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Authors: Mika Waltari

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Hardly had I come home and begun to tell Giulia of these events than her face darkened and she asked sharply what I had to complain of, since the Sultana had been so bountiful as to discharge our debts. Any other man, she said, would have thanked and praised his wife for such skillful management, but from now on I might handle my own affairs and she would not lift a finger to help me. I said, “I ask no better. But now let us inspect your plot of land and consider the best way of getting rid of it.”

We hired a boat and glided first along the shore of the Bosphorus, past Galata and the dervish monastery. When we had gazed for some time at Grand Vizier Ibrahim’s beautiful gardens Giulia relapsed into a very thoughtful silence. We returned across the Golden Horn with its myriad shipping and on beyond the Seraglio until we could see the Palace of the Seven Towers before us. We went ashore below the ruins, and a steep goat track led us up through their desolation to a little herb garden and a quantity of water-logged timber. At the bottom of the hole that the workmen had dug for the foundations of Giulia’s house could be seen the broken arches of ancient brick vaults. The place was bleak, barren, and in every way uninviting for a human dwelling, though the view over the Marmara was very beautiful. As I stood silently pondering what was to be done, a most excellent idea came into my head and I said, “Now that Andy is married, Giulia, he is sure to need a house in Istanbul. Why should we not let him have this valuable land for a modest sum? He loves to work with stones and here he can do that to his heart’s content. I could make him comfortably drunk before I show him the property.”

For some reason I had not troubled to mention Andy’s wealth or to confess that it was to him I owed my well-filled purse and the presents

I had bought her; she therefore observed scornfully that he could never afford it. My brilliant idea so carried me away that I told her of his good fortune and of his wife’s estates. Giulia stiffened and an ugly expression came over her face as she exclaimed, “O Michael, you blockhead! Why in God’s name did you not marry the girl yourself? As a Moslem you’re allowed as many as four wives. But it was like you to let the chance of a lifetime slip through your fingers for the sake of that oaf of a foster brother.”

In her fury she turned pale again with another attack of nausea, but when she had recovered I said soothingly, “Giulia, my dear one, how can you suppose I should ever think of any other wife but you?”

Giulia answered with a sob, “I could have brought up a callow girl like that in the best possible manner and treated her like a sister. Later when she had borne you a child, who knows but what she might have swallowed some unwholesome mushroom sauce, or fallen sick of the fever that’s so common in Istanbul? Stranger things have happened. We could then have inherited her property. I think only of your welfare, Michael, and would never stand in the way of your good fortune.”

I repented now more than ever of having so imperfectly appreciated the merits of the young Hungarian girl, but consoled myself with the thought of selling that useless land to Andy. On our way home Giulia stared at me repeatedly and shook her head as if bafHed by my irrational behavior.

When we were at home again and seated at our meal, Alberto’s hovering presence irritated me so much that I said angrily, “Last time I was in the Seraglio I hit upon an excellent plan to dispel all suspicions about Alberto and safeguard your reputation, Giulia. Tomorrow I shall buy him a eunuch’s dress which in future he must always wear. No one will ask awkward questions so long as he acts the part on his walks abroad.”

My sensible proposal appealed to neither of them; they exchanged glances that revealed their loathsome complicity and Giulia so far forgot herself as to say, “Why, eunuchs are beardless! Alberto’s beautiful curly beard makes such a disguise impossible.”

She stretched forth her hand with the freedom of ownership to feel his short beard, but I snatched back her hand and said, “He must shave it off—he must shave twice a day if need be—and he must eat rich food until his cheeks are plump and oily. Things cannot go on as they are.”

Despite vehement opposition I had my way in this matter and the weeping Alberto was compelled to shave off his beard and array himself in the yellow garments of a eunuch. For Giulia soon perceived the advantage of this arrangement—eunuchs fetched a far higher price than ordinary slaves, and she felt both wealthy and distinguished when she walked about the city with the seeming eunuch in attendance. I now did all I could to fatten him and at times made him eat a whole dish of greasy food, regardless of his cries for mercy. Soon I had the satisfaction of seeing his cheeks grow round and glossy and his empty Italian beauty fade into plumpness. The fatter he grew the better I liked him.

