The Kadin Read online

  The little maid was terrified. Unable to shake her mistress’s good intentions, she finally burst into tears and confessed the deception. Janet sent for the other kitchen-maid and then pronounced punishment

  “You,” she said to the weeping girl, “will receive five lashes for lying to me. It is little punishment but the soreness of your guilt will be greater than the soreness of your back. I know you will not lie to me again. Had you asked to go to the carnival, I should have allowed it provided your work was done.”

  The girl fell to her knees and kissed the hem of her mistress’s dress.

  Janet turned to the instigator of the plot “Your crime is far worse,” she said sternly. “You encouraged your friend to deceive me. You will receive ten lashes at the end of this day’s work. Then you will spend the night in the chapel praying to Our Blessed Lady Mary to help you mend your ways. I will pray with you so you will not be tempted to sleep. If any servant should lie to me again, I will dismiss him or her immediately.”

  The servants learned their lesson well, but so did Janet She never again indulged them Only the blackamoor, Mamud, was spoiled.

  He had turned out to be a wonderful gift His command of Italian increased daily. He kept Adam amused by the hour, telling him stories of his native land, showing him how to track and trap small animals, and even teaching him a smattering of Arabic Janet joined him in these lessons, for she loved the study of languages and was quite adept at it

  Mamud was also an excellent sailor, and one sunny afternoon in early February, Janet unable to sleep during the customary siesta, called to him to go sailing. Passing Adam’s room, she looked in and observed the boy sprawled sleeping across his bed. Kissing his russet head, she walked on. She stopped a servant on the terrace steps and told him, “Tell my grandmother that I have gone sailing with Mamud and will return by sunset” The servant nodded, and Janet walked down to the beach where Mamud waited ready to push the small craft into the surf.

  The afternoon was balmy and breezy. The sea, a clear azure green capped with white foam, sparkled and danced in the sunlight Janet noted that Mamud had set a basket with white bread, a small yellow cheese, some fruit and a flask of wine in a corner of the boat She complimented him on his thoughtfulness, and he flashed her a smile, his teeth blindingly white against his black face.

  Sailing into her favorite cove, Janet motioned to Mamud to lower the sail, and the little boat scudded up onto the sand. Taking the basket she leaped out and walked up the beach,

  “Do you wish to swim, my lady?”

  “Aye. Do you, Mamud?”

  “Yes, mistress. I love the sea.”

  Janet pointed to a strip of secluded beach a short distance away. “Very well, go along.”

  “But, mistress, I should watch you lest you drown.”

  “I am a strong swimmer, and you need have no fears, my good Mamud. Go.”

  Reluctantly he left her, and, now alone, Janet divested herself of the simple peasant skirt and bodice she wore. The sea was cool and tingling, and she swam slowly, letting the gentle current waft her along. Turning, she returned to the shore and flopped down on the warm sand. Loosening her hair, she shook the water out of it and braided it up, then slipped her skirt and bodice back on over her dry skin.

  Down the beach Mamud cavorted in the waves like a porpoise, and when he returned she motioned him to sit Delving into the hamper, she spread the simple meal on a napkin.

  The late-afternoon sun was warm, and the wine from the hamper sweet. Janet lazily studied the young black man who sat slightly apart from her. She was normally an outgoing, inquisitive girl, and by this time should have known everything about Mamud’s history right down to his great-grandparents, but her recent elevation as the future duchess of San Lorenzo had completely occupied her time. Mamud actually spent more time with her brother. Adam, she was sure, knew all about him Suddenly she could no longer contain her curiosity.

  “Mamud,” she said, “I wish to know of your past life. Were you born a slave?”

  “No, mistress. I am the son of a chief in my own land. One day Muslim slavers raided our village. I was captured while seeing to the safety of my wife and son. My only consolation is that they are safe.”

  “You are married? Then you cannot be a eunuch.”

  “The slaver told that to my lord Rudolfo so he would buy me.”

  “Oh,” she said in a small voice.

  The slave laughed. “My lady need not be afraid. By the standards of my tribe, my lady is quite ugly.”

