The Kadin - Bertrice Small [101]
The great gates of the palace loomed before him. He reined Devil Wind to a halt and for a moment gazed up at the stone battlements that surrounded this city within a city. Then, putting spurs to his horse, Selim Khan entered through those gates, closing the door on his past and facing his destiny grimly.
He was greeted by Hadji Bey alone, for Selim had insisted that until the sultan made public the change in the succession, there should be no official reception. At that moment the only thing he wanted was to see his father, for during the years Selim had lived at the Moonlight Serai and had had easier access to him, Bajazet had become most dear to his younger son. Understanding this, the agha personally escorted the prince to the sultan’s apartments.
Bajazet’s speech had not been affected by his stroke, but he remained paralyzed from the waist down, and his mind alternated between clarity and forgetfulness. He had aged by twenty years, and it was with shock that Selim beheld him.
“My beloved son,” whispered the old man from his couch.
Selim flung himself before his father in a gesture that was part respect, part grief. The sultan looked down on him for a moment, then said, “Get up, my son. I am an old man and have no regrets, except that I did not kill Besma sooner. Sit here next to me. My mind is not always clear now, and I must speak with you before it begins to wander again.”
The prince rose from his knees and lowered himself to the cushions. “What would you have me do, my father?”
“Are your kadins and children safe? Ahmed is like his mother and will not hesitate to get at you through them”
“They are now within the palace, my father.”
“My palace, I have discovered, is not necessarily a place of safety, but hopefully Hadji Bey will see that they are well protected. Hear me, Selim. I cannot rule any longer. My doctors either cannot or will not say whether I shall recover completely. I do not think I shall When I am well enough to speak before the people, I shall publicly declare you my heir. If I tried to do so now, there are those who would say I had been forced or coerced in my illness, and we must avoid war at all costs. However, until I can speak out, you are my regent I ask only one favor of you. I have, as you know, three kadins—Safiye, who is old now; the second Kiusem, whose son Prince Orhan is just ten; and Turnan, who has borne me the child of my old age, Prince Bahiteddin, who is five. Protect them all for my sake. Let no harm come to them. Remember your own mother and your frightened childhood.”
Selim bowed his head and then looked up into his father’s eyes. “I shall guard them as my own family. This I swear to you. No harm shall come to them by my hand. But what of Ahmed’s children and women?”
“You will know what to do, my son.”
So, Prince Ahmed’s women and his three daughters were strangled by the court executioners and stuffed into weighted sacks to join Besma at the bottom of the Bosporus. No one mourned their loss.
And while Selim went about the business of running his father’s empire, his wives began the business of settling themselves. The harem of the Eski Serai was far too small to accommodate all of Bajazet’s women and their attendants, let alone the new arrivals. Lady Refet, although not officially named, was looked upon as the sultan valideh, and she set about straightening out the overcrowded situation.
Not counting the ikbals and the kadins, there were some two hundred women in Bajazet’s harem at this time. Lady Refet ordered a large, comfortable house built at the edge of a forest on the palace grounds. In it she retired most of the older women. Here they would live out their lives in peace, comfort, and security. It was with little reluctance that these older ladies of Bajazef’s harem retired
New odas consisting of ten girls apiece were set up in the freshly refurbished harem. Each had its own oda mistress, an older woman on whom the younger girls could look as a mother figure, and the older ones as an experienced friend.
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