was taken from the harem the same day I was brought here. I have not been allowed out of these chambers since. The Sultan—” she cast a fulminating glare his way “—refuses to answer my questions concerning her, other than to say she has been removed to a private place."

  Merri kept hold of Susan's hand when she turned to face the Ottoman ruler. “Please, I am deeply sorry for the words I spoke while under the influence of that drug. Can we not be at peace? Believe me, I am mortified over what I have been told of my actions and conversation during that time. I have never gone back on my word before, nor maligned someone behind their back...” She paused.

  "I have not seen anything to indicate that you are not a just ruler. How long will you continue to punish others for my mistake? Punish me, instead, and allow my cousin and my friend to go free."

  Selim stood up and beckoned to Susan. He found he did not like her holding hands or touching anyone other than himself. His eyes narrowed warningly when she hesitated. She read the warning correctly and, tearing her hand from Merri's compulsive grip, she slipped away to stand beside the sultan.

  "I will never let Susan go free from me.” Selim exclaimed in a firm voice. “She is haseki now, and I find her service ... adequate."

  Merri was silent as she ran the unfamiliar word through her mind. “Haseki ... haseki...! That means body ... no, sex slave!” Merri drew an indignant breath. “You cannot treat her thus!"

  "I have."

  "But,” Merri fumbled, seeking a plausible excuse, “she is untrained."

  "I have undertaken her training myself. She is coming along ... quite nicely."

  Selim's condescending words left the fuming Merri fuming no argument.

  Susan caught her eye. “Just let it go for now, Merri."

  "What of Seana, then? What have you done with her? Is she safe? Being cared for?"

  "So many questions! One would think you cared.” Selim mocked her again by questioning her concern for the missing child-woman.

  "I do care!” Merri insisted furiously.

  "Then you should have honored your commitment to me, and gone willingly to my son's bed!” The Sultan's eyes snapped with ire.

  Merri gritted her teeth. “I have told you and told you—” she stated with slow, evenly spaced words, “I was not responsible for my actions. Had I been sober and alert, I would have chosen to fulfill my word to you and your son. I am still willing to do so. What must I do to convince you of my sincerity?"

  "Certainly more than you did the last time we played this scene."

  Susan's head went back and forth, watching Merri and Selim sparring. “The two of you are somewhat alike. It's true,” she insisted when both Selim and Merri stared at her in consternation. “Merri, while not a despot, you have been known to bully one into doing what you wish. In fact, because your home-life was a series of traumatic events, a steady diet of upheavals, you learned early on to maneuver people and events so they came out the way you wanted. In short, you are a despot-in-training; albeit a benevolent one."

  Merri stood there with her mouth hung open as she turned to Selim.

  "You, sire, on the other hand, are leagues in advance of Merri when it comes to despotism. You've had years of absolute rule to perfect your skills in manipulation and trickery. You wield enormous power, not hesitating to administer judgment in life and death situations, and have grown inured to the softer emotions of love and affection. You are capable of acts of mercy, but are seldom motivated by kindness. Your wants and needs are paramount to you, taking precedence in all things. Sometimes, even over justice."

  "I am nothing like that!"

  "I am not a despot!"

  "You are a trouble maker, which is why I call you the Storm-bringer!"

  "Well, you are a ravisher of women and make with no mistake about it, the world will know of your perfidy!"

  The fight waged on. The Sultan reverted to his usual threats and coercion; Merri retreating into an adamantine stubbornness. Down at her side, her hands tightened into fists, and she was suddenly tired of all their fighting.

  "Stop it!” she ordered shrilly, driven beyond exasperation by their continued arguments, their selfish determination to win. Moving to stand between them, she held a hand up on either side of her body, silently daring them to pass her improvised barrier. “I am sick to death of this fighting and posturing!” she said, words spilling out of control. “You neither of you have a care for those of us caught up in this situation with you. The Prince, Seana, myself ... we all should have a voice in determining the outcome of our lives!” She paused, gathering her breath, her courage. “I am entering this equation,” she announced firmly. “I hav
e a ... bargain of my own to make."

  The silence that met her declaration was fraught with disbelief. Then both antagonists spoke at once...

  "Well, well...! It seems my frozen Snow hides the heart of a volcano!"

  "Susan, no!"

