Evil in a Mask (23 page)

As he went down on his knees, Aimée curtsied to the Sultan and said in French, ‘Permit me, Sire, to present to you a
brave French officer, the friend and confidant of my cousin the Empress Josephine:
Colonel le Chevalier de Breuc
.'

Roger's hands were clasped, with his head bowed over them. To his ears there came the voice of Selim, speaking in heavily-accented and bad but understandable French. ‘Welcome to our Court, Monsieur. Rise and be seated. Here in this blessed haven from pomp, anxiety and toil, provided by our beloved
Naksh
, we do not stand on ceremony.'

Coming to his feet Roger smiled, bowed and said, ‘your gracious Majesty honours me beyond my deserts.'

Then Aimée waved a hand towards the younger man: ‘My son, Prince Mahmoud.'

Again Roger bowed. Smiling at him, the young Prince picked up a bottle of champagne, poured a glass, handed it to him, and said in fluent French almost entirely free of accent, ‘One of the many joys my mother has brought us. Because one believes in God, one does not have to deny oneself the blessings he has bestowed on man.'

Roger was surprised at the paleness of the faces of the two Turks, particularly that of the Sultan which, against his black beard, was actually pallid. But, after a moment he recalled having been told that customs forbade any Turkish Prince from ever taking a wife of Turkish blood. All the young girls bought or kidnapped to become inmates of the harem came from distant parts of the Empire with, occasionally, an Italian or Spaniard who, like Aimée, had been captured by Corsairs. The great majority of the odalisques from whom the Sultans chose their four wives were, on account of their outstanding beauty, fair-skinned Circassians. As a result, after many generations, the Osmanli Princes were in fact Turks only by upbringing.

For over an hour they talked freely and, at times, gaily; the lovely young Fatima often joining in as though she were one of the family. Roger gave a lively description of the splendid Court Napoleon had created since he had made himself an Emperor, and of the Kings, Princes and Grand Dukes who attended it to fawn upon him. He told them about the latest fashions in Paris, and gave an account of Napoleon's triumphant
Prussian campaign. But he refrained from telling them of his narrow escape from death at Eylau, and that for two months he had been a prisoner, leading them to suppose that it was during that time Josephine had heard that he was to accompany General Gardane's mission to Constantinople and sent him the candlesticks to take, as a token of her enduring affection for her cousin.

At the mention of Gardane, the Sultan said, ‘I intend to receive him on Wednesday. Tomorrow we make an expedition up the Bosphorus to Rumeli Hisar. You must come with us. Now I have to attend to business.'

As he stood up, Roger gave thanks for the honour done him and bowed profoundly. Aimée extended her hand for him to kiss and said, ‘Be here at nine o'clock, Monsieur; and, of course, in the same costume. I have already explained to His Majesty the reason for your wearing Balkan dress.'

Prince Mahmoud then smiled at him and asked, ‘Would it interest you to see my work?'

‘Indeed it would, Your Highness,' Roger replied, although he was distinctly puzzled by this invitation. As they followed the Sultan from the room, the young man enlightened him.

‘Perhaps, Monsieur, you are not aware of it, but by tradition every Osmanli Prince has to learn a trade. I chose that of a professional writer, and derive much pleasure from calligraphy.'

After crossing several courts, they reached the Prince's quarters, and he led Roger into a spacious, well-lit studio. It contained not only specimens of beautiful writing on vellum, but also a number of drawing boards several square feet in size, upon which verses from the Koran had been inscribed. With charming modesty, the Prince explained that the quality of his work had become so esteemed that he was now commissioned to create these designs which would later be carved in stone by other craftsmen, then gilded to decorate new mosques.

While Roger was admiring these works of art, coffee and sweet cakes were brought; then, when they had partaken of these refreshments, the Prince courteously saw his guest out
through the Gate of Felicity.

When Roger returned the following morning, he was led by the Kapi Aga through another maze of passages, then down through a garden gay with flowers, but shaded by many tall cypresses, to the great wall and a gate in it that gave on to the shore of the Golden Horn. Outside the wall stood two large, lofty pavilions from which there was a splendid view across the water of the shipping moored at the wharfs of Pera and the tiers of buildings rising steeply beyond the ship masts. Further along, towards Seraglio Point, were the boat-houses and, at the end of a jetty in front of one of them, lay a great, gilded barge. It was already manned by two score oarsmen.

