Lost Love Found (67 page)

W
INTER
1603

Chapter 15

A
nd so they came home to England,
Archangel, Royal Bess
, and
Homeward Bound
plowing their way up the Thames toward London in a blinding snowstorm, Christmas Day, 1602. The voyage had been relatively uneventful until, crossing the Bay of Biscay, the weather turned particularly foul and remained so.

In other ways, the trip was hard. It had been necessary to crowd a pregnant woman and ten small children aboard
Archangel
, for the terrified group could not be separated.

Lord Burke’s cabin was taken over by the five oldest surviving Kira boys. Only eight-and-a-half-year-old Dov, Simon and Sarai’s eldest son, and his seven-year-old cousin, Jacob, eldest child of Asher and Ruth, completely understood the truth that but for Sabra and the other children, their family was dead and their home was gone. Dov’s five-year-old brother, Aaron, and Cain and Shohannah’s two-year-old twin sons, Zadok and Zuriyel, did not understand. They cried for their mothers, to the deep anguish of Sabra, who tried to mother all of her nieces and nephews while coping with their terrible loss.

Nelda, with an amazingly powerful maternal instinct for a childless young girl, took Ruben, the infant son of Simon and Sarai, into her keeping. The servant adored the baby.

In the chaos of leaving the Kira home, Valentina had pleaded for two goats so that the babies might have milk. The goats were brought aboard, and Nelda took over the earl’s cabin, Ruth’s three little daughters, five-year-old Mattithyah, three-year-old Hannah, and Tema, who was but a year and a half; as well as Sarai and Simon’s three-year-old Tamar, and baby Ruben.

Lord Burke and the earl fitted themselves into the captain’s sleeping cabin with Murrough. Valentina took Sabra into her bed.

The fact that she, so afraid of facing death, had escaped it while the rest of her family was slaughtered weighed heavily on Sabra’s conscience. In her mind’s eye she could still see the decapitated bodies of her family scattered in grotesque positions of death about the marble entry chamber. The jannessaries had forced her to look at the reeking, bodiless heads of all whom she loved. Their faces had all looked so surprised at the suddenness of their deaths—all but her husband, Lev, upon whose visage was anger and outrage. Seeing his sightless, staring eyes, eyes that had never looked at her with anything other than love, Sabra felt suddenly intimidated by the terrible accusatory look she believed was directed at her. She had fainted and did not recover until they reached the harbor.

It was better, Valentina thought, better that Sabra was not aware of their passage through the screaming mob who believed themselves cheated by the survival of even one Kira. Better that Sabra did not know the smell of burning buildings and burning flesh.

Safely aboard
Archangel
, Sabra wept. She continued weeping for three days. She wept for them all. For Lev, who would never see the child she was carrying. For Esther, shrunken and sprawled amid her brightly colored pillows, a stone protruding from her forehead. Sabra wept for herself and for her fatherless child. It was that child, however, who saved Sabra’s sanity. “It is not right that I have survived when the others have died so horribly!” she wailed self-pityingly to Valentina. “Why has God cursed me so to separate me from all those that I love?”

“Simon, Asher, and Cain live on in their children, Sabra,” Valentina said quietly. “Sadly, the line of David Kira is extinct because of your sister Haghar’s death and the death of her child. But you, Sabra! You carry the living seed of Lev Kira within you! Birth that child in safety, and Lev Kira cannot die! Neither of you will ever lack for anything, for it was you who aided me to escape from the palace of Cicalazade Pasha!”

Sabra shook her head wonderingly. “You would care for me and my child, Valentina? We Kiras owe you a greater debt, for your bravery saved our children and kept the line of Esther Kira intact.”

Sabra Kira put her public mourning aside, forcing herself to concentrate on the future. If she wept in private, no one saw her. Weakened by her terrible ordeal, she kept to her bed, but Valentina’s cabin was filled daily with children to keep her company. Valentina began a class to teach the Kiras English. Sabra was greatly encouraged to find that she could learn, and the children were so quick that they amazed the adults.

Food was a problem at first, for the Jews’ strict dietary laws were not to be abandoned, Sabra told Murrough. The young expectant mother took her duties to her family most seriously. Restrictions were explained to the ship’s cook, a family man with a large heart, who did his best to comply.

