The Kadin Read online

  “On your knees!”

  The captain nudged the shah’s concubine, and she grudgingly knelt before the princess.

  “I beg Your Imperial Highness’s forgiveness, but so great was my desire to welcome you to Persia—”

  Plum Jade stopped her with an imperious wave of her hand.

  “I am ‘Your Majesty,’ insolent slave!”

  “Not until you have wed with my lord,” snapped Shannez.

  Plum Jade slapped her. “Do you think the shah can return the merchandise if it displeases him, which, I guarantee, it will not?”

  “Your Majesty, I have acted hastily in my enthusiasm. I have been highhanded and rude. Forgive me, my queen, and let us be friends. I can help you.”

  Mollified, but not fooled by the woman’s words, Princess Plum Jade spoke. “I doubt, Lady Shannez, that we can ever be friends, but perhaps we do not have to be enemies. Leave me now. I would rest.”

  The Persian withdrew, and once out of hearing, Shannez spoke.

  “That bitch must never be our queen. She is too proud of her race and will be more loyal to China than to Persia. When she bears the shah a son, she will turn him and our country into vassals of China.” She turned to the captain of the shah’s guard. “Hassan, you must help me.”

  Hassan was not taken in by the concubine’s patriotic speech, but her words had made some sense. “You cannot kill her, Lady Shannez. The truth would reach the imperial court of China, and we would have a war on our hands.”

  “I do not intend to kill her. Princess Plum Jade will marry the shah—but not the real princess. None of our people has seen Plum Jade, and they will not until we are ready to leave. Tomorrow the Chinese return home. You will insist on resting the horses another day, and I alone will wait on the princess. When evening comes I will drug her, and two of your men will carry her to Baghdad to be sold as a slave. I will substitute the princess’s slave girl, Mai Tze, for the princess.”

  “But will the slave girl cooperate with you?”

  “If she wishes to live a long life, she will,” smiled Shannez. “And, Hassan, tell your men I want the princess sold unharmed. They are not to use her. Virgins bring a better price, and the higher the price, the greater their share. Have them sell her in the open market I will grind her pride to dust!

  “The shah will wonder why the princess has no slave girl of her own. It was part of the agreement that she be allowed to keep her. I will tell him that the princess became angry with the girl’s insolence and, not wishing to trouble the shah, sold her.”

  At dawn the Chinese departed for their own country, and Princess Plum Jade and Mai Tze were left alone with the Persians. Shannez gently insisted that they spend a quiet day in preparation for the long trip ahead. To facilitate this, the concubine played soft songs on a lute and even brought the princess’s meals with her own hands.

  Night fell, and the shah’s mistress suggested that Plum Jade try a cup of warmed goat’s milk. It would help her to sleep, and the shah frequently enjoyed it, she said. The princess thought the goat’s milk revolting, but drank it all and soon fell into a deep sleep. Mai Tze, who had also been allowed to partake of the liquid, slept, too.

  Several weeks later, Hadji Bey passed an open slave market in the city of Baghdad. This was the furthest afield he had come in his search, and he was becoming discouraged. He had visited every good slave merchant in the city but had not found what he was looking for. There had been many lovely maidens, but none had the qualities of spirit, beauty, and intelligence which he sought

  Now something caught his eye on the raised platform. A girl—naked and dirty—crouched in a corner attempting to cover herself with her long hair. He stopped and stared. Aware of his close scrutiny, she shot him a look of defiance.

  Hadji Bey signaled the slave master and pointed. “That girl. How much?”

  The slaver forced Plum Jade up. “A rare flower from the ancient land of Cathay, my noble lord.” His hand cupped a firm, pear-shaped breast “A virgin. Fresh and nubile.”

  “Stop fondling the girl and tell me the price you have put on her,” said Hadji Bey.

  “Fifty dinars—gold. I bought her months ago from a caravan and paid a pretty penny. Fifty gold dinars, my lord.”

  “He bought me three days ago from two soldiers who kidnapped me, and he paid them twenty dinars,” spoke the girl.

  The slave master shot her a furious look.