So our life came gradually to run in more peaceful channels, and not many weeks had passed before Giulia came to me, pressed her cheek to mine and murmured that I was soon to be a father. I marveled that she should have discovered this so soon, but she declared she was experienced in these matters; also she had had a dream in which she held my child in her arms. I both doubted and hoped, but soon my physician’s eye detected the outward signs of her condition.

Ineffable joy filled my heart; I no longer thought only of myself, for the expected increase in my family laid new responsibilities upon me and I dreamed ambitious dreams for my unborn son. Giulia showed me great fondness and I did all I could to avoid distressing her. So throughout that lovely spring we lived like a pair of turtle doves, building our nest.

I shall begin a new book to tell of my house and of my advancement in the Seraglio, of Grand Vizier Ibrahim’s statesmanship, and of Abu el-Kasim and Mustafa ben-Nakir, who had been so long absent from my sight.

BOOK 7.
The House on the Bosphorus

THAT spring, radiant with fair hopes, did not pass in idleness; my new duties in the Grand Vizier’s service kept me fully occupied. The times seemed not to favor the Ottoman Empire, for the Emperor Charles, having succeeded in making peace with the King of France and the Pope, now strove to consolidate his power in the European countries and to unite them for a decisive assault on Islam. After the successful defense of Vienna he induced the Pope to crown him emperor in Bologna, and in the course of the spring he called a German Diet in Augsburg to prepare a final attack on the Protestants.

Khaireddin alone, from his base in Algeria, waged war upon him and won a great victory over Admiral Portundo, who was convoying the coronation guests on their return from Italy to Spain. For these noblemen and courtiers alone, Khaireddin extorted ransoms amounting to tens of thousands of ducats, though for Admiral Portundo himself he demanded only Captain Torgut in exchange. This officer had been taken prisoner by Christians and chained to a rower’s bench, where he had time to meditate upon the melancholy consequences of rash and foolhardy behavior.

I had my own share in this naval triumph, which gave striking proof of how formidable an opponent Khaireddin had become even for the united navies of the Emperor. Having carefully studied the situation and observed the scornful resentment felt by the sea pashas for this hero, whom they continued to regard as a barbarous and untrustworthy pirate, I sent word to Khaireddin in Algeria advising him to cease his futile raids on the coasts of Italy and Spain and instead attempt a real victory over the Emperor’s fleet. I also suggested that he should cease dyeing his beard. The Sultan’s sea pashas were all aged men, and in the Seraglio a long gray beard was regarded as the most convincing sign of experience and ability. As soon as news of the great victory reached the Seraglio I hired a young poet named Baki and a couple of street singers to compose and perform suitable verses in Khaireddin’s honor until his name was on everyone’s lips. In bazaar and bathhouse he was hailed as a light of Islam. His beard was reputed to reach to his waist, and the Prophet himself, they said, had appeared to him in a dream.

To restore the balance after his naval defeat the Emperor bestowed the island of Malta and the fortress of Tripoli upon the Knights of St. John. This was the severest blow that could have been dealt Khaireddin, and indeed the Sultan’s whole sea power, for having drifted hither and thither without firm foothold since the fall of Rhodes, these ruthless crusaders whom Mussulmans called bloodhounds of the seas became once more a menace to merchantmen and pilgrims. Their war galleys, also, continually patrolling the sea routes and convoying Christian vessels, would soon greatly hinder Khaireddin’s lawful traffic.

One day on returning home I was met at the gate by Alberto who ran up to me in his yellow eunuch’s dress and in a state of great agitation announced that Giulia’s labor pains had begun. These terrible tidings made me cry out in fear, for it was not more than seven months since I had returned from the war and so premature an infant could hardly be expected to survive.

Despite my medical experience I was no midwife, having practiced chiefly as an army surgeon, and reflecting now upon the delicate organism of a woman I felt ill equipped indeed. I was therefore greatly relieved to learn that the skillful Solomon had been sent for and was even now at Giulia’s side. As he had attended Sultana Khurrem at her confinements, I knew I could wish for no more competent man. He came out to the courtyard, his arms bloody to the elbows, and assured me cheerfully that all was going as well as could be expected. At his frightful appearance my knees turned to water; I exhorted him to do his best and promised him lavish presents if only my son might survive. But the honest Jew explained that he had been sent by Sultana Khurrem and that for certain reasons he could accept nothing from me. He wearied of me at last, saying that my woeful presence did more harm than good, and urged me to go for a brisk walk to restore the color to my cheeks.

