The Kadin - Bertrice Small [105]
“Come, my lord agha. Sit by the fire and tell us of Ahmed’s end,” she said, leading him to a comfortable spot and helping to settle him “Some peach sherbet?”
A slave girl placed a crystal goblet held in a filigreed gold holder in the eunuch’s hand.
“Wherever Ahmed went he lost his followers as quickly as he gained them Realizing the battle was lost he deserted his last few followers and fled to the nearest village, hoping to find refuge in anonymity. Poor prince! As usual, he made an unfortunate choice. The village he chose had been pillaged and ravaged by his own men but two nights before. He was recognized. The villagers held him until Prince Selim arrived.”
Zuleika’s eyes were shining with expectation. She reached for an apricot and bit into it so fiercely that the juice ran down her chin. “How did he die, Hadji Bey? How did the pig die?”
The eunuch smiled at her. Age had not softened this proud woman of Cathay. Once she had decided that Ahmed was her enemy, she had been relentless. “Patience, my dear, I am coming to that” He raised the goblet to his lips and sipped his sherbet Refreshed, he continued, “Ahmed was brought before his brother. They say he blubbered and soiled himself like a child. Prince Selim spoke sternly to him, exhorting him to accept his defeat as the will of Allah and die like a true Ottoman. He assigned a black mute to hold his brother’s sword, and ordered Ahmed to fall upon it. The unfortunate prince cried out in terror that he could not, and begged Selim to kill him himself. Our prince reminded his brother that the Prophet forbids brother killing brother. A storm was blowing up, and he was becoming impatient.
“The thunder came closer, and it began to rain. Still, Prince Ahmed could not bring himself to end his worthless life with honor. Then a streak of lightning struck a nearby building, shearing off its side. The assembled company turned to stare in amazement and when they turned back, Ahmed was skewered as neatly as a chicken on a spit.”
“Good,” snapped Zuleika. “So should all traitors end!”
“There is more,” said Hadji Bey. “The mute who held the sword may not be able to speak, but I myself taught him to write. He sent me a message saying that in the moment that all turned to gaze at the lightning, a hand shoved Prince Ahmed onto his sword. No one else saw it The hand belonged to Ibrahim.”
“How horrible,” whispered Firousi in a frightened voice.
“Why should it be horrible that our enemy is dead?”
“Zuleika, you misunderstand me. It is good that Ahmed is dead, but why did our lord Selim have to be his executioner? Why could he not have left that task to the judges? Now the people will say he killed his brother to gain the throne.”
Zuleika cast her eyes upward in exasperation, but Cyra put an arm about her friend. “No, dearest No one will call our Selim murderer. Nor will they call him hypocrite. Had he not delivered the judgment against his brother himself, he would have been criticized. Technically, Ahmed was still the heir, since the sultan’s illness has prevented him from publicly renouncing Ahmed and naming Selim. The thousands who fight follow, and believe in Selim would have expected him to dispose of his rival. There was no other way. Selim might have tortured and dishonored Ahmed, but he did none of these things. He permitted his brother to the honorably and quickly. When our lord returns to us, we shall never mention this incident Though Ahmed was his enemy, he was also his brother. Selim cannot help but feel some anguish.”
“Cyra, Cyra,” said Hadji Bey. “You have lived a thousand years to have gained such wisdom! Perhaps when I named you I should have called you Hafise instead of Cyra.”
“I think I prefer being called Cyra to being known as the ‘Wise One,’” laughed the bas-kadin. “If you are called wise, then everyone expects you to be so. It would be too great a strain. I could never satisfy everyone.”
“Aiiee!” cried the grand eunuch,