Roger had made certain of arriving in good time, so a quarter of an hour elapsed while he stood on the foreshore. Then he heard a babble of laughing, girlish voices and turned to see that a bevy of veiled odalisques, escorted by black eunuchs, had emerged from the gate. Eyeing him with interest and chattering among themselves, the girls remained standing near him for a few minutes. Aimée—more heavily veiled than when Roger had seen her in her own apartments—accompanied by Fatima and Yussif, was the next to arrive on the scene. The chattering ceased, everyone made obeisance then, having greeted Roger most affably, Aimée led the way on board.

The stern of the caique was shaded by a great, silk canopy edged with gold braid and pearls. On a raised platform centrally beneath it stood a broad divan with many cushions. Grouped about it were a number of stools and on these the ladies settled themselves. To the stools there was one exception—a low-backed, comfortable, padded chair on the right of the divan. Aimée sat down in it and signed to Roger to take the stool nearest her.

He had hardly done so when the Sultan appeared, escorted by two huge Nubian guards. Today he was again clad in easy garments suitable to the summer weather, but he wore a jewelled belt from which hung a scimitar, the hilt and sheath of which were worth a king's ransom, and his turban was ablaze with precious gems.

His manner was now aloof and dignified. As he took his
seat on the broad divan, he did not even acknowledge the deep obeisance made by everyone present. At a sharp command from him the barge was cast off and the forty rowers sank their oars into the water. With long strokes in perfect rhythm, the boat sped along, rounded the curve of Pera and turned up the Bosphorus.

Now that they were too distant from the shore for their faces to be seen distinctly, Selim relaxed a little and said to Aimée, ‘your ladies may talk if they wish,' then greeted Roger kindly. Again the babble of girlish voices broke out, and one of the girls began to strum on a guitar.

When they had progressed another half-mile Roger asked Aimée about Rumeli Hisar, to which they were going, as he had never heard of it.

‘It is an ancient castle,' she replied. ‘There are two of them: one on either side of the Bosphorus where it is at its narrowest. Rumeli Hisar is the one in Europe and Anadolu Hisar in Asia. They were built to defend Constantinople from an attack by sea from the north. Although there is little danger of that in these days, garrisons are maintained in both. From time to time we make an expedition to one or the other, simply for the outing; and the views from the battlements are truly beautiful.'

When they were opposite the castle, Roger saw that it was a formidable fortress surrounded by a wall that ran down on both sides of it to the water.

Preparations had been made for the reception of the Imperial party. The Commander of the garrison, Evliyá Pasha, welcomed his sovereign with humble submission but evident pleasure. Scores of slaves then bore them all in litters up the steep hillside. Having admired the view from the battlements, they descended to the central courtyard. Awnings had been erected to shade it from the now blazing sun, and about it were set numerous divans with low tables.

Refreshments were then served; but no champagne today. Although Aimée had seduced the Osmanli Princes into sharing her enjoyment of her favourite wine, they still did not dare ignore the prohibition of the Koran in public. Instead,
there were refreshing sherbets and Hydromel—a honey-water, unfermented mead. With these were offered golden dishes of small, spiced buns, sweet cakes, rahat-lakoum, and a great variety of nuts and nougats. These proved to be the strange hors d'œuvres to a gargantuan meal: whole sturgeons on huge platters, lobsters first boiled in their shells, roast ducks coated with honey, peacock pies decorated with the heads and feathers of the birds, great dishes of venison crowned with antlers, pilaus, kebabs and ragouts; followed by a dozen different puddings, each a masterpiece of the chef's artistry in the use of icing, spun sugar and crystallised fruit.

When at last the feast was over, the Sultan withdrew to enjoy a siesta inside the castle, while the rest of them remained to chat idly or doze on the divans, through the heat of the afternoon. On Selim's reappearance, everyone livened up. A dozen of the veiled odalisques swayed gracefully in an intricate dance, then others performed solo or in groups on instruments they had brought.

