The Harem Midwife (27 page)

STANDING AT THE
window, Hannah once again saw a carriage pull up in front of her house. There could be only one reason for the Imperial carriage with its little mare snorting, harness bells tinkling, plumes dancing in the breeze.

Several weeks had elapsed since Leah’s baby was born. In that time, Tova also bore a child—a vigorous, healthy boy whom she named Benjamin. Jessica, as Hannah had called her, had grown plump and healthy on Tova’s rich milk. She began to gurgle. When Matteo held her carefully on his lap, she waved at him and tried to pull his hair. Isaac had grown fond of the child, fussing over her when she
cried, taking her to Tova’s house when it was time for her to be nursed.

But in spite of all the joy the children brought, it was still a house in mourning. Leah’s death hung heavy in their hearts, even Zephra and Möishe who had avoided her company, believing she brought bad luck upon them, felt her loss. Isaac, who even in happier times kept his feelings to himself, looked sad and weary, although he called for the Rabbi to bury Leah and covered the mirrors for
shiva
, the period of mourning. Zephra no longer whistled tunelessly as she scrubbed the pots. Möishe no longer teased Matteo and tossed the ball for him in the garden.

Grazia, meanwhile, had become more insistent that her money be paid and refused to grant any further extensions. They had until next week or she would insist her marriage to Isaac proceed. Soon, Hannah feared, she would have no husband, no son, no home.

Suat dismounted and knocked on the door. Hannah, the baby on her hip, opened it. “I have orders to fetch you,” he said. “The Valide wants to speak with you.”

“About what?” asked Hannah.

“Her Highness wishes you to bring the baby.”

So the Valide knew. Hannah felt her entire body grow cold.

Suat turned and returned to the carriage, climbing into the driver’s seat.

Hannah had no time to run or hide. Only Grazia was home. She appeared now in the front entrance.

“What is going on?”

“I’ve been called to the palace.”

“I’ll take the baby, then.”

“No,” Hannah said. “She’s coming with me.”

Grazia looked about to argue, but seemed to think better of it and withdrew into the house.

It was horrible to think that the last familiar face Hannah might see was Grazia’s. Hannah wanted to say a last goodbye with Isaac. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and cry,
The Valide has found me out. I may never see you or Matteo again. Don’t let me go without hearing you say ‘I love you’ one last time
. But there was no Isaac to confide in and kiss goodbye. He was at the market and was not due home for at least another hour. Perhaps it was better this way, because what, after all, could he or anyone do to help her out of this situation, a situation entirely of her own making?

The neighbours craned their heads out of their windows to get a better look as Hannah and the baby climbed into the carriage and old Suat clucked to the horse and they pulled away. Hannah hugged the baby against her chest as they rode.

It seemed impossible that this infant born in tragedy could be so beautiful. The baby’s eyes, as green as Leah’s, darted from side to side, trying to focus on Hannah’s face. Bracelets of fat encircled her wrists. Hannah jiggled Jessica in her arms in time to the swaying of the carriage, wondering at the baby’s fate, and her own. The movement would soon have the infant sleeping.

Mustafa was waiting at the entrance to the harem when they pulled up. His eyebrows were drawn in a scowl, his shoulders stiff. The golden quill in his turban trembled in disapproval. He greeted her without his customary smile and offer of tea. He cast a dismissive look at the baby. Her staunchest ally in the palace had become hostile.

Without preamble, he said, “I will take you to her.” He beckoned Hannah to follow him to the Valide’s apartments.

When they passed through the marble columns, the floor was strewn with fresh rose petals. The infant was now asleep in Hannah arms, oblivious to her opulent surroundings, the walls lined with Iznik tiles and gold-embroidered tapestries. What did any of this beauty matter, if the Valide was about to order their executions?

