Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

Bedazzled (11 page)

BOOK: Bedazzled

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“I have listened to you carefully, my beauty, now you must listen to me. I do not have the right to make any decision regarding your fate. You, this ship, and everything on it, men and cargo alike, now belong to the dey of El Sinut, who rules in the sultan’s name here. It is he who will make the decision concerning your fate. It is my job to bring you all safely into the harbor of El Sinut, and with Allah’s help, guidance, and blessing, I will.” He arose. “Now, I will bid you good night. You need have no fears, my beauty. You are quite safe.”

“My cousin?” she asked.

“I will allow him to come and see you in the morning,” the agha told her. Then, with a bow, he departed the cabin, locking it behind him.

India paced the room. This was impossible.
And none of it would have happened if you had heeded your parents
, a little voice in her head said. “God’s nightshirt!” she swore, but the little voice was right, and she knew it. If she had listened to her family instead of allowing her foolish heart to rule her, she would be safe at home in Scotland, and not the captive of Barbary pirates. Her family wouldn’t force her to marry someone she didn’t really love. They could try, but in the end she would have gotten her way if she had just been a bit more patient, India decided. And as much as she loved Adrian, he had been wrong to cajole her into the elopement. Just look what had happened to them!

And
he
would more than likely be ransomed, but everyone seemed to be very sure that she wouldn’t be. There was a stigma attached to a girl finding herself in this position. Still, her great-grandmother, and her grandmother, as well as her aunt Valentina, had found themselves in similar situations and come home to lead respectable lives. But that had been years ago. Times were different then, and people certainly more reasonable and open-minded. Now, if it were known that Lady India Lindley had been captured by Barbary pirates, it would cause a scandal of great proportions, and no decent man would offer for her. And if Adrian was sent home ahead of her, and she later returned, why even he wouldn’t wed her! “God’s boots!” India muttered. What a headstrong damned little fool she had been!

What in the name of heaven was she going to do? How could she save herself? Could she convince this dey to ransom her along with Adrian? It seemed her only option. The only other course open to her was to kill herself, and India knew she didn’t have the courage to do that. Besides, if the truth were known, she didn’t want to die anyway. But what if this dey fellow decided to keep her? India smiled grimly. She would be the most difficult, the most impossible, the most awful creature he had ever known; and he would certainly send her home, having concluded that a ransom was a better bargain than an uncooperative and raging girl. She was not about to be any man’s slave! It was a totally unacceptable concept. She would not tolerate it!

She curled back into the window seat. The sky was dark now, and there was a thin new crescent of a moon reflecting itself delicately into the black sea. Around it, the stars were bright. Was her sister looking at that same moon? Fortune, who was so accepting of their parents’ decision to find her a husband in Ireland, so content to settle herself at MacGuire’s Ford, and be mistress of her own lands.
How much easier it would have been for all of us
, India thought,
if I had been more like Fortune
. Yet her sister could certainly not be called docile. Fortune was anything but meek and mild; but she was of a far more practical bent of mind than her elder sibling.

How long will it be before I see my sister and brothers again; and our parents too
, India wondered. “Damn it, I miss them!” she half whispered to the empty cabin. “I have been so foolish. I will certainly never be this foolish again.” She sighed, and continued looking out upon the sea, watching the wake of their vessel, just faintly silvered, as the
Royal Charles
sailed inexorably on toward El Sinut.

Part II

EL SINUT, 1626–1628

Chapter
6

“
W
ould you like to come on deck as we enter the harbor?” Aruj Agha asked India on the morning they arrived in El Sinut. “Do you have a long, enveloping cape, my beauty?”

“I have two. The black wool with the fur lining I wore aboard in England, and a turquoise blue silk with a cream brocade lining,” India told him. “That one has a hood.”

“And is more suitable to our climate,” Aruj Agha said. “But I will need something to veil your features from public view as well.”

India rifled through her trunks, finally pulling forth a large, lace-edged handkerchief which she held up. “Will this do? And why does my face have to be hidden? Are you afraid someone will recognize me, and you will be forced to let me go?”

“No,” he said with a smile. She was a persistent wench, he thought. “In our society respectable women cover both their hair and their faces from public scrutiny. Such delicate discretion allows a woman a greater measure of freedom without being accosted by bold men in the streets. Women who allow themselves to be seen are obviously women of low repute attempting to sell their favors.” He helped her on with her long cape. “If you wish to appear in public in El Sinut, or anywhere else in the sultan’s domain, you must be cloaked and veiled.” He drew her hood up over her head. “We must affix the veil. Do you have any small pins?”

“In my jewel case,” India said. “Will my jewelry be taken from me, Aruj Agha? It was all given to me by members of my family.”

“I will intercede with the dey for you,” he said, “but it is his decision, my beauty. You must understand that.” He carefully pinned the white cloth across India’s beautiful face, concealing everything but her golden eyes and dark brows. Standing back, he appeared satisfied. “Now we are ready,” he told her with a broad smile. “I do believe that I could have a career as a lady’s tiring woman, my beauty.”

India giggled in spite of herself, and allowed him to lead her out onto the deck. The air was hot and dry. Ahead of them the great galley, its striped sails blowing gently in the slight breeze, rowed into an enclosed harbor, drawing its prey behind it. The harbor entrance was flanked by two square-towered lighthouses.

“They mark the ingress,” Aruj Agha told her, “and are also responsible for the great chain that for now rests beneath the surface of the waters, but in emergencies can be raised to block entry to the port.”

“They have a similar device across the Golden Horn in Istanbul,” Tom Southwood remarked, looking about the anchorage carefully. There were at least three more big galleys, as well as galleots, brigantines, frigates, and small fellucas which could accommodate only three to five benches with one oarsman each, as opposed to the galley that had taken them in tow, and had twenty-eight benches with two oars for each bench, and four to five men on each oar. This was a busy and formidable anchorage. It would not, he now realized, be as simple as he had thought to take back the
Royal Charles
and escape, but as an honorable man, he had no choice but to eventually try.

India wasn’t in the least interested in the harbor, its vessels, or its operations. It was this place, El Sinut, that fascinated her. It was a city like none she had ever before seen. The buildings were all white, and the hot midmorning sun glaring off them was almost blinding. They were not all of one height and most seemed to be terraced, each succeeding story set just slightly back of the one below. In what appeared to be the center of the city was a large building, the dome of which was overlaid in gold leaf, and glittered brightly.

“Is that your dey’s palace?” India asked Aruj Agha.

“No,” he told her, “that is the grande mosque of El Sinut.”

“What is a mosque?” she inquired.

“It is what we call our holy place, like your churches,” he explained to her. “Do you see the four towers surrounding the dome? They are called minarets. Six times each day the imans, our priests, ascend the minarets, and call the people to prayer.”

“You pray six times each day?” India said, incredulous.

“We are devout people,” he replied.

“What is going to happen now, Aruj Agha?” India questioned him as their ship was made fast to a dock.

“Why, we will go up to the dey’s palace. It is there.” He pointed.

Following the direction of his finger, India saw a large cluster of buildings on a low hill just below the grande mosque. They were as faceless and anonymous as all the other buildings in the city.

“A litter will be brought for you,” he said, answering what was obviously to be her next question.

“And the others?” she wondered aloud. “My cousin? Viscount Twyford? Will they go, too?”

“They will walk behind us, my beauty,” he responded. “I must now see to the arrangement,” he told her. “I will leave you in the company of your cousin.” Aruj Agha moved away from them, all business now.

“I am afraid,” India suddenly said, looking up at Tom Southwood.

“You must show no fear,” he warned her. “Especially among the women of the harem. You have to understand that these women are all vying for the attention of a single man, and hate each other. They will do whatever they have to do to destroy a potential rival.”

“I think I should rather be at an oar,” she told him with a small chuckle, as she attempted to calm herself.

“There is one thing I must insist you do, India,” he said. “Under no circumstances say you were eloping with Viscount Twyford. If there is the slightest suspicion that you are no virgin, you could end up being sold in the common slave market, and find yourself in a brothel. You will be safest in the dey’s household.”

“But what if he gives me to someone else?” India fretted.

“You are still securest in the harem of a wealthy man than in a whorehouse, Cousin,
and
I will be able to find you more easily.”

“But poor Adrian,” India said piteously. “He will think I have betrayed him, and it will break his heart! I cannot do it, Tom!”

“Adrian will certainly understand that your safety is our main concern,” Thomas Southwood told her. “It should be his concern, too, if he truly loves you. Please, India, promise me you will follow my instructions. Eventually I will get us all out of this situation, but you have to trust me, and do as I tell you.”

At that moment, Aruj Agha joined them once again. “Bid your cousin farewell, Captain. You realize you will not be able to speak with her again. Quickly! We are ready to depart for the dey’s palace.”

Tom Southwood hugged India, whispering urgently into her ear as he did so, “Promise me!”

“I’ll try,” she whispered back, hugging him.

“Come,” the janisarry captain said, taking India by the arm and leading her from the deck, down the gangway, and onto the first solid ground she had touched in weeks. She swayed just slightly as she regained her land legs, as the agha called them, helping her into a curtained litter. “Do not remove your veil, my beauty, or attempt to open the curtains once they are drawn,” he said sternly.

“It is difficult to breathe,” she complained nervously. Where was he taking her? What was going to happen to the others? And Adrian? She had not seen him in several days. Was he all right?

“Lie back against the pillows,” he advised her in a kinder tone, seeing her obvious distress, although she made a valiant attempt not to show that she was frightened. “You will find a small embroidered pouch tucked along one side of the litter. In it is a vial of water to assuage your thirst should you need it You will find you can see through the curtains, although no one will be able to get close enough to you to invade your privacy. The town is pretty, and you will enjoy the ride to the dey’s palace. It is not a great distance, my beauty.” He gave her a small smile, then he drew the litter’s curtains closed.

And he had not lied to her, India quickly discovered. She
could
see out!

Aruj Agha was dressed very handsomely this morning, she mused. He wore red silk pantaloons, a green-and-gold-striped shirt with a matching sash about his waist, and a handsome green silk cape lined in red. There was a curved sword hanging from his sash. His boots were of red leather, and upon his head was a small turban with a pearl pendant A rather handsome chestnut gelding was brought forth, and he mounted it easily, observing and directing the unloading of the
Royal Charles
from his perch.

The cargo was packed into mule-drawn carts and put into line behind the agha. India’s litter was then moved behind the cargo. Suddenly she saw the English crew coming down the gangway of the corsair galley. They were shackled by their legs, and around the neck of each man was an iron collar from which a chain was fastened to the man before him in the line of prisoners. Only Captain Thomas Southwood was permitted to walk free, ahead of his men, having given his word of honor not to attempt an escape along their route. India’s eyes anxiously scanned the shackled men, desperately seeking out Adrian Leigh. She gasped, horrified, to see him first in the line, next to Knox, pale, and treated no better than the common sailors. How could they!

Before she might voice her protest to Aruj Agha, her litter was lifted up by four of the janissaries who had come off the galley. The procession moved off the docks, and onto the narrow, winding streets of the city. Realizing that there was nothing she could do to help Adrian, India took the agha’s advice and lay back amid the brightly colored silk pillows in the litter. She could see that the white walls of the buildings were devoid of windows on the street level. Some of the structures had lattice-covered windows on the upper levels, but most did not. Looking into the courtyard entrances she saw tubs and ceramic jars of flowers in a riotous profusion of shapes, sizes, and colors. Sometimes she saw a bubbling fountain. The streets were amazingly clean, and the populace appeared very orderly, going about their daily business without much ado. India quickly realized that the veiled figures were females, but there were actually very few of them. They passed through a large, open market square. There were stalls set up selling all kinds of produce and flowers; meat, poultry, and fish; household goods; fabrics; leather goods; song birds in wooden cages, and live animals. Then she shuddered seeing a block upon which slaves were even now being auctioned off. The people in the market jeered at the captive seamen, but made no other hostile move toward them.

The street they entered on the other side of the market square was slightly steeper, and gently terraced with wide stairs. The houses along it were larger, obviously belonging to a more affluent class of citizen. The street itself began to widen as they moved up it. India could see the dome of the grande mosque, and realized if the dey’s palace were just below it, they must be getting closer. The procession entered another square; this one empty of people. There were no buildings on either side of the square; it was walled, and above it was nothing more than cloudless blue sky. The square was paved in blocks of cream and red marble. Ahead of them stood the dey’s white marble palace.

They passed beneath a deep, wide entry arch into an open courtyard. Armed guards lined the entry and the courtyard. Their procession moved through another wide archway flanked with heavy wooden doors entering into another courtyard, this one planted, with a tiled fountain in its center. India’s litter was set carefully down, and a moment later Aruj Agha opened the curtains and offered her his hand, helping her out. He looked at her a moment, and then nodded as if satisfied.

“You will follow me, my beauty. Do not speak unless the dey gives you his permission to do so. If he questions you, you may answer him. Now, let us go. The time of the dey’s audience is almost over.”

India looked quickly about her, but her cousin and the other English captives had been already taken away . . . but to where? She couldn’t be afraid. She must not be. She genuinely believed her life depended upon her being strong, and so she followed quickly after the janisarry captain. He led her down a wide corridor, and finally into a large, pillared room with an opaque dome through which sunlight filtered softly. The room was crowded, and hot, but she shivered nonetheless. Seated cross-legged on a pillowed dais at the far end of the room from the entry was a man garbed all in white but for a cloth-of-gold sash about his waist. His broad pantaloons were white with wide embroidered bands of gold and pearls, and, most extraordinary, his feet were bare. He wore an open-necked white silk shirt, and she could see a heavy gold chain with a pendant upon his smooth bronze chest. A white satin cape lined in cloth-of-gold was fastened about his neck with a thin gold chain. On his head was a small, low turban, from whose front and center wrapping sprouted an aigrette feather set in a perfectly round diamond.

“Aruj Agha, my lord,” the large black slave who was the doorkeeper boomed in stentorian tones.

“Stay here,” the janissary commanded her. “When I call you, you may come forward, my beauty.” The he hurried up to the foot of the dais, and, falling to his knees, kissed the dey’s foot.

“Arise, Aruj Agha. You have returned sooner than I expected. You have had good hunting then, I assume?”

“Indeed, my lord Caynan Reis, I have.” The agha scrambled to his feet once again, bowing as he did so.

BOOK: Bedazzled

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