Captive of the Harem

by Anne Herries

  ‘So you are stil a coward?’ Suleiman’s mouth curved in a

  sneer of contempt. ‘You are brave when you hold the whip and

  the woman is defenceless, but when it comes to fighting a man

  you have milk in your veins. You are not worthy to be my

  brother and I shal not treat you as one. You wil be sent to the

  galeys for five years, and you may earn your freedom by the

  sweat of your back—it is more than you granted to those

  women you sold into a life of misery in the lowest brothels.’

  Suleiman turned away to pick up a bel that would summon

  the guard, and in that moment Abu sprang for the knife. He had

  it in his hand and was aiming for his half-brother’s back when

  Suleiman turned, grabbing Abu’s forearm and jerking him so that

  he went flying over his shoulder. The movement was so fast and

  so unexpected that the eunuch lay winded and bewildered

  wondering what had happened, the knife now in his half-

  brother’s possession.

  ‘Kil me, then,’ he cried. ‘Kil me now. You intended it al the

  time.’

  ‘I do not lie or cheat,’ Suleiman said. ‘You had your chance

  to fight me fairly. Had you done so, I would have spared you

  and set you free even had I won—but now your punishment is

  set. Take him away…’

  Three guards had come into the room as they spoke, and

  they laid rough hands on Abu, dragging him to his feet and

  carrying him off as he screamed abuse at Suleiman’s back, which

  was now turned against him.

  ‘May Alah curse you…may you never reach paradise…may

  your entrails be eaten by wild dogs.’

  your entrails be eaten by wild dogs.’

  Suleiman ignored Abu’s curses as he was taken away. A

  swift death by beheading would perhaps have been kinder than

  five years in the galeys, but Abu deserved his punishment. Yet

  even so the whole incident left a sour taste in Suleiman’s mouth.

  Had there been another way…but to have simply banished Abu

  would have been considered weakness in the eyes of others.

  Suleiman understood the nature of the world in which he

  lived; it was often cruel and even savage as Eleanor had claimed,

  but a firm hand was needed to keep order. Caliph Bakhar had

  told him that it was not always easy to hand out the harsh

  punishments necessary, but it had to be done if the order of the

  empire was to stand.

  For how long would such an empire continue to flourish?

  Suleiman Bakhar had pondered it often, for although Suleiman

  the Magnificent was a just and wise ruler he was no longer young

  —and after him, what? The Ottoman Empire had ruled by blood

  and fear, and when weakness was added to that it could become

  corrupt and brutal.

  The Caliph’s son might never have left his father’s palace, but

  he knew that there was hatred between the outside world and

  the empire. This hatred was grounded in differences of religion

  and culture, but it had been compounded by the many victories

  of Suleiman the Magnificent over his rivals and enemies—yet one

  day he would be gone and then the empire would begin to

  crumble. It had been predicted by astrologers and it would come

  to pass if no lessons were learned from the past.

  to pass if no lessons were learned from the past.

  It was Suleiman Bakhar’s opinion that the time had come to

  try and make peace with the Christian world. If this were not

  attempted, one day the forces of Christendom would unite to

  drive their enemies from the sea. Perhaps not while the Sultan

  lived, but after his death. The Sultan’s son Selim was rumoured

  to be weak and marred with the cruelty of his kind, and if he

  were to rule in his father’s place it could lead only to the gradual downfal of the empire.

  Yet there was nothing to be done, for Suleiman Bakhar was

  tied to his father’s palace, kept from any valuable work he might

  have done for his country by his father’s fear of losing him.

  Besides, his opinion counted for less than a single grain of sand

  and there was none to heed it.

  ‘May it be as Alah wils it,’ he murmured to himself and

  dismissed the problem from his mind. There were far more

  pressing problems to be solved for the moment…not least the

  delicious one of how best to tempt Eleanor to his bed.

  Eleanor pored over the book Suleiman had sent her. It had

  come from the great Venetian printing presses and concerned the

  benefits of mixing astrology with medicine. Certain remedies

  were said to be more effective if used when the stars were in a

  particular conjunction, and although she did not realy see how

  this could be so, it made fascinating reading. How she wished

  that she might consult her father, for he had known far more on

  the subject than she. She wished that Sir Wiliam could have

  the subject than she. She wished that Sir Wiliam could have

  talked to Suleiman, and believed the two men would have found

  pleasure in each other.

  Once again her thoughts returned to her brother. Richard

  hated Suleiman and al he stood for.

  Knowing her brother was in the palace and attending the

  school was both a pleasure and a torment to her. As children

  they had spent much of their time together, and even when they

  were older they had shared the same delights and pastimes.

  Richard had often come to seek her out when she was at some

  female duty and coaxed her into going out with him.

  How it must irk him now that he had no freedom to do as he

  pleased. Like her, Richard would find life very different here to

  the one they had known at home. They had been fortunate in

  their father, their lives rich and fulfiling…but at least they were

  luckier than many who had suffered a fate similar to their own.