Mustafa knocked on the doors of a formal reception room and when the doors opened, he dropped to his knees and crawled toward the Valide, who wore a kaftan of rich cerulean blue. Tucking the baby under one arm, Hannah got down on her knees and crawled, as best she could, to the royal divan, leaving in her wake a swath of exposed marble floor as her skirts swept away the rose petals. Hannah did not dare meet Nurbanu’s eye.

The Valide’s white lap dog scampered from her arms, knocking over a small table holding an Iznik ewer and a tray of pastries. The pitcher shattered into dozens of pieces. The dog, unconcerned, commenced to gobble down the pastries.

The Valide snapped her fingers and ordered a slave to attend to the mess. Then she turned to Hannah, who had
approached as far as she felt she was proper. “You and I have much to discuss.”

There was no escape from this huge room with eunuch guards at all the doors. There was no way to explain how Hannah came to have this baby.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Hannah said, still afraid to raise her head. The baby had done nothing wrong. Surely the Valide would not order the execution of an innocent child?

“Be seated.” The Valide gestured to a nearby cushion.

Hannah was surprised by the invitation and immediately stumbled to her feet, arranging herself on the cushion, still holding the baby tightly. Nurbanu’s eyes came to rest on the child. She crooked a finger to beckon Hannah to hold the child so she could see her.

“And what have you named this little thing?”

“I call her Jessica,” Hannah replied. “After my sister.” She had planned to ask Rabbi Yakov to say a
brokhe
, a blessing, over the child and bestow the name Jessica in blessed memory of Hannah’s dead sister, but Hannah had not been able to bring herself to do it just yet. Was it right to give such an ill-fated name to the baby? Her sister had died by bloodshed and so would never be at peace until she found another body to inhabit. Hannah hoped Jessica’s spirit would find repose in this baby and protect it.

The Valide sighed. “All that nuisance for a girl.”

Nuisance? What exactly did the Valide know? Hannah couldn’t help thinking of Leah’s white body, the knife, the hasty funeral, the lusty baby, her own tears.

The Valide leaned over to examine her. “It has been so long since I held an infant.” She reached out and took the sleeping babe in her arms, bent over and kissed her round cheeks and silky black hair. “Does she resemble the Sultan, do you think, Hannah?”

The Valide was playing with her. Hannah was certain of it. “She is so young. It is too soon to tell who she looks like,” she ventured, hoping she wasn’t making a fatal mistake.

“Nonsense. Many newborns are the very image of their fathers.” The Valide tucked a corner of the blanket around the baby’s feet. “How old is she?” She peered more closely. “I would say a few weeks. Would that be right?”

Hannah nodded.

“So that means …”

Hannah watched her mentally calculate, counting off months.

“She was conceived a good while before my son ever laid eyes on little Leah.” The Valide studied Hannah, daring her to make a reply.

“She was born very early,” Hannah said. “It is a miracle that she survived.”

“You do not think I am so stupid as to think this child is the Sultan’s?”

There was no answer except a truthful one. Hannah was about to speak, but the Valide held up a hand to silence her.

“The child is mine, of course. I owned Leah; therefore, I own her child.” The Valide cradled the baby even closer.

Would the child be raised in the palace, taught to embroider and play the flute, or would she be executed? Hannah
imagined both of their heads on the executioner’s block.

“She has grown very dear to me, Your Highness,” said Hannah. She had to suppress the urge to snatch the baby from the Valide and race out of the palace.

“So I gather from the way you gaze upon her.” The Valide lowered the child to her lap. “Convince me why I should not take her from you.”

Hannah paused, considering carefully. “The child is of no interest to anyone but me.”

“You acknowledge she is not my son’s child?”

“Yes, I do.” Hannah’s confession was tantamount to asking for her head to be impaled on a spike and displayed on the Example Stones.

“Since you have been forthright, I will be forthright with you,” the Valide said. “I knew before Leah was within the harem walls an hour that she was pregnant.”

Hannah could not believe her ears.

