Harem, page 20
So how could he help her, even now? 'You must simply do everything he says. If it is your first time, it may hurt a little, but the depilatory hurts more, so they tell me. Be agreeable and try at all costs to please him. You know what to do when I leave you alone with him?'
'The Kiaya has told me many times. I remembered it exactly the first time.'
'I am sure you did.'
'Why did he choose me?'
'Because you are the most beautiful woman in the world,' he heard himself say, and thought he had given himself away and, mortified, he kept his silence afterwards. The carriage drove through the gates of the Sublime Porte.
***
Suleiman lay on the bed in a simple white robe. His turban, though, was magnificent, the plume of a white egret fastened to it with a cluster of white diamonds and rubies. The room was fragrant with the frankincense burning in the brass censers that hung from the ceiling.
Abbas touched his head to the carpet three times. 'Great Lord.'
'Kislar Aghasi,' Suleiman said, as was the protocol, 'I have mislaid my handkerchief. Do you know who has it?'
'Yes my Lord. I will have her bring it to you.'
Abbas raised his great bulk from the floor and took long enough about it. Suleiman sensed there was something amiss with his Chief Black Eunuch. He was sweating heavily though it was not a hot night and his eyes had a frozen look about them. He had seen that look sometimes after a battle in men who had endured too much. He hoped the Kislar Aghasi was not sickening, he would be a hard man to replace.
Abbas went to the door and ushered in a small, cloaked figure. He removed her ferijde and whispered something to her. He pushed her forward and then hovered anxiously by the door.
'Go,' Suleiman said to him.
The door shut softly and they were alone.
The girl took out the handkerchief he had placed across her shoulder that morning, fell to her knees and crawled on all fours to the bed. She lifted the coverlet, raised it to her forehead and to her lips, and crept up the bed, exactly as the Kiaya of the Baths had told her to do.
Suleiman closed his eyes and wished with all his soul that he were with Hürrem.
Chapter 48
Suleiman rose naked from the bed, staring accusingly at the girl who lay curled on her side beside him. The candlelight cast long shadows over the hills and valleys of her body. She was … perfect. Too perfect perhaps, that was the trouble.
He threw on a silk robe and went to the open window. A yellow moon sat fat and low over the Asian shore. A witching moon.
She was beautiful, this Venetian. Her body was like satin to the touch, a paradise for the eyes, yet he had been unable to raise any passion for her. He had no appetite tonight at all. I might as well have been … Abbas!
Something … someone … has made a eunuch of the Sultan of the Osmanlis! Fear and rage and confusion tumbled over inside him. This had never happened to him before, and it could never be allowed to happen again. The girl watched him from the bed, doe-eyed. Could it really be that she did not know what was wrong? She had not uttered a word the whole time. Perhaps what Abbas said was right, she was stupid as an ox, and could not speak a word of Turkish anyway.
But one day she would learn, if she stayed long enough. And what would she say about him then, when the other Harem girls what it was like to lie with the Sultan?
The trouble was, she was not like his Hürrem. She had no tricks, there were no soft moans and feathery touches to encourage him. She had just laid there, and offered him her beauty, as if that was a precious currency in his Harem.
He wondered if any woman could stir him again now after Hürrem. What if it was witchery? Better to be mesmerized by Hürrem than humiliated by a Gaiour.
He could not let this get out, could not let her giggle to her fellow odalisques that the Lord of Life and the Possessor of Men's Necks had been unable to bull her.
He went to the door and threw it open. 'Kislar Aghasi!' The halbediers standing guard at the door jerked with fright. 'Where is the Chief Black Eunuch?' he shouted at them. One of them ran off to find him.
Suleiman slammed the door behind him and went back to the bed. He picked up the girl's clothes and flung them at her. 'Get dressed!'
A few moments later Abbas appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide with fright. Suleiman pointed to the Italian. 'Get her out of here!'
'She does not please you, my Lord?'
'GET HER OUT!' He grabbed Julia's arm - she had on only her harem pants and a silk chemise - and dragged her across the carpets and hurled her through the door. Then he snatched a yataghan from one of the halbedier's belts and went back inside, slamming the door behind him. He held the point of the blade to the Kislar Aghasi's chin. A thin trickle of blood oozed and ran down his neck.
'She is to speak to no one when she leaves here. No one, do you understand? And if she is alive tomorrow morning your head will be feeding the crows on the Gate of Felicity. Do you understand me?'
Abbas could not speak. He nodded.
'Now get out!'
***
Abbas stumbled through the cloisters of the Topkapi Saraya, a sealed parchment clutched in his hand. He found the Aga of the Messengers, whispered his instructions and slipped something into his palm as added incentive to complete the task quickly. He had to get this message across the Bosphorus to Ludovici now. Immediately. Did he understand?
Yes, Kislar Aghasi.
Julia was locked up in a cell below the Ortakapi. It was nearly midnight which meant that by the time Ludovici received the missive he would have less than five hours to make his preparations. It might not be enough time.