  “Thirty dinars,” said Hadji Bey, counting the coins out and dropping them into the man’s outstretched hand.

  Pocketing his gain, the merchant shoved Plum Jade at Hadji Bey. “Go to your master, girl.”

  She turned on him and raked him with her nails. “Do not touch me again, you foul vermin!”

  Hadji Bey put an arm around the girl. “Gently, my daughter. Your ordeal is over.” Then, to the merchant, “Give me her clothes. She has been shamed enough and must not walk through the streets naked.”

  The slave master reached into a trunk on the platform and drew out some shoddy rags.

  “Thief,” screamed Plum Jade. “Where is my silk robe?”

  Hadji Bey firmly pushed the man aside and, reacting into the trunk, withdrew the yellow-and-white silk robe. The girl snatched it and put it on.

  As he led her away, he said, “Tell me your name, my child.”

  “I am Princess Plum Jade of China.”

  “I shall call you Zuleika.”

  She looked at him.

  “Zuleika,” he said quietly, “was a great warrior princess.”

  “And so,” said Zuleika, “we returned to Damascus to fetch Firousi, heard about you, and hurried here to Crete.”

  Janet stared at her two companions. “Are you sure there is no escape?” she asked.

  “None,” answered Firousi, “and why would you want to escape? Where would you go? You couldn’t go home. No one would ever believe you had escaped still innocent from the sultan of Turkey. People would point at you in the streets, and no good father would permit his son to wed with you. You would grow old, never knowing love, pensioned off, perhaps, to help raise your brother’s children. Neither a servant nor a respectable member of the family. At least as members of Sultan Bajazet’s household we will know luxury, perhaps love, and even children of our own. Do you still want to return?”

  Janet shook her head. “No,” she said, “you are right There is no turning back for any of us. I have heard that the women of the sultan’s harem intrigue against one another to keep his favor. We three have all been torn from our families, we have known misfortune. In union there is strength. If we must be slaves, let us be powerful ones. Let us agree that, no matter what happens, each of us will support the other two. In this way we may someday rule not only the harem but the sultan as well.”

  Zuleika and Firousi smiled at Janet

  “The child in you flees with the dawn, Cyra,” said Firousi.

  “Yes,” she answered. “Gone are the Princess Plum Jade of Cathay, Marya Rostov of the Caucasus, and Lady Janet Leslie of Scotland. They were little girls. In their places stand three women, members of Sultan Bajazet’s household—Zuleika, Firousi, and Cyra. Will you agree to my pact?”

  “Yes,” said Firousi, placing her hand on Janet’s.

  “And I, too,” answered Zuleika, putting her hand on theirs.

  Dawn began to break over the island of Crete. The three girls, comforted by each other’s presence, changed into night garments and lay down to sleep.

  Janet taking one last look at Candia’s harbor, sighed at the sight of the ship that was now making its way out to the open sea. At its mast flew the golden falcon of San Lorenzo. Slowly she turned to her couch and lay down.

  Across the room a small panel slipped noiselessly into place on the wall, and behind that wall Hadji Bey spoke quietly to himself. “I have chosen well. May Allah be blessed. Now the empire will be safe.”

  8

  THE VOYAGE FROM CRETE to Constantinople was a pleasant one. Cyra, Firousi, and Zuleika
were permitted to lounge under an awning that was set up for them on the broad deck. Hadji Bey had insisted they be heavily veiled and had forbidden them to wander about lest the sight of them arouse the galley slaves, many of whom were European captives.

  The ship traveled swiftly through the pleasant waters and charming islands of the Aegean, and Hadji Bey pointed out several sites of historical interest that Cyra found much more engrossing than the agricultural islands shown her by Captain Venutti. There were Naxos, where Theseus had left Ariadne; Chios, reputed to be Homer’s birthplace; and Lesbos, home of the poetess Sappho, which had been the center of civilization in the seventh century before Christ

  They slipped through the Dardanelles, which had in ancient times been called the Hellespont Forty miles long and one to four miles wide, the strait was lined with the watchtowers of the Ottoman army and was essential to the defense of Constantinople. The towers were used as advance wanting posts should anyone attempt to attack the capital by sea. Shortly, the Dardanelles gave way to the Sea of Marmara. Their journey was almost over.