Roger looked on with mingled boredom and interest. The music meant nothing to him, but he found it intriguing to watch the women. Except for Aimée and Fatima, every one of them was straining her talent to the utmost, and by sinuous movements endeavouring to attract Selim's attention, in the hope that he might throw her the coveted handkerchief as the sign that he would summon her to his bed that night.

But the Sultan remained impassive, and Roger had the instinctive feeling that all this apparently light-hearted gaiety was forced. A secret fear seemed to lurk beneath the laughter and a foreboding of dark days to come. His belief that trouble was brewing and that they were all aware of it was strengthened when, long before sundown, Selim abruptly ended the party and ordered a return to the barge.

Silently they were borne in the litters down the hill and re-embarked. Almost in silence they were rowed back to the shore of Seraglio Point. As they landed, faint but menacing, they caught the sound of heavy spoons being beaten on the bottoms of kettles—that century-old indication that the Janissaries had become mutinous.

As the sound coming from the massed buildings up on the hill reached their ears, everyone who had been on the Imperial pleasure party immediately fell silent. In the stillness of the late afternoon, the sinister drumming came to them louder and more threatening. Into Roger's mind there flashed a picture of thousands of long-moustached, angry, armed men seated cross-legged: row upon row in the great Second Courtyard, beating rhythmically on their soup kettles with the long spoons that they habitually wore thrust through their turbans.

Aimée was standing beside him. In a swift whisper he said to her, ‘You must return with me to the French Embassy. You will be safe there.'

She shook her head. ‘No. My place is here. But it is as well that we returned early. As long as they keep drumming, they will harm no one. And this has often happened before. They will make some new demand. Selim will either have to accede to it or take strong measures to curb their insolence.'

Having rendered thanks to the Sultan for his day's entertainment, Roger made his adieux to Aimée and Fatima; then, as they went through the gate in the great wall up to the Seraglio, he was escorted by a eunuch along the shore until he could turn inland outside the wall, walk up to the tailor's and change back into uniform.

That night he could hardly sleep for worrying about what might be taking place in the Seraglio, but in the morning there came no news of trouble there, so General Gardane and his companions all donned their smartest uniforms and rode across the Galata Bridge. The sight of this cavalcade of foreign officers on horseback caused considerable excitement, and an
ever-increasing crowd pushed and shoved on either side of them as they rode up through the narrow streets towards the Palace.

When they reached the open space adjacent to the great mosque of Aya Sophia, Roger was relieved to see that preparations had been made for their reception, as that implied the state of things inside the Palace to be normal. A regiment of cavalry, with gleaming scimitars, was drawn up. Beyond them, on either side of the First Gate stood triple ranks of Albanian infantry armed with tall pikes with double axe heads. As the French approached, their arrival was announced by a fanfare from a score of trumpets. From the gate there emerged a gorgeously-clad Turk, wearing an enormous feathered head-dress. Behind him rode his orderly, holding aloft a wrought-iron standard from which dangled three tufts of horsehair, signifying the officer's high rank. Salutes were exchanged and the ‘three tail' Bashaw, with Ambassador Sebastiani on one side of him and General Gardane on the other, accompanied them through the First Courtyard between the massed ranks of hundreds of Janissaries, wearing helmets from which bird-of-paradise plumes curved down almost to their waists.

According to custom, at the Second Gate they all dismounted. White eunuchs lumbered forward to act as horse-holders until their return; then, holding themselves very erect, they marched solemnly across the Second Court, in which were massed line after line of Selim's newly-created bodyguard, the Nizam-i-jedad.

As they approached the Gate of Felicity, Roger saw that the pile of skulls to the left of it had been increased by a dozen or so newly-severed bloody heads. Those, he had little doubt, were the heads of loyal retainers whom Selim had had to sacrifice to the Janissaries in order to keep them from open revolt. He was sorry for the Sultan, who seemed to be a pleasant, kindly man; but mentally condemned his weakness. About Aimée he was worried, because in her he had recognised a kindred spirit, and greatly admired her courage and intelligence as well as her beauty. He would have given much
to be in a position to protect her from the danger that so clearly loomed over the present Imperial family; but saw no way in which he might possibly do so.