Lost Love Found (63 page)

As Shakir decked her with her jewelry, Valentina protested, “It is a ladies’ afternoon, toad! Why must I wear all this jewelry?”

“Are you mad, my lady Naksh?” he demanded, not in the least disturbed by her temper. “The more elegant and bedecked you are, the more proof there is of the vizier’s love for you. The others will be bejeweled, but none save Lateefa Sultan herself own diamonds like yours. You will be the envy of all!”

Valentina let him have his way. She put her foot down, however, at taking along her giggling handmaidens, but she soothed their disappointment by giving each a gold dinar.

Shakir clucked disapprovingly. “They will spend it foolishly,” he carped. “None has ever before held so much coin,” he complained in a high-pitched voice.

“Why should you care how my maids spend their dinars, toad?” she said coldly. “Are they not entitled to an afternoon in the harem with the peddler women and their friends? I shall be enjoying myself with Lateefa Sultan, and you, toad, will be sitting in Hammid’s chamber on the grand eunuch’s silk divan dreaming of the day when you can slip your ugly feet into his slippers.” Her words hit their mark squarely. As her maids swallowed their giggles behind their hands, Shakir looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I do not deny you, toad,” Valentina continued. “We are all entitled to our little dreams.”

Her maidens were dismissed. Valentina followed Shakir through the cool, dim corridors of the harem to the magnificent apartments of Lateefa Sultan. He left her there, for Hammid had put him in charge of the vizier’s harem for the duration of Hammid’s absence, and Shakir would, indeed, spend his afternoon contemplating his future glory.

Lateefa Sultan’s salon was a beautiful room with paneled fruitwood walls whose moldings glowed with a heavy coat of gilt. In the center was a large, three-tiered fountain tiled in pure, rich turquoise and a clear eggshell white. Faintly perfumed water dripped slowly from the top basin of the fountain down into the octagon-shaped pool, the wide rim of which was also a seat where one might contemplate the creamy-yellow water lilies.

Placed about the room were yellow and white porcelain
jardinie
es
planted with Gold of Ophir rose trees and winter-blooming white jasmine. Two corner fireplaces with decorative hoods of beaten gold helped to take the chill from the air. The fireplaces burned cypress wood, which gave off a lovely scent. Several longhaired cats, some white, some black, some multicolored, but all with marvelous round eyes, sprawled gracefully on thick green and gold rugs. There were cages of brightly colored singing birds everywhere. The cats were too fat and contented to bother with them.

The many divans and stools were covered in jewel-toned silks and patterned brocades. There were great piles of satin and velvet pillows set about. Ruby-glass lamps hung from gold chains. Tables of precious woods artistically inlaid with mother-of-pearl and glittering gemstones were placed about the salon. In a corner, a group of pretty female musicians played softly.

Seeing Valentina enter, Lateefa Sultan called to her, “Come, my lady Naksh, and join us.” As Valentina approached the princess, the older woman said, “You have not yet met my husband’s other favorites.” She drew forward a woman in rose pink. “This is the lady Hatijeh.”

The sulky-mouthed Hatijeh, with her pale ivory skin and blue-black hair, faintly acknowledged Valentina. Her look plainly said that she did not think Valentina worthy of her time.

“And this is the lady Esmahan, my dear,” Lateefa Sultan said.

The sweet-faced creature with dark blond hair and lovely bright blue eyes smiled a friendly welcome. “May you be as happy here as we all are,” she said in a singsong voice.

“Of course,” the princess continued, “you already know Gülfem, Säh, and Hazade. Did you not bring your attendants with you, Naksh? They were welcome, you know.”

“Those silly butterflies irritate me,” Valentina said bluntly. “I gave them each a dinar and permission to join the rest of the harem this afternoon.”

“You are overgenerous with your gold, I think,” remarked Hatijeh, who was noted for her parsimony.

“My lord Cica is most generous with me,” Valentina gibed wickedly. “Was he never generous with you?”

