The Kadin - Bertrice Small [148]
Laughing, the sultan loosened her grip on his hair and, slipping a sweetmeat into the offending hand, said to Sarina. “Aunt, this maiden’s manners are appalling. Perhaps she is not ready for marriage.”
Sarina, joining in the game, replied, “I cannot say I disagree with you, