The Kadin - Bertrice Small [117]
The throne room exploded into an uproar, and the queen fell into a faint as the Persian courtiers moved angrily toward her. Selim’s soldiers forcibly restrained the threatening crowd as two slaves rushed to revive the fallen woman with rosewater.
“Silence!” thundered the sultan. The room quieted. “You owe this poor creature a great debt She is not the villain here. Slave or no, she was your king’s legal wife and is the mother of Shah Ismail. Had she not gone along with the deception, Cathay would have destroyed you, and the old shah would have died childless.
“She will retain her place in this court with all its honors. I, Selim Khan, command it” He glared down from his throne at the roomful of muttering Persians. “Now I shall deal with the one truly responsible. Bring the lady Shannez to me.”
Proudly she entered the silent room, walked to the foot of the throne, prostrated herself, and then rose to face Selim boldly. She was tall for a woman, slender, and although well into her forties, looked like a girl in her mid-twenties. Her skin was a clear, light olive. Her hair, which was dressed high on her head, giving her a queenly look, was blue-black and showed no gray. Her eyes were glowing jets. She wore a simple plum-colored silk robe, no jewelry except heavy gold earrings, and was unveiled.
Selim gazed at the cold, sensuous face. His eyes moved slowly to the faintly visible pulse in her throat to the high, cone-shaped breasts, the glimpse of a slim leg.
Zuleika, noting her lord’s interested gaze, leaned forward and whispered, “Do not deny me vengeance, my lord. Remember our two sons dead by Persia’s hand.”
“It shall be as you wish, my tigress.” He smiled grimly. “Lady Shannez, I present to you my bas-kadin, the lady Cyra. You have, of course, met my third wife, the lady Zuleika.”
“The sultan is mistaken,” came the smooth, cool voice. “I have never met either of his wives.”
“It is you who are mistaken, Lady Shannez. I imagine it gave you great pleasure to dispose of Princess Plum Jade. No doubt you thought her dead these many years, or perhaps some desert savage’s slave. Zuleika, my love, raise your face to the lady Shannez so she may better look upon you.”
The kadin obeyed her lord’s command. Shannez blanched deathly white but, recovering quickly, looked Zuleika straight in the eye, laughed softly, and said, “So, you’re not dead. Your kismet must be very strong, and here you are to take your vengeance. Very well. I have lived a good life.”
“I shall not kill you. Oh, no, Shannez! I shall show you the same mercy you snowed me! However, I shall leave nothing to chance, as you so foolishly did.” Zuleika gazed at the woman coldly, then turned to a guard. “Bring the man!”
Every eye in the room turned toward the door through which the guard had exited. He returned quickly, bringing with him an incredibly ugly, powerfully built little man, deformed by a hump on his left shoulder. The creature wore nothing but a loincloth and a small, dirty turban which perched on his head like a fallen cake. He was missing one eye, and the other eye moved swiftly to and fro in his head, taking in everything around him
The heat of the crowded room had already brought forth the stench of nervous bodies, but the misshapen man brought a far stronger odor with him. Flinging himself on his face at the foot of the throne, he cried in a harsh voice, “Oh, lord, may you reign over us forever!”
“Rise,” commanded the sultan.
The man scrambled to his feet
“Your name?”
“Abu, my sultan.”
“You are my slave?”
“Yes, most gracious lord.”
“What is your work, Abu?”
“I sweep and shovel dung in my lord’s stables.”
Selim glanced quickly at Zuleika, an expression