“Unfortunately, by that time the Sultan had already glimpsed her and could talk of nothing else. Imagine my dilemma. I was thrilled he had taken an interest in a female other than his wretched wife. I needed Leah to break Safiye’s spell. Once she did, he would be free to pursue other girls. But protocol demanded that Leah be confirmed a virgin. Mustafa had to record this proof in
The Book of Couchings
.”

The Valide rocked the baby on her lap. “Any of the palace midwives would have told me the truth about Leah. But I wanted someone with a soft heart, someone who would pity the girl. So I summoned you. I knew you would lie to protect her from being sold into a brothel. What I had not
reckoned on was that you would arrange matters so that my son would think he had couched the girl when he had not.”

Hannah recalled the swish of a silk
pelisse
she had heard the night of the couching and the sound of a gasp coming from the balcony above the Sultan’s divan. At the time, Hannah had suspected it was Safiye and felt sorry for the Sultan’s wife having to witness such an event. But it had not been Safiye; it had been the Valide.

“You know Leah is dead?” asked Hannah.

The Valide looked at Hannah, bemused or angry—Hannah could not tell. “There is little that happens in the city that I do not know.” The Valide gave a little shrug. “Inventive little Leah did her job well even in doing nothing. My son is now as licentious as a goat. After the so-called couching with Leah, his royal chamber has been visited by many young women. Three odalisques are now pregnant. Soon, babies will be raining from the heavens, filling dozens of cradles.”

Hannah was confused. What need had the Valide for this child of Leah’s when soon she would have many grandsons and granddaughters? The Valide planted a kiss on the baby’s soft, pink cheek and passed her back to Hannah. There was a spot on the Valide’s blue kaftan where the baby had wet her. People had been executed for far less. When the Valide saw Hannah looking at the stain, she smiled.

“Never mind, it is good luck when a baby makes water on you.”

Nurbanu fixed her steady gaze on Hannah. “Very few of my subjects have ever lived after lying to me, but I
intend to spare you. After all, you will never reveal the details of what you have done. In the end, your duplicity has served me well.”

Hannah was so relieved she wanted to do cartwheels on the cold tile floors or throw the white China porcelain vases of red tulips out the casement window. Of course she did neither. “Thank you, Your Highness. I will say nothing, ever. I am most grateful.”

Hannah did not want to spoil the moment, but she had to ask. “Did you know all along that Leah was staying with me?” The baby was getting hungry; she was growing restless in Hannah’s arms.

“Yes, but I told the Sultan that Safiye, in a jealous rage, ordered the girl’s death. I told him the deaf-mutes had killed her and that her body would never be found, nor would anyone be able to trace Leah’s death back to Safiye, so richly had she rewarded the killers. The knowledge made her repugnant to him.” The Valide showed her square, white teeth. “Life in the harem is so complex.”

“Indeed it is,” Hannah responded. Poor Safiye. “You are the very soul of benevolence,” she managed to say. Once the words were out of her mouth, she feared they sounded sardonic. But the Valide accepted the remark as a genuine compliment. Hannah rocked the baby, hoping she would not cry. There was no need to try the Valide’s patience further.

“I should not reward you when you lied to me, but as you have pointed out, I am the soul of kindness. I shall allow you to keep her. But no one must ever know she is Leah’s child.”

The relief Hannah felt at hearing these words made her voice catch. “Of course not,” she said. “I will say that she is a poor orphan, the child of a slave girl I found in the market and took pity on.”

“Good. I have a contact in the city, a fellow Venetian who brings me tidbits of news from time to time. I hear you require a hundred ducats to pay off a certain … debt.” The Valide stroked the white dog that had crawled back on her lap.

Hannah thought of Isaac. With a hundred ducats Grazia could take the money and leave on the next vessel bound for Rome.

“Tucked behind that vase of carnations is a velvet purse.” The Valide inclined her head toward a table beside Hannah. “Accept it with my gratitude,” she said.

How Venetian the Valide was in her subtlety, giving a gift indirectly so as not to embarrass the recipient. Hannah did not know what to say.