  "Susan, yes!” Merri's blond cousin replied adamantly. “And why not Susan?” she asked. “Do you think you are the only one who can dictate terms and make soul-destroying transactions? Are you the only one capable of heroic decisions? I do not need taking care of, Merri. I can take care of myself ... and sometimes, I can protect my own interests ... and those of my friends."

  "But you do not have to do this” Merri protested.

  "Yes, I do! And for the same reasons you made that earlier bargain, the exact same reason.” She watched Merri's eyes widen, and knew her cousin understood her unspoken motivation. She only wished Merridyth would be as understanding as she, herself had been when the tables had been reversed.

  "I am waiting to hear what bargain you offer,” Selim interrupted the women's conversation without apology.

  Merridyth turned on the Sultan, almost spiting in her resentful anger. “This is all your fault!” she accused bitterly. “If not for your infernal intentions, my cousin would not feel compelled to—” She broke off suddenly, lifting a hand to her forehead and brushing off a wayward fall of hair. She swayed on her feet, her knees weak; barely able to support her weight. Her face was pale. Perspiration dotted her skin, giving it a pearlescent glow; attractive, but dangerous in her weakened condition.

  "Permit her to sit down, please!” Susan begged the Sultan, reminding him Merri had only just risen from a sick-bed. She breathed a sigh of relief when he magnanimously nodded his consent. She watched gestured for a eunuch to bring a backless stool and place it near the dais where the Sultan's throne rested.

  "Thank you,” she breathed, newly aware of how much power this man held over her and her friends. She could only imagine how exhausted Merri was by the alacrity with which she sank onto the low camp chair. By sheer force of will, she clasped her hands together, holding herself back from rushing to Merri's side.

  "Now that your cousin, the Storm-bringer is somewhat recovered, will you now share with us your plans?"

  Merri attempted to rise from her perch on the stool, determined to reassure Susan that her sacrifice was not necessary, but was waved back by a pass of her cousin's hand.

  "Certainly, my Lord,” Susan said. She lifted her chin in an unconscious imitation of Merri's practiced gesture. “I propose an exchange. Seana's safe return for my ... surrender."

  A crack of laughter escaped the Sultan. “What kind of bargain is that?” he chuckled. “I already own you. You already occupy my bed."

  "But not willingly. You control my body and, yes, you elicit a response from me even when I fight you with all my being. But I have lain beside you afterwards, and I know you want something more ... You want what I refuse to give you."

  Selim looked a little uncomfortable at having Merri hear what Susan was revealing, however, he chose to have her continue. “And what do you think that is...?"

  "You want my willing participation, my active enjoyment and my arms enfolding you rather than pushing you away. You crave at least the semblance of a loving relationship ... true?"

  Selim turned away and walked back to his throne. He sat with a heavy sigh, leaned back, and simply looked at Susan from under hooded lids, his expression guarded and closed.

  "Su-san!” Merri implored in a small voice that broke in the midst of the name.

  Susan ignored the plea. “Wouldn't you like me to initiate the encounters sometimes? Does it not wear on you to always be the supplicant? For that is what you are—what you do. Your body begs, though your mouth is silent. Your empty arms speak louder than your words ... and they tell a different story altogether."

  Selim held up a hand, the imperial gesture enough to stop her words, but not her speaking eyes. “What would your bargain demand of me? What would you expect of me?"

  "Forgive Merri her trespass against you. Allow her to fulfill the bargain she made with you."

  "Done."

  "Give Seana back to us."

  Selim frowned. “That I cannot do."

  "You mean you will not do it,” Merri accused, eyes narrowed in scorn.

  "No, I mean I cannot return her to you.” He heaved an exasperated sigh. “But I will tell you one thing,” he said, “I tire of your interference. For the moment, this conversation is between the haseki and me. If you persist in participating where you are not welcome, I will have you removed."

  Her pardon was too new, and Merri was not willing to chance angering the Sultan beyond what his uncertain tempter would allow. She bit her bottom lip, worrying the tender flesh as she conceded the battle to Susan.

  "Why do you say Seana is not able to return to us? Are you not the Sultan?” Susan taunted, driven by desperation. “Master of all you survey? Surely there is nothing you cannot control, no situation you cannot overpower."