“The rumors are true, I see,” Hatijeh shot back. “You have the tongue of a pit viper!”

“A tongue which also knows well how to please our master,” Valentina mocked the woman who, to her delight, flushed dark red.

“I wonder what the peddler women will bring this afternoon,” Esmahan quickly interjected. She was the peacemaker among the women.

The vizier had long ago become bored with her. She was the mother of his two youngest daughters, however, and he felt a loyalty toward her, for Esmahan was wholly without guile and the sweetest-natured creature he had ever known. Never had she ever scolded him, berated him, or raised her voice to him. It was impossible to be unkind to Esmahan, so she remained in his favor, beaming benignly on everyone with her gently fading beauty.

“Whatever it is the peddler women are bringing, we are about to find out,” the princess said as the double doors of her salon were flung open and a troop of black-clad women entered bearing with them brightly colored bundles. The peddler women set their bundles down, then opened them to display their merchandise. The concubines, manners and protocol forgotten, all rushed forward in order to have the best choices.

Lateefa Sultan put a restraining hand on Valentina’s arm. “Wait,” she said softly. When she was satisfied that the others were all too busy to notice them, she spoke softly and hurriedly. “Do you recognize Sabra, the wife of Lev Kira?”

Valentina stared at the peddler women for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I see her.” Her heart was beginning to hammer with excitement.

“This entire afternoon has been arranged in order to facilitate your escape, Naksh. You must do
exactly
as you are told to do, without questions. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lady.” Valentina’s beautiful face was suffused with fresh, excited color.

“You are to go immediately behind the commode screen at the far end of the salon. Attract no attention. Sabra will bring you a black yashmak and a veil. Put them on and then obey her instructions without question. If, Allah forbid it, you are caught, I will deny any knowledge of this. It will be I who will wield the rod of chastisement on your helpless flesh, as is my duty as mistress of the harem. If you are caught, there will be no further opportunities for escape. I will not help you again. I do so now only in order to protect my husband. Your very presence in his house is a danger to us all.”

“A danger I did not encourage, my lady,” Valentina reminded the princess sharply. “I would be home in England and married to my betrothed, if not for your husband.”

Lateefa Sultan smiled. “I will not argue with you, my dear. Men are weak creatures, as all wise women know. They find it exceedingly difficult to deny themselves anything and must occasionally be treated as the very naughty boys they are. Like moths, men find it hard to resist a beautiful flame. It is our duty to see that they do not get too badly burned.

“I wish you good fortune, Lady Barrows.” The princess spoke those final words in English, and then Lateefa Sultan moved with her customary grace across the room to join the others.

The women were all occupied with the peddlers. Valentina looked about carefully for the ever-present eunuchs, but there were none. Lateefa Sultan had surely seen to that.

Valentina hurried down the length of the room and slipped behind the commode screen to wait. It seemed an eternity. What if one of the other women needed to use the commode? What would she do? Then suddenly a black garment was tossed over the screen and she heard young Sabra’s voice whispering urgently, “Hurry, my lady! There is not much time!”

Valentina pulled the rough woolen yashmak over her body and drew it down. The hood fell to just beneath her eyebrows. She fastened the black veil across the bridge of her nose and quickly stepped from behind the screen.

Sabra took her by the hand, speaking swiftly as they moved down the room toward the women. “The vizier’s wife and favorites have had the pick of our merchandise, so several of us will leave for the main salon of the harem, where the other peddlers await us. One of our band, however, will open yet another packet she has brought with her. It is filled with exquisite jewelry that the favorites will not be able to resist. Our quiet departure will hardly be noticed.” Sabra dug into her robe and pulled out an orange silk, which she gave to Valentina. “Here! This is your empty pack. You have sold all of your merchandise.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

When they reached the gathering of women, Sabra gently pulled on the robes of three of her companions. Those three wordlessly packed up and detached themselves from the chattering, bargaining women. “My lady princess,” Sabra said softly, “may we have your permission to enter the main harem now to offer our goods? Reba? Have you shown the ladies your special pieces yet?”

