The Kadin - Bertrice Small [110]
No one thought much of the new ikbals’ barrenness, for in September of 1513 Firousi Kadin presented Sultan Selim with his fourteenth child, a daughter, Nakcidil, the “Print of Beauty.” In October Zuleika followed with the birth of her daughter Mahpeyker, the “Moon-Faced One,” and finally, in late November, a son, Karim, was born to Cyra.
Of all the bas-kadin’s children the baby, Karim, was the most like her, and perhaps for that reason the dearest to her heart. Little Karim was, from birth, his mother’s image. His skin was a pure Celtic bone-white, and within a few months’ time his eyes had turned to the green-gold color of his mother’s. His hair was red, but not Cyra’s red-gold; it was, rather, a bright carrot color. His features were Cyra’s in miniature.
“He reminds me of my brother, Adam,” laughed the bas-kadin happily. “He is pure Leslie.”
“An unfortunate thing for an Ottoman prince,” remarked the sultan teasingly.
Karim’s birth came at a time when the sultan badly needed diversion. Sultan Bajazet had died quietly at his isolated serai on the Bosporus, and once more the rumors of murder sprang up to haunt Selim. Then, Lady Refet, who had been ailing, died suddenly in her sleep.
Bajazet was mourned officially and noisily, but Lady Refet was mourned quietly and in the hearts of all those who had known her. The kadins were especially stricken by the death of Selim’s aunt She was, aside from Hadji Bey, their last link with a happy past She had been their mother, their confidante, their friend. The thought of spending their future without her was devastating. If they had anything to be thankful for, thought Cyra, it was that Lady Refet had not had a long, drawn-out illness. In then-last ten years at the Moonlight Serai, she had suffered several severe attacks of breathlessness, and had become weaker with each attack. The reorganization of Bajazet’s harem, though largely administrative, took her remaining strength. In the last few months before her death, she had rarely left her suite, and when she did, she was always carried in a litter.
Cyra felt Lady Refet’s death deeply, for she had loved and admired the woman greatly. Refet had been the most selfless woman she had ever known, seeing to her own daughters’ happiness first and then devoting the rest of her life to her nephew Selim and his family. Their happiness had been her happiness; their sorrow, her sorrow. She had asked nothing for herself, but instead had given generously of her love, her time, and her understanding to those around her. It was so typical of her to the quietly in her sleep.
The harem wore black for several months, and the kadins sent word to their lord that so red were their eyes from weeping that they could not possibly appear before him. Others were not so discreet, thinking this an opportunity to curry favor with Selim.
Unfortunately, the sultan was beginning to suffer almost constant pain from the stomach ulcers that afflicted him. He had never been the most patient of men, and the agony brought on by his illness caused his temperament to undergo a drastic change. Selim was becoming cruel.
One poor new ikbal, a Provençal called Pakize, expired from a beating administered by the sultan himself when she dared to appear before him dressed in reds and blues. Another unfortunate had two fingers of her right hand cut off when she was heard playing too gay a tune on her lute. The birth of Karim brought an end to the official mourning, but the sultan was not long diverted from his bad mood The pains in his belly grew worse with each passing day. The physicians could do nothing short of administering drugs for his pain. Selim would not permit this.
He had changed The sultanate weighed heavily on him. His temper grew short, and the slightest infraction of rules was punished quickly, though fairly. He still sharply resented the fact that the old shah of Persia had secretly encouraged