In vain I told myself that millions and millions of boys had been born into the world before this one, many of them prematurely. I found no comfort. The sun was sinking behind the hills when like a thief I slunk back to Abu el-Kasim’s house, hoping to see some strange woman run joyfully toward me crying, “What will you give me for bringing you glad tidings?”

But I heard no joyous voices and the women squatted like crows in that silent house, avoiding my eyes. I feared the worst when Solomon came to me with a child in his arms and said in a tone of compassion, “It was not Allah’s will, Michael el-Hakim. It’s only a girl. But mother and child are well.”

I bent forward fearfully to look at the infant, and to my unspeakable joy perceived that she was no defective embryo, but fully developed and healthy, with a little dark down on her head. She opened her deep blue eyes and gazed at me from her paradise of innocence with a look that made me clap my hands and praise Allah for this miracle.

When Alberto saw how great was my relief he too smiled happily and wished me joy. Until then, no doubt, he had feared that being a Moslem I should find no delight in a daughter. When I again expressed my wonder at Giulia’s short pregnancy he assured me that he had heard of many similar cases, and cases also where the opposite had occurred. There had been for example a distinguished lady in Verona whose child was born eighteen months after the death of her husband. Therefore, said Alberto, not the most eminent physician could predict these events with certainty; so much depended on the physical structure of the woman and other circumstances, and perhaps even on the husband. Lowering his eyes respectfully he went on, “Voyages, campaigns, and pilgrimages, which impose long abstinence on a man, seem to increase his virility so that children engendered after such journeys come sooner into the world than most. Such at least is the opinion commonly held in Italy.”

In my great happiness I lost all my antipathy for Alberto, and indeed secretly pitied him because I had forced him to shave and assume the yellow robe of a eunuch. I therefore spoke kindly to him and let him admire the child in my arms. He pointed out how strongly she resembled me, until I soon saw that she had not only my chin but also my ears and nose, though what most delighted me was the perfection of her eyes. Both, like Giulia’s left one, were sapphire blue.

I care to say no more of this little daughter of mine, the touch of whose tiny fingers melted my heart as if it had been wax. For her sake I spoiled and pampered Giulia as she lay scolding me for all the things I forgot or left undone.

Because of some lingering weakness and to preserve the youthfulness of her breasts she insisted on my finding a wet nurse for the child, and from a Tartar in the bazaar I bought a Russian woman who was still suckling her year-old son. My mind misgave me that she would neglect my daughter and save most of her milk for her own boy, but when the Tartar offered to knock the child’s brains out without extra charge I could not agree to so godless an action, and consoled myself with the thought that I could keep the infant and train him up as a houseboy.
 

The purchase of the nurse was not the only great expense incurred at that time, for when the house that Sinan had designed, with all Giulia’s alterations and additions, began at last to rise on the sloping shore of the Bosphorus, I was appalled at its size. All unknown to me it had grown and grown until now it was almost as large as the palaces of the agas. Giulia’s vanity further demanded that the whole property should be enclosed by a high stone wall—the principal mark of distinction in a house. I went in deadly fear as Sinan presented even longer and longer reckonings, though he employed young
azamogh- lans
from the janissary school for the work and I was permitted to buy the building materials through the Defterdar’s treasury at the Sultan’s price.
 

Long before we moved into our mansion I had to buy two Negroes as boatman and gardener’s boy, and of course a Greek head gardener. Giulia dressed the Negroes in red and green with silver belts, and as the gardener swore by all the Greek saints that he had never encountered two such lazy and impudent blacks as these I had also to buy a meek Italian boy to help him. So large a household required a cook, the cook required a slave girl, and the slave girl needed a woodcutter and a water carrier to help her, until at last I felt as if I were being sucked down into a whirlpool.
 

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