A plump little woman with a smiling face opened a violet silk to display some of the most magnificent gems Valentina had ever seen. So extraordinary were they that she was almost tempted to remain! The vizier’s concubines gasped. Gems of this quality usually went only to the sultan’s women. They fingered the pieces greedily, Gülfem and Hatijeh immediately fighting over some yellow diamonds.

“Yes, go along,” Lateefa Sultan said quietly to Sabra without even looking up.

Sabra fixed her veil across her face and, still holding Valentina’s hand, led her from the salon. The three other women peddlers with them turned without a word and moved off down the corridor to the main salon of the harem, leaving Sabra and Valentina to move quickly through the twisting hallways alone.

“We must stop at the apartment of the grand eunuch to leave him his fee before we may leave the palace,” Sabra whispered.

“My eunuch, Shakir, is there in Hammid’s place this afternoon!” Valentina gasped. “He will surely recognize me!”

“It is unlikely, my lady. We are unrecognizable, shapeless lumps beneath these robes. But remember to keep your eyes lowered. Your eyes are hard to forget.”

Sabra knocked on the door of the grand eunuch’s apartment and then the two women entered.

The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with musk and ambergris. The incense burned in footed silver burners about the chamber. Shakir was lounging on Hammid’s divan, smoking a waterpipe. A young blond boy, naked but for a gold chain about his waist, was curled next to him on the divan. Shakir waved the two heavily veiled women forward. The boy stared at them with large, dovelike brown eyes.

“You have the grand eunuch’s fee?” Shakir demanded in his high, piping voice.

“Indeed, my lord,” wheezed Sabra, her body suddenly twisted, her voice surprisingly old. “And a little something for you, my lord, as well! Heh! Heh! Heh!” she cackled, and was immediately caught by a fit of coughing that doubled her over.

Shakir peered myopically through the cloud of blue smoke that hovered over the room. He peered at the two old peddler women, for Valentina, quickly following Sabra’s lead, was now hunched over and looking crippled herself. Sabra slipped something into her hand, and when the blond boy, with the agility of a feline, leaped from the divan, his hand outstretched, the two women moved forward, bobbing and servile, to press their little bags of baksheesh into the boy’s hand. They began to bow themselves from the room, backing as they went.

“You have disposed of all your merchandise?” Shakir demanded blearily, his arm going possessively about the boy, who had returned to his place.

“Aye, my lord eunuch! How the vizier’s ladies love fine jewels! Reba and I were quickly sold out,” cackled Sabra. “Blessings upon you, good sir! May Yahweh protect you always.”

“Get you gone, old hags!” Shakir waved them out. “I do not need your god’s blessings. I am a true son of Allah!”

The two women exited from the grand eunuch’s apartments and, Sabra leading the way, moved into the main section of the vizier’s palace and finally out onto the vizier’s private road.

Sabra allowed herself the luxury of quiet laughter. “Did you see that boy’s eyes?” She giggled. “He had more kohl on them than a concubine, and his lips were painted, too!”

Valentina could scarcely contain her excitement. She was free!
Free
! She wanted to shout with joy. Silent, she walked swiftly with Sabra as they hurried away from Cicalazade Pasha’s palace.

“I hope you do not mind the walk, my lady,” Sabra said, “but we are less conspicuous this way. Two faceless women going about their business. It is not far.”

“You mean the palace is near the Kira house? I didn’t know that.” Valentina’s voice was tense with excitement and terror.
She was out of the palace
.

“Not
that
near.” Sabra chuckled understandingly. “The vizier’s palace is along the sea. At the end of this little private road are the teeming streets of the city. Several streets over is the street leading to Balata. Near yet far, my lady.”

“I will not feel safe until we reach your house,” Valentina said passionately. She clamped her lips shut tìghtly, for they were passing through the main gates of the vizier’s palace, past the guard-boxes that flanked the entry. In a few moments they reached a public street and were lost in the crowds. “I am free!” Valentina whispered triumphantly.