Each Friday evening Sabra gathered the Kira children about her in the cabin she shared with Valentina and lit candles in the solemn Sabbath ceremony. Their family had been cruelly slaughtered. They had been driven from their home and from their land, but Sabra Kira would not allow the surviving Kiras of Istanbul to forget that they were Jews with proud tradition, and a great history. When the child within her became active, Sabra knew that Valentina’s words were true. Lev lived on in his child, and Lev’s brothers and Esther Kira lived on in the other children.

On Christmas Day, 1602, as
Archangel
anchored in the London Pool, Sabra looked out the rear window of the cabin and asked Valentina, “Is it always so gray in England?”

Valentina laughed. “I suppose after living in Istanbul it does seem gray, but it is winter, Sabra. It’s snowing. You have snow in Istanbul.”

“Not like this.” Sabra shook her head. “I will have to take your word, Valentina, that we are anchored in a river surrounded by a great city, for I can see nothing outside but gray and white.”

“Murrough says it will stop by nightfall. Then you will see London,” Valentina replied. “Murrough will shortly go ashore to visit the London Kiras and tell them what has happened.”

“Will they welcome us?” Sabra fretted. “The English Kiras came to England almost one hundred years ago, and their only contact with the Istanbul Kiras has been through our banking business.”

“Did they not send their sons to Istanbul, as Simon and his brothers spent time in London and Paris and other cities?”

“Sometimes a Kira cousin came for a brief stay, but it was more important that the Istanbul Kiras learn about the other cities than that the others learn about Istanbul.” She sighed.

“Now who will be head of the Kira family? Dov is the eldest surviving male of the Istanbul family, and he is much too young.”

Murrough returned an hour later, bringing with him Daniyel Kira, the patriarch of the English Kiras, and his wife, Tirzah, a small, plump woman who came dressed in her best black silk gown, a fine starched ruff about her neck, and her plump fingers well-beringed.

Murrough and the English Kiras entered the cabin where Sabra and the children were waiting. The little Kira girls, in their shabby, now well-worn robes, looked up at the visitors shyly. The large-eyed twin boys were playing on the floor with little Jacob and Aaron. Young Dov, so serious, weighed down by the burden of being eldest, rose politely to greet them. Tirzah Kira’s eyes filled with tears.

“This is Daniyel and Tirzah Kira, my lady Sabra,” said Murrough formally.

Daniyel Kira bowed politely, not quite knowing what to do. Murrough’s tale of the Istanbul slaughter was more than he could comprehend, and he thanked Yahweh that he lived in a civilized land like England.

Tirzah Kira, however, knew just what to do. She followed her heart. Pushing her husband aside, she held out her arms to Sabra. Looking into the motherly face, Sabra burst into tears and flung herself into Tirzah’s embrace. “There, there, my child,” soothed Tirzah, who, with four daughters of her own, was in her element. “You are safe now, and the little ones, too. You are Lev’s wife?”

“Yes, madam” was the weepy reply.

“Madam?” Tirzah sounded slightly offended. “I am your Aunt Tirzah, child, and you will address me as Aunt. Now tell me who these little ones are, then let us get you all home! You will need baths and respectable clothing. I see you are with child. When is Lev Kira’s son to be born?”

“At the end of next month, perhaps the beginning of the month to follow, A-Aunt,” Sabra replied.

“My daughter, Anna, is expecting her third child then!” Tirzah Kira exclaimed gleefully. “We will help you, dear girl! You need have no fears! You have a family here in England, and although of course it is far too soon to consider it, there are many fine unmarried men in our community who would welcome such a pretty wife.”

“I am a Kira,” Sabra said proudly, “both by marriage and on my mother’s side. I could not think of marrying anyone but a Kira.”

“Did I suggest such a thing?” asked the elder woman. She and Daniyel had an unmarried son of eighteen who would be just right for the pretty widow.

As for the ten small children, Tirzah’s eldest married son would take Simon Kira’s children; her second married son would take Asher Kira’s son and three daughters; and her eldest married daughter, married to a Kira cousin, would raise those adorable twin boys.