  The night before they reached their destination, Hadji Bey called them to his vast cabin in the stern of the ship. Entering, they noticed he had placed his fierce mute guards at the door. He motioned the girls to pillows set about a round table, and after allowing a slave to place refreshments on it and depart, he sat down beside his charges.

  “Now, my lovely children, I have a matter of vast importance to discuss with you. As you already know, I am the agha kislar, the head of Sultan Bajazet’s black eunuchs. In this capacity I am a man of vast power. I have chosen to use this power to right a terrible wrong, and I will need your help to do it

  “Many years ago, my master took as his first wife, or kadin as we say, a beautiful Circassian girl called Kiusem. After a year she bore him a fine, healthy son, who was named Mustafa. However, while she carried her child, the sultan’s attention wandered, and he took a second kadin, a Syrian girl named Besma. Eighteen months after Kiusem’s son was born, Besma also gave birth to a son, Prince Ahmed.

  “Several months after the birth of her son, Besma invited the two-year-old heir, Prince Mustafa, to visit his baby brother. Although Kiusem was wary, she allowed him to go. The child returned after several hours full of happy chatter and with a fistful of sweetmeats, which he offered to his mother. She accepted one to please him. Shortly afterward, the little prince became violently ill, and the lady Kiusem, too, though less so. The physician diagnosed poison. Prince Mustafa died at dawn, but his mother recovered.

  “Tearfully, Kiusem accused Besma of the foul deed, but the sultan, who was then only Prince Bajazet refused to condemn the mother of an imperial heir. Kiusem’s heart was crushed, and try as Bajazet might he could not cheer her. She grew peaked and wan, and finally he left her in peace.

  “Now allow me to deviate from my story a moment to tell you why I am so loyal to the lady Kiusem. When I came to the harem, I was a frightened child. Kiusem, who was then but a child herself, cared for me and saw that I got the proper training so that I might advance myself. When she became the sultan’s first wife, or bas-kadin, I was made her head eunuch. When Prince Mustafa was born, the sultan honored her by giving me the post of agha kislar, replacing the old agha, who had just died.

  “I loved the lady Kiusem, not as a man, for I am not a man, but as a dear and good friend. Secretly I nursed her back to health, not only in body but in mind, too. It took many months, for her grief was great.

  “Then one day she came to me privately and asked this question: “If I bore the sultan another son, Hadji Bey, would you help me gain the throne for him?’ What makes you think the sultan will take you again to his bed?’ I countered. ‘He has made my twin sister, Refet, his new favorite,’ she replied. ‘I think he still yearns for me.’ So I agreed to help Kiusem, and when the sultan next held a reception for his women, she appeared before him for the first time in over a year.

  “She was dazzlingly beautiful that evening, and Bajazet, once again under her spell, sent for her that very night Nine months later, she bore him a second son, named Selim.” Hadji Bey paused to help himself to a sherbet Refreshing himself, he continued

  “Kiusem was clever, for during the months she carried Selim in her womb and could not go to her lord, her sister, Refet went in her place. Besma was furious, for as fascinated by Kiusem as the sultan was, he was equally fascinated by Refet In addition, Besma was very much out of favor because the sultan’s third kadin, Safiye, had given birth to a son two years after Ahmed was born, while Besma, unfortunately, had given birth to a stillborn son.

  “After Selim’s birth, great precautions were taken to protect him so he might grow to manhood Kiusem, pretending the birth of Selim so soon after the tragic death of Mustafa had addled her wits slightly, withdrew again from court life. She lived and dressed simply, as did Selim. Before all but a few trusted friends she appeared half-mad, and, because of this, the sultan out of his great love for her permitted her a great measure of freedom.

  “Now I must explain that in our country all male heirs of a sultan are taken from their mothers at age six and given their own courts. Under these conditions Kiusem could not be sure that Selim would be safe, so, using her illness as an excuse, she managed to keep him with her until he was fourteen. At that time my master had become sultan, and Selim was sent to the city of Magnesia to learn the art of government Prior to that he had been educated by the finest scholars our empire had to offer.