  Janet stared at him for a moment, wondering if she should be offended. Then she chuckled. “This will be our secret, Mamud. As soon as I can find a way, you shall have your freedom”

  “Thank you, mistress. I would do anything for my freedom.”

  Picking up the basket, Mamud helped his young mistress into their small boat and pushed it back into the sea. Raising the sail, he turned the craft to catch the wind. The sun was just beginning its nightly trip into the Mediterranean. Staying close to the coast, he guided the boat toward Arcobaleno.

  As they rounded a small point, they saw a ship within the cove, apparently taking on water. Mamud made for it

  “What are you doing, Mamud? We have not time to visit that ship, and besides, it doesn’t look like a merchantman to me. Turn the boat”

  The slave stared straight ahead and gripped the ruler.

  “I order you to turn this boat at once, Mamud. The sun will soon be gone. We must reach home before dark.”

  “You will not be going home, mistress. I told you I would do anything for my freedom, and delivering you to a slaver for gold will gain me that freedom.”

  Flinging herself at him, she grappled with him for the tiller. She fought desperately, but Mamud raised his arm and shoved her away. Tumbling back, she struck her head against the side of the boat She struggled to maintain consciousness, but the blow was hard, and she spiraled downward into the blackness. Somewhere in that darkness she felt a thud, then hands upon her body, followed by the feeling of floating freely, and then the hands again.

  Upon regaining her senses, she became aware of a rocking motion and realized she was aboard the ship. Hearing voices nearby, she cautiously opened her eyes and looked about her. She was lying on a divan in a moderate-sized cabin. Beside her a little window looked out on the sea. There was the coast of San Lorenzo. The ship was still at anchor.

  Turning her head slightly, she saw Mamud and another man who was white but was dressed like her slave. They were talking. She cocked her head to hear.

  “How will you explain the girl’s disappearance to her father?” the white man asked.

  “I will tell him we were attacked by pirates. I fought valiantly to save my mistress but was overcome and thrown into the sea for dead. Your men must strike me several times so I look beaten. I shall swim to shore and walk back. Capsize the boat”

  “Your plan is sound, but what will it gain you except the money we’ve paid you for the girl?”

  “The earl is a sentimental man. He will not want me around to remind him of the girl. Since he really doesn’t believe in slavery, he will free me rather than be reminded of his precious daughter. I am sure of it! With papers of manumission from him and the money you’ve paid me, I can safely return to my home.”

  Janet had heard enough. Leaping from the divan, she dashed through the cabin door to the ship’s rail, but before she could leap overboard, two arms grasped her tightly and hauled her, kicking, back to the cabin. “You pig,” she shrieked, flying at Mamud’s face with her nails. He leaped back, startled at the gentle girl’s sudden rage.

  “You have sold me a tigress, Mamud,” laughed the slaver captain, catching hold of Janet “Calm down, little lady. No one will harm you.”

  Janet faced the captain. “What ransom are you asking? Whatever it is, my father will pay it Do you know who I am? This sly slave has misled you. I am no pretty peasant girl. I am the Lady Janet Mary Leslie, daughter of Lord Patrick Leslie, the earl of Gl
enkirk. My father is the am-bassor of His Most Catholic Majesty, James of Scotland, to the court of San Lorenzo. I am betrothed to Rudolfo, heir to Duke Sebastian.”

  ‘Your pedigree is most impressive, my lady. However, there will be no ransom. You will be taken to Crete, where you will be sold to the highest bidder at auction. No ransom can possibly match what you will bring on the block.”

  Janet turned to Mamud. “How could you?” she asked.

  “I am truly sorry, mistress, but I told you I would do anything to gain my freedom. I was a gift from your betrothed. How could you free me without offending him? It would have taken a miracle, and I do not believe in miracles.”

  “I hope my father finds out what you’ve done, Mamud, and when be does, may God help you.”

  The slave grinned at her, and Janet hit him so hard that Adam’s ring opened a cut near his eye. The captain shouted for his servant, who dashed through the door and pinioned the girl’s arms. Janet opened her mouth and began to scream. Quickly the captain motioned Mamud out of the cabin and, dropping something into a goblet of water, forced her to drink. Unconsciousness came quickly and mercifully.