Praise God that these few Istanbul Kiras had survived, thought Tirzah Kira. Praise God that they had been brought to England in safety. Messages must be dispatched soon to all of the other branches of the family so that everyone understood that the Kira family was not leaderless. The English branch of the Kira family would now head the family.

“Look, Sabra,” Valentina said, entering the cabin. She had been on deck with Padraic. “The snow has stopped.”

Sabra peered out through the great rear window. “There
is
a city out there!” she said.

“A wonderful city!” said Tirzah Kira enthusiastically. “A wonderful city in a wonderful country ruled by a great old queen! You will not be unhappy here, dear child.”

“Then the queen still lives, Mistress Kira?” Valentina said.

“Somehow. By what miracle, only God knows” was the dry answer.

The Kiras had brought warm cloaks for Sabra and the children. They departed in a great flurry, lowered carefully into the boats below. Nelda reluctantly parted with baby Ruben, a few tears escaping from her soft brown eyes.

“He likes to sleep with this, madam,” she said to Tirzah Kira, handing her a small soft doll she had sewn from one of her stockings.

Mistress Kira took the small toy and looked carefully at the cheerful, tired young girl. “He shall not be denied it, child,” she said, gently touching Nelda’s pink cheek. Tucking the doll into her cloak, she reached beneath the cape, fumbled for a moment, and then brought forth a strand of pearls, which she clasped about the girl’s neck. “A small token, child, for all your loving care to this infant.” Then turning she was gone over the side of the vessel to be swung down in the bosun’s chair to her waiting boat.

Nelda gasped, feeling the pearls gingerly.

“You are a woman of property now, Nelda,” Valentina said with a smile.

“I ain’t
never
had
nothing
like
this
before, m’lady. My ma will be so jealous!” Nelda said.

“She will not be jealous,” said Lord Burke, “until you get home, Nelda. And we will not get home until we take the first step toward home, which is departing from this ship.”

“Surely we are not going to begin the trip home now,” Valentina said.

“We are going to Greenwood, Val. You’re invited, too, Tom,” Lord Burke said. “Tomorrow Murrough is off for Devon and his Joan—and we are bound for Worcestershire and home! Our barge awaits us even now, madam, and we have precious little time before the tide turns and makes rowing difficult.”

Valentina snatched up her cloak. “Then let us go, my lord!” she said. “As grateful as I am to
Archangel
for bringing us home safely, I am anxious to be back on dry land once more! I do not think I shall ever go to sea again.”

“At least you do not have my uncle’s fussy belly,” said Padraic, laughing.

“My father is O’Malley born,” Valentina said with great pride. “O’Malleys are seafarers!”

“Not Uncle Conn.” Lord Burke chuckled as he seated his betrothed in the bosun’s chair and eased it over the side. Of all the O’Malleys of Innisfana, poor Conn was the only one who, to the disgust of his siblings, suffered from
mal de mer
. Poor Lord Bliss’s affliction was a family joke.

With several hours’ notice of their coming, the staff at Greenwood had been able to remove the dustcovers from the furniture, make the beds with fresh linens, and decorate the hall with some Christmas greenery. Greenwood belonged to Skye, Lady de Marisco, though it would one day go to her youngest daughter. It served as the family residence in London. Most of the staff from earlier days had long ago been pensioned off. A butler, a housekeeper, a cook, and a head groom were the only permament staff, for maidservants and stableboys were easily recruited from the nearby village of Chiswick-on-Strand.

The small staff were used to short notice, and the house was warm and inviting, with log fires burning in every room and fragrant smells emanating from the kitchen. They each desired one thing above all else—a hot bath—and the young manservants were kept busy for two hours running with hot water up the stairs to the bedrooms. It was nearly seven o’clock in the evening when Lady Barrows, Lords Burke and Ashburne, and Captain Murrough O’Flaherty met in the small family dining room for Christmas dinner. Murrough, the eldest, sat at the head of the table, facing his lovely cousin who sat at the foot. Valentina was festively gowned in sapphire-blue velvet. The earl and Lord Burke sat on either side of the long, beautifully polished table.