  “Last year my lady became ill, and the physicians were forced to tell the sultan she would not recover. Before she died she gained Bajazet’s promise to return Selim from Magnesia and give him a province nearer to Constantinople to govern. She suggested he go to the Moonlight Serai, which had been a gift to her from the sultan, and that to show his love of Selim, the sultan declare this on the prince’s twenty-fifth birthday, which is in four months.

  “At that time the sultan will celebrate his son’s birthday with much pomp and ceremony. Kiusem’s dying wish was that Prince Selim be given his choice of six maidens from his father’s harem as a gift Before she died, my lady instructed me to find three special maidens with both beauty and intelligence to help him toward his goal as his father’s heir replacing Prince Ahmed.

  “I have picked you three to fill this role. Prince Selim is a gentle, handsome young man of great charm and learning. You should be very happy with him. One day he will be sultan, and the women who are his kadins, the mothers of his sons, will hold positions of great power and wealth.”

  “You take your life in your hands, do you not Hadji Bey? What if we do not wish to go along with your plans? We could betray you and gain our freedom,” said Cyra.

  “I rely on your intelligence, my dears. I do not think you will choose death over power and riches, for if you betrayed me, death would be your only freedom. If the freedom of death intrigues you, throw yourself from the ship’s rail and be done with it; but do not I beg you, interfere with my plans. Your fate, or kismet as we say, has brought you to me. How you accept your allotted portion is up to you. If you are as wise as I believe you to be, I already know your answers.”

  Again Cyra questioned him. “How can you keep us hidden from the sultan? If he should see us and favor us, we would be lost to the prince.”

  The eunuch smiled. “The seraglio is not as many outsiders think, a place of unchecked lust and depravity. It is a well-ordered household, guided by rules, regulations, and many customs.

  “The women of the house fall into several categories. Some are simple servants. Some are attendants on the sultan, or in the baths, or for his women. The maidens who make up the harem are also ranked according to their status. The majority are called gediklis, the privileged ones. Next are the guzdehs, girls who have caught Bajazet’s eye but have not yet gone to his bed. Then come ikbals, those girls who have been to the sultan’s couch and managed to keep his favor. Finally we have the kadins, who have given the sultan a son or sons. A sultan may have only
four kadins, with the bas-kadin—the mother of the heir—being highest-ranked. Though Besma’s son is the heir, the sultan never took the rank of bas-kadin away from Lady Kiusem.

  “The highest positions in the harem are those of the sultan’s daughters and the sultan valideh, who is the sultan’s mother. Our sultan has no mother living, so we have no valideh at present. This is the highest position to which a woman in the Ottoman household can climb. Her word is law in the palace and among the women of our empire. Only the sultan himself can countermand her orders, and many times he does not dare.

  “Guzdehs, ikbals, and kadins have their own apartments and attendants to wait upon them, but the gediklis live in dormitorylike odas, each of which is presided over by an older woman. It is the duty of this woman to train her girls in our ways and develop their individual talents.

  “I am placing you in a small, unobtrusive oda. Its mistress is the lady Refet”

  “The sultan’s favorite?”

  “She is no longer a favorite, Firousi. She never became a kadin, having had the misfortune to bear Bajazet twin daughters. They are now grown and married to government officials. Rather than retire to the Pavilion of Older Damsels, she became mistress of an oda. It is not a particularly distinguished one, for since Kiusem’s death, Besma has regained some of her power over the sultan. You will, however, be safe there, and out of Bajazet’s way if you obey me and the lady Refet She is a kind woman and has been apprised of our plans since the beginning.

  “The next four months will be a period of intensive study for you. Not only must you learn our language in that time, but you must learn our customs, some of our music, our dances, and, most important of all, the physical ways to please your master. It will not be easy for you, but I believe you are each extraordinary in your own special way. I know you can do it

  “Will you help me, Cyra!” She nodded.

  “Firousi?”

  “Yes, Hadji Bey.”