  Her first realization of returning consciousness was the cradlelike rocking of the ship. She lay quietly for a moment, lulled by the false sense of security. Then, remembering where she was, she rose quietly from the divan and inspected her prison.

  The cabin was spacious and furnished in the Eastern manner, with a thick carpet on the floor, a large, pillowed divan, a low, round, inlaid table, more pillows, and several hanging brass lamps. Looking out the little window, she saw the moonlight sprinkling itself across the now-dark sea.

  Turning back to the cabin, she noticed wine and a goblet on the table. Suddenly she realized how thirsty she was and, pouring herself a full measure, drank it down. Its fire restored the warmth to her chilled body. The sound of a bolt being drawn on the door sent her spinning around, and as it opened, she hurled the goblet at the man who stood there.

  “Your aim is no less impressive than your beauty, my little lady. And now, if you have vented your anger, let us talk. I am Captain Gian-Carlo Venutti, at your service.”

  “You are a pig and a bandit, Captain Venutti! If you are truly at my service, you will return me to San Lorenzo at once! I will personally guarantee your safety and a large reward.”

  Captain Venutti ignored her words. “Lady Janet,” he began, “I sail under the protection of Venice. We are now on our way to Candia on the island of Crete. You will be sold at auction to the highest bidder, and a substantial portion of this profit will go into the Venetian treasury.”

  “But the duke of San Lorenzo will pay a large ransom for my safe return.”

  “We are businessmen, not kidnappers. My dear young lady, is it possible you do not realize how beautiful you are? All the money in San Lorenzo could not purchase your freedom You are worth a king’s ransom, and now the matter is closed. Please do not distress yourself by trying to escape. Your every move will be watched. I hope you will be comfortable here. If you desire anything, simply ask the slave at the door.” Then he left her, locking the door behind him.

  For the next six days the ship sailed smoothly across the waters of the Mediterranean. Captain Venutti allowed Janet a small measure of freedom and gave her a portion of the upper deck for exercise and air. In order to take her mind off her predicament, he pointed out the different islands and their characteristics.

  Corfu, second largest of the Ionian isles, and very, very fertile. Mount Aenos, towering over mountainous little Cephalonia. Tiny Zante, which not only raised sheep and goats but somehow managed to grow grapes, olives, wheat, and a variety of fruits. And, of course, the Peloponnesus of southern Greece, also called Morea, and now under Turkish rule. Here, aside from the usual grapes and olives, tobacco was also raised, a small silk industry flourished, and there was an enormous fishing fleet

  On the evening of the sixth day, the ship reached Candia. The pleasant cruise was at an end, and Janet faced the frightening reality of her situation, and the fact that she might never see her family again.

  5

  LORD PATRICK LESLIE had gone wild on learning of his daughter’s disappearance. The slave Mamud, coming from a world where women counted for less than animals, had read his lord wrong. The noble Scot did not reward him with gold and his freedom for his alleged valor in defense of his young mistress. Instead, the enraged father had him clapped in irons and thrown into the duke’s dungeons pending a thorough investigation of his story. Mamud had been right about one thing—Patrick Leslie wanted the slave out of his sight]

  Duke Sebastian’s executioners questioned Mamud carefully and with great skill. Their first discovery was that the eunuch was not a eunuch after all—a situation they quickly remedied.

  Then he was tortured, and throughout the process, one nonparticipant watched Standing stoically in her dark silk gown and starched coif, clutching a plaid shawl about her shoulders to keep out the dampness of the dungeons, Mary MacKay’s blue eyes never left Mamud’e face. The slave was, and always had been, deathly afraid of the old woman’s light-colored eyes. He felt they saw things that mortal eyes did not She knew what he had done, he thought She waited only for his verbal confirmation and the details.

  Slowly, with care, his toenails were removed with red-hot pincers. Mamud shrieked prayers to his tribal gods as this new pain ripped up his legs, through his thighs, and slammed into his chest almost suffocating him. Rivers of sweat poured down his body.

  He closed his eyes to blot out the pain. When he opened them again, he found that woman standing at his side. Her eyes bored into his, and he felt his little strength ebb away.