  Eleanor was growing more content with her lot, though her

  defiant spirit stil struggled against the fact that she was a slave, the property of her master. Yet she knew that she must make the

  best of things and count her blessings.

  Besides the book, Suleiman had also sent her a new journal

  to replace the one she had almost filed with his own work, and

  she had transcribed passages of the book she thought might

  interest him. She thought that he was stil concerned about his

  friend in the Janissaries who had developed a lump in his side,

  for he had marked one section and she paid particular attention

  to this so that she could discuss it with him when he sent for her

  as he had promised.

  as he had promised.

  She could hardly wait for the afternoon to come, and was

  conscious of excitement when Karin told her that she had at last

  been sent for.

  ‘You are to take the book you have been studying.’ Karin

  looked at her in a slightly puzzled way. ‘Al this is most strange,

  Eleanor. I have never heard of it happening before—older

  women are sometimes asked to become an adviser in domestic

  matters, but never a woman of your age and beauty.’

  ‘I think the lord Suleiman likes to talk to me,’ Eleanor said.

  ‘Beside
s, I have been able to help him with some texts he found

  difficult to read.’

  Karin nodded. ‘Yes, I see that, but it is stil a little strange.’

  She frowned and looked thoughtful. ‘I tel you this in confidence,

  Eleanor—and beg that you wil speak of it to no one else. It is

  my lord’s wish that none of the concubines should know this… I

  have been told that Abu has been sent to the galeys as a

  punishment for what he did—and they also whisper that he tried

  to kil the lord Suleiman.’

  ‘No!’ Eleanor felt a sudden shaft of fear. ‘Was he hurt—the

  lord Suleiman?’

  ‘No, not at al. He disarmed Abu instantly.’ Karin smiled at

  her. ‘You have never seen your lord fight, have you? He is both

  clever and strong, and he always wins in the arena.’

  Eleanor nodded, her cheeks warm. She had heard this from

  others, and found herself thinking that she would enjoy watching

  such a test of skil. ‘Does he often fight?’

  ‘It is one of his main pleasures to train and fight with the

  ‘It is one of his main pleasures to train and fight with the

  Janissaries,’ Karin told her.

  Eleanor made no reply. It seemed to her that Suleiman

  Bakhar was a man of extreme contrasts—the fierce competitor

  who delighted in the arts of war and the clever, studious man

  who had made his eyes ache looking for a cure for a sick friend.

  She knew that this man interested her as no man ever had

  before, and the thought of seeing him, of being with him, made

  her heart beat faster so that she walked more quickly. By the

  time she arrived at his apartments she was flushed and a little out

  of breath.

  ‘You look warm, my lady,’ Suleiman said, offering her his

  hand. ‘Come, we shal walk in the shade of the garden for a

  while before we begin our studies. If you would like it, I shal

  show you my hawks.’

  ‘Do you go hawking, my lord?’ Eleanor asked. ‘It is a

  pastime my father greatly enjoyed when in the north of our

  country. We did not live there, for as I have told you our estates

  were in the west—but my father had a sister he dearly loved and

  her husband had a great estate in the north. My uncle had a

  wonderful falconry, and sometimes he would let me stroke the

  birds.’

  ‘Did you fly the hawks, Eleanor?’

  ‘Once,’ she replied, smiling at the memory. ‘My cousin was

  training a new bird and he showed me how it was done. I was

  thriled when the bird came to my lure.’

  ‘It is truly a magnificent sight to see the hawk fly free and then

  ‘It is truly a magnificent sight to see the hawk fly free and then

  have it return to your hand,’ Suleiman said. ‘Perhaps one day we

  shal ride out into the countryside together, Eleanor. You might

  like to hunt with me when I fly my birds?’

  ‘It would be a pleasure and an honour, my lord.’

  Suleiman had been leading her towards a door that opened

  out into an enclosed garden. She caught a glimpse of shaded

  walks and fountains playing into little pools, very much as in the

  gardens of the harem. But now he stopped and glanced at her, a

  flicker of amusement in his eyes.

  ‘What has caused this transformation, my lady? Have you no

  objections to my plans today? No obstinacy?’

  ‘Why should I object when you suggest only that which

  would give me pleasure, my lord?’

  ‘I am glad that you share my pleasure in the hawks, Eleanor.’

  He smiled at her, and they continued on in silence until they came

  to the falconry at the end of a shaded walk. This was a

  magnificent structure with both open and closed areas, so that

  the birds might fly free as wel as perch inside when night fel.

  Suleiman took a key on a chain he wore on his person and

  unlocked the door, going inside to bring out a fine peregrine

  falcon. ‘How do you like my darling?’ he asked in soft husky

  tones, stroking the head of the bird with his finger. ‘Is she not

  beautiful?’

  Eleanor looked at the glossy feathers and dark, glittering eyes

  of the female falcon, and knew that she was perhaps the most

  magnificent she had ever seen. Female peregrines were faster

  and stronger than the male of the species and much prized for

  and stronger than the male of the species and much prized for

  their strength in hunting.

  ‘Very beautiful, my lord. What is her name?’

  ‘Scheherazade,’ he replied and looked at her expectantly.

  Eleanor laughed and met his look with a sparkling one of her

  own. ‘I have heard the name,’ she said. ‘It is a legend long told

  amongst the peoples of Arabia, is it not?’

  ‘It has been told for centuries past, and I believe was Persian

  in origin, though the story is set in India. As perhaps you know, it is the story of the betrayed Sultan who vowed to cut off his

  wife’s head at dawn and take a new one every day,’ Suleiman

  said. ‘By her cleverness in teling stories Scheherazade was able

  to prolong the day of her execution for one hundred and one

  days, by which time the Sultan had falen in love with this clever

  woman and could not bear to be parted from her.’

  Eleanor nodded, recognising the humour and wit shown by

  his choice of the name for the bird. ‘Is your peregrine so clever

  that you could not bear to part with her?’

  ‘She is both brave and clever,’ Suleiman replied, ‘and yet she

  has learned to love her master. She wil fly free and return to me

  without a lure.’

  ‘Then she is an exceptional bird,’ Eleanor said. ‘I do not think

  my uncle had such a hawk in his aviary.’

  ‘It is very rare to find such loyalty, such devotion—in any

  female,’ Suleiman replied. ‘That is what makes her beyond

  price.’

  He lifted his wrist suddenly, giving the peregrine her freedom

  to circle the gardens. She flew high and circled several times

  to circle the gardens. She flew high and circled several times

  before settling in a tree high above them, but when Suleiman held

  out his arm and caled to her in the soft husky voice that held

  such fascination for both the bird and the woman who watched,

  Scheherazade flew back to him.

  ‘I have never seen that before,’ Eleanor said and there was a

  kind of awe in her words. ‘Always, the birds come for the lure,

  for food—but she came to the sound of your voice.’

  ‘She knows that I love her,’ Suleiman said softly. ‘And she

  has learned to love her master—though at first she longed to be

  free. Now she rejects freedom for love.’

  Eleanor felt her spine tingle as she met the dark intensity of his

  eyes. What was he teling her? That she too would have a certain

  freedom if she gave herself to him in love? To be truly loved

  would be a wondrous thing. Her heart seemed to catch with an

  odd pain, and she knew a deep longing within her, but she

  suppressed it fiercely. She was a woman, not a bird of prey!

  She turned away to inhale the perfume of a musk rose and

  Suleiman left her to
return the hawk to its perch in the aviary.

  When he returned to her, it was as if the incident had never

  happened.

  ‘Wel, my lady,’ he said in his mocking tone. ‘And what have

  you learned since we met? I hope you have not been idle?’

  ‘No, my lord. I have been translating the work you set me

  into English and trying to discover exactly what circumstances

  are necessary for the cure to work.’

  ‘And what have you discovered?’

  ‘It seems that the stars must be in a certain alignment when

  the powder is applied—but I fear that particular conjunction wil

  not come about for some weeks yet.’

  ‘That is a pity,’ Suleiman said, and his expression was grave.

  ‘The surgeons tel me that if they are to cut it must be soon or the

  sickness wil be too advanced. I had hoped to spare my friend

  the knife, but I fear there is no hope for it. I shal give the order this evening.’

  ‘I am sorry, my lord.’

  ‘Yes, so am I. Too often the knife leads to infection and

  death—besides the pain of bearing it.’

  ‘But if there is nothing else to be done…’ She saw that he

  was distressed by the idea of his friend’s suffering. ‘I have

  copied out a recipe for an ointment that I know to be helpful in

  the treatment of wounds. It is made from cobwebs and might

  prove useful…if your physicians would care to have it made up.’

  ‘Give it to me,’ Suleiman replied. ‘We shal try everything that

  may help him—for he is a brave soldier and does not deserve to

  die in such a way.’

  ‘Surely no one does, my lord. Medical science can do only

  so much—the rest is in God’s hands.’

  Suleiman nodded, his expression thoughtful. ‘But whose god,

  Eleanor—yours or mine?’

  ‘Who can know that for certain?’ she asked, wondering that

  he should voice his thoughts so openly to her, for surely it was

  forbidden to him to think in such a way? And even a powerful

  man could be brought down by the jealousy and spite of others.

  man could be brought down by the jealousy and spite of others.

  To discuss such matters with her was to make himself vulnerable

  to bigotry and prejudice. ‘When the ship I was on almost

  floundered in a storm I prayed to al the gods for help—yours,

  mine and the god of the sea.’

  ‘You should not say such things,’ Suleiman warned her,

  though he himself had begun the discussion. ‘Do you not know