  A dread thought crossed Susan's mind. The same possibility must have occurred to Merridyth, for she sprang up from the stool, forgetful and uncaring of her recent bout of weakness, gasping, “Oh, no...!"

  "Selim, have you had her ... put to death?” It was the hardest question Susan had ever asked, for she feared the answer more than she feared her unwanted, growing feelings for the Sultan.

  Selim turned a disapproving glare upon Susan, the fierce expression furrowing wrinkles across his forehead. “She is one of Allah's chosen—one who has been touched by the deity's finger. It is forbidden to harm such as she. I am hurt by your suspicions. She lives,” he stated coldly, “but in another man's harem. She was my gift to him."

  Susan did not understand the significance of his words, did not care for anything but Seana's return. “Why can you not just order him to give her back?"

  "Not even a Sultan may violate a man's private seraglio. When a Sultan gives a virgin from his own harem, it is a great honor. It would be considered an insult to merely keep the woman as chattel. The man receiving such a gift marries the woman, thereby forming a bond of family with the Sultan. It could be considered justification for revolution against my rule should I demand the woman back without provocation."

  Merri slumped down on the stool, more tired and dejected than she had ever been. “Then all is lost for her."

  "I refuse to believe that.” Susan moved to confront Selim. “Can you get the man to allow a visit? Here or at his home?” When the Sultan did not answer right away, she added, “I would still honor the bargain if you could just let us see her. We need to know she is all right."

  "My word will not suffice?"

  Both women looked at him askance, their glances so similar and synchronized it startled a laugh out of the potentate. “I suppose not!” he said when he'd finished laughing. “Very well,” he concurred, “I will arrange something. However, I have some stipulations of my own."

  Susan straightened her shoulders and braced herself. “Go on."

  "First,” Selim ticked the points off his fingers, “the Storm-bringer goes to my son this very night."

  "But she is still ill!” Susan argued to no avail.

  "The night's activity will not require much energy on her part this first time,” the Sultan pointed out matter-of-factly. “She is, after all, a virgin. Jamal will not expect anything out of the way.” He waited to see if either woman had any opposition before continuing. “My second stipulation requires you begin fulfilling your half of this bargain—as a show of good intentions—before the projected visit with your red-haired friend.” He trained his intent stare Susan's way. Under that direct gaze, she felt the room heat up as the temperature rose to an uncomfortable degree ... or was it only her?

  "When would you expect that?” she asked suspiciously.

  "Immediately,” Selim answered quickly. “Tonight. Now!"

  Now? Susan had expected to have a least a couple of days to prepare herself before havi
ng to uphold her side of any bargain. So much for that! She thought wryly. She nodded her head, conceding. “Very well ... tonight."

  "Susan you do not have to do this for me—” Merri moaned.

  "Merri, do not worry so!” Susan pleaded. “I know what I am doing! Believe me and trust me."

  "Instead of worrying over Susan, who is at least accustomed to what she faces,” the Sultan cut in not unkindly, “I suggest you study how you might please my son. You haven't much time.” He grinned, gold eyes mocking. “Jamal having waited such a long time for you, I am sure this night will not come quickly enough for him. Nor will it hold enough hours in which to do all he has planned. A rest might be in order."

  Chapter Forty-six

  Peacock Villa in Istanbul, home of Emil, Bay of Seyhan

  "What is the meaning of this?” Emil stormed about his private harem, anger evident in his flashing eyes and harsh words. He came to a stop before a low couch upon which was huddled the pathetic bundle of clothes that was the Lady Seana McCarris.

  She was a mess—hair matted with bits of food, clothes likewise soiled and smelly—her skin, all that was exposed, was filthy. And she stank to high heaven.

  "When I give orders, I expect them to be carried out expressly.” The Bey's voice dipped in threat, his volume lowering in direct contrast to his rising temper until his words were a raspy whisper.

  "Master! We attempted to—"

  An up-flung hand stopped the flow of excuses. “I did not say attempt to keep her clean, did I?” he asked, his tones coldly sarcastic.

  The harried mistress of the harem shook her bowed head. “No, effendi, but—"

  "Whenever I come to visit with her, I expect her to be clean, presentable, and dressed as befits a wife offered from the hand of the Sultan, himself. The message will be driven home with severe punishments all around, should I find it necessary to repeat myself again!"