  “What hae ye done with my granddaughter? Who has her?”

  He did not want to answer. He wanted to confound and curse the old witch, but he couldn’t Those terrible blue eyes were the strongest magic he had ever encountered.

  “Who has my granddaughter?” she repeated.

  “Captain Venutti,” he heard his own voice croak. “Captain Gian-Carlo Venutti of the Venetian Levant!”

  She touched his chest and he shivered violently.

  “Go, laddie,” she said, and he died.

  Mamud’s confession was substantiated when a ship’s captain putting in from Crete spoke in a tavern of a young, red-haired Christian slave girl to be auctioned within a month. Brought before the duke and the Scots ambassador, the captain repeated his story.

  It was common knowledge in the Mediterranean community, said the seaman. An old trick to excite interest and bring in the top connoisseurs. Yes, Captain Venutti of the Venetian Levant was the slave girl’s current owner. She was booty from a raid, it was said, and rumored to be quite a beauty. Curse Venutti! He had all the luck.

  Patrick Leslie ground his teeth in rage. He would have outfitted a warship and stormed Candia to rescue his daughter, but Duke Sebastian prevailed. Mediterranean-born, he was used to these situations and knew how to handle them He would send his cousin, Pietro di San Lorenzo, to the auction to buy the girl back.

  In that way, if the girl were saved, he would stand high in the Scots king’s favor; if she were lost no one could blame him, and the sticky diplomatic situation that would ensue between his country and Scotland would quickly blow over.

  Perhaps his clever cousin could pull it off and regain the little maiden, but privately he doubted it

  In any case, there could no longer be any possibility of young Lady Janet’s marrying his heir. God only knew what had happened to the girl during her captivity. He was a liberal man, but a duchess of San Lorenzo must be above suspicion. Already there had been a tentative overture concerning a match from Toulouse, and he had made secret inquiries of his own archbishop about annnling the betrothal between his son and the Scots girl; but these thoughts Duke Sebastian kept to himself.

  He turned to his companion. “Come, my friend,” he said to Patrick Leslie. “All will work out well, and as God wills it”

  The earl of Gl
enkirk, suspecting the wily duke’s thoughts, glowered at him in impotent fury but said nothing.

  6

  SEVERAL WEEKS LATER, Janet sat quietly in an alcove off a private auction room. She sat quietly, not because she had suddenly become docile, but because she was still partly in shock. The betrayal of Mamud was more than her young mind could grasp, and the swift trip from San Lorenzo to the auction block in Candia had left her numb.

  She had not been treated unkindly at any time since her abduction. Indeed, every effort had been made to provide for her health and comfort. Captain Venutti had brought her from his ship to the house of Abdul ben Abdul, a purveyor of the best merchandise in the world—as Abdul himself had told her. She had been pampered and cosseted for over a month while word swept the Mediterranean of the virgin with the red-gold hair who would be sold at the next full moon.

  During this period she had been kept secluded from the sun while her body was bathed in perfumed waters and bleached with lemons to restore its true whiteness. She had been massaged with sweet-smelling creams until her skin was like silk to the touch. Her tan, under this treatment, had gradually given way to its natural Celtic white.

  This night, the slaves had clothed her in a strange garment A diaphanous fabric of a pale gold color, it was long, pleated, and covered her from her collarbone to her ankles. It was belted at the waist with a green ribbon and tied at each shoulder with matching green ribbons. A long veil of the same color as her dress covered her hair, which had been gathered in one piece, secured with a pearl clasp, and hung down her back. Another veil covered her face, leaving only her green-gold eyes, highlighted with kohl, visible.

  She was not afraid, however, for the visit of Pietro di San Lorenzo, Duke Sebastian’s cousin, who had been sent to buy her freedom, had given hope. He had arrived on a swift ship from Arcobaleno nd, by bribing the head eunuch in Abdul ben Abdul’s house, had been allowed to visit her for a few minutes. He carried a great deal of gold, which he assured Janet would buy her freedom. His only regret was that a lady of her high station would have to submit to public auction, but there was no other way.