I will defy him, Abbas thought, defy the Sultan. What will they do to me for that? But if I do not arrange her execution she will die anyway, they will give some other slave the job and he will make sure it is done promptly and well. This is her best chance, her only chance.
'Julia,' he muttered as he ran back to the palace, 'Julia, what have you done?'
Chapter 49
Just before dawn Abbas led Julia through the gate at the Bosphorus wall, and down the stone steps to the water's edge. Something made him look up. He saw a flock of white birds that the Stamboulis called the Damned Souls wheeling in the sky above them. The strange thing about these birds was that they never made any sound; even the beat of their wings was silent. No one ever saw them roosting or feeding; they just seemed to drift over the black waters night and day. It was said they contained the souls of the houris who had been drowned in the waters below.
This was the traditional way for a Sultan to be rid of his brother's wives when he assumed the throne, or to punish a girl who had somehow found a way to get pregnant by one of the white eunuchs. The mud at the bottom of the harbor must be thick with the whitening bones of former wives and odalisques.
Now you, Julia.
She had been crying all night and the kohl had run down her cheeks, making her look like a djinn. Her braids hung in a tangle round her face. She wore only her chemise and harem pants and she hugged her arms to her chest, shivering in the cold of the morning. He could see the gooseflesh on her.
'Where are we going?' she asked him.
He had two of the bostanji-bashi's men with him, they were there to report that the job had been done correctly. He intended to give them no cause for doubts. 'You will not be returning to the Eski Saraya,' he said. He took her arm and pulled her down the bank to the waiting caïque.
'What's happening?'
'Just do as you are told.'
He slung her into the boat. She looked down then and saw the sack. She must have realized by now, Abbas thought. He took a silver cord from the folds of his pelisse and tied her hands behind her.
'Please, no,' she whispered.
He put her feet in the sack and tugged it up around her hips. There was a pile of smooth stones in the stern and he placed them in the bottom of the sack. Then he lifted it over her head and knotted it with rope.
He threw her on her back. 'Don't struggle until you hit the water,' he whispered to her in Italian. 'It will be all right. Trust me.'
Then he stepped out of the caïque and joined the two bostanji in the other boat.
***
They rowed past the promontory of Seraglio Point and the sombre sea walls of the palace, towing the caïque to a spot roughly midway between the peninsula and the Asian side. It was still dark but he knew dawn could not be far off. They had to do this now. Mist swirled over the water.
The bostanji decked their oars and they drifted with the current. Abbas looked at the tiny boat drifting behind them, illuminated by the lantern at the stern. The shapeless bundle was still struggling in the sack so that the boat rocked gently in the water.
'Take the lines,' Abbas said. The bostanji picked up the two ropes that trailed over the stern and twisted them, so that the caïque began to roll and then take water. Finally it listed to starboard and capsized. There was a splash as the sack tumbled into the water; a rash of bubbles floated on the surface and then was gone.
The bostanji cut the ropes. Abbas sat slumped in the bow and let the two assassins row him back to Seraglio Point. Then they heard a splash behind them. The bostanji looked over their shoulders.
'A fishing boat,' he said to them.
'They're out early in the fog.'
'You want to go back?' he said to them casually and held his breath.
Then they heard nets going into the water. It was too misty anyway, he could see them thinking, they risked a collision. And besides, what was the point now? They shrugged and kept rowing. The morning kept her secrets.
***
Julia gasped as she hit the water, the stones in the sack dragging her feet first to the bottom. She knew it was pointless to struggle; she had resolved to suck in the water straight away, get it over with quickly; but as soon as she felt the caïque capsize she had instinctively breathed in a lungful of air and held it. She struggled with the ropes behind her back, and to her astonishment, they fell away.
She fell fast through the water and it felt as if someone had pierced her ears with two hot needles. She tried not to scream against the pain and lose her last breath of air. She tore at the sack and the ropes that the Kislar Aghasi had tied around it fell away.
She struck out blindly, that one last breath of air carrying her up, as her chest pumped in agony. As she broke the surface she tried to take another breath but her mouth and nose was full of water and she started to choke. She paddled furiously at the water but felt herself going under. Then a hand reached out for her but she was too exhausted to keep herself afloat any longer and everything went black.
Chapter 50
The carumasali glided silently through the water. Abbas had told him in the letter to look for his riding lights in the darkness and hope for the best. There would be no other boats trying to navigate Seraglio Point at that time of night.
The mist that clung to the water had made it both easier and harder; harder to for him to see them, but easier because they could not see him. They did not even dare breathe, every small sound carried over the flat water as if they were in a church.
Only the creak of timber and lines.
Then he saw it, a light blinking close by, and the helmsman pulled the tiller hard over. They could not come too close, not until they knew she was in the water.
He didn't care about the woman, for Gods sake, he hardly knew her. But he knew what this meant to Abbas. It was his hope of redemption. And in some strange way it was his hope also.
They all heard the splash, and for a moment he saw the caïque silhouetted against the mist, and then she was gone. The assassins dropped their oards in the water.
He heard Abbas say something to the men with him.
Then she came up, right beside them, gasping. At that moment the helmsman lit a lantern and shouted a command to his fellow, who hoisted the nets over the other side, making as much noise as he could about it. Abbas knelt down and reached out a hand for her, and dragged her to the side. The sailor let go of the nets and ran over to help him pull her onboard.
She lay there, blue and still. He thought she was dead and started to shake her only thing he could think of do. She vomited water on the deck.
Her face was a mess of kohl and paint. She looked pitiful, but at least she was breathing. She was cold and he wrapped her in a blanket. Hardly anything to stir a man to risk his entire life, he thought. Just a small thin girl, ringing wet. He held her to warm her up and wondered if she would still be alive when they made the shore.
Chapter 51
A fresh breeze ruffled the Bosphorus, the cries of the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer. The tower of the Divan rose through the mist, sunlight glinting off the spire. A beautiful morning to die.
Did I do enough? He wondered. What if the knot I tied on the sack was too tight, what if she did not get out in time? What if Ludovici did not find her in the fog?
A messenger arrived and placed a scroll in his hands. He broke the seal and read it through quickly. It was from Ludovici. The goods had arrived safely and were in good order. He would put them in the warehouse until ready to ship on
He swayed on his feet, put a hand out to steady himself against the sill.
'Is the Kislar Aghasi unwell?' one the pages asked him.
Abbas nodded. 'The Kislar Aghasi is quite well,' he said and took the letter to the fire and burned it.
***
The Valide was restless and could not sleep. She roamed her apartments picking up vases and studying them, running her hands over the ceramics and the silks of the divans, as if trying to imprint each on her memory, so that she might remember it.
I can hardly remember a time when I was not here, she thought. I cannot even recall the day they came for me.
She went out to the terrace. It was cool, and there was a yellow stain to the sky over the Asian side. The sun would rise soon. I wonder if I will see it set, she thought.
'Are you all right, Crown of Veiled Heads,' one of her maid servants asked her.
'I have to go away for a while,' she said. She felt suddenly light headed. The strength went out of her and she wondered if any of it had been really worth all the trouble. No one will remember me when I am gone. At least I have given the Osmanlis a fine Sultan.
The room began to spin and she staggered. She heard her gediçli scream as she toppled to the floor. Oh this won't do, she thought. There's no dignity in this.
***
She had been propped up on pillows, while her servants hovered. Look at her, like a dried out husk. She was lost all in the bedclothes. No one ever looked so old as when they were dying. There was no artifice to support her now. Her gediçli had applied kohl to her eyes and put a little taplock on her head but it had only made her look even more ghastly. The Kislar Aghasi was there. He looked terrified, as well he might.
'Is she dying?' she asked him.
' My Lady, she cannot move or talk. She sleeps most of the time. Who knows when Almighty God will call her home?'
'She cannot talk?'
He shook his head.
'She he has no way of communicating with us?'
'We put a pen in her hand but she is unable to use it. The fingers on her left hand twitch a little, that is all. '
'Can she understand what is said to her?'
'I don't know. It appears so. She slips in and out of this world.'
Hürrem smiled. 'You see how quickly the world turns, Kislar Aghasi. Just the other night you were ready to defy me.'
'I should never defy you My Lady.'
'No, you never should. It would be unwise. In future mind your manners better. Your life is in my hands now.'
'Of course.'
'Where is the Sultan?'
'He has just left. He is most distressed.'
Hürrem went to the bed. 'You are sure she cannot speak? I would like to say goodbye to her.'
'She has had an apoplexy. It has taken away all her powers.'
Hürrem stared at the old lady. 'I want everyone out of the room,' she said to Abbas.
'My lady?'
He thinks I am going to put a pillow over her head, he thought. Look at her. I don't need to.
'The law says that the Kislar Aghasi and her gediçli should stay with her at all times.'
'Kislar Aghasi, do you remember what I just said to you?'
He rapped out a short command to the maidservants and ushered them out of the door. He hesitated.
'You too, Kislar Aghasi.'
He went out, no doubt praying that the Valide was still alive when he came back in.
***
Hürrem bent over the bed. 'They tell me you cannot speak,' she said to her. Saliva had pooled on her cheek and against the pillow, but her eyes were bright. 'That's it, open your eyes. Look at me. It's me, Hürrem.'
Yes, she understands me well enough, Hürrem thought.
'I am going to tell you a secret.' She moved closer so that her lips were close to the old woman's ear. 'Mustapha will never be Sultan. I promise you. Do you remember the time he fell ill and no one ever knew who poisoned him? I will tell you who did that. It was me. I found a way then and I shall do it again but next time I shall not fail. I am going to be the next Valide. And when I am I shall destroy your son and even in Paradise you will not find rest. What do you think of that?'
The old lady tried to move. Hürrem laughed at her. 'You didn't suspect. Perhaps you are not as clever as you thought you were. Kislar Aghasi!'
The Chief Black Eunuch rushed in. He must have been standing with his ear to the door. Never mind, he could not have heard her and would not dare say a word even if he had.
'What is wrong with her? I think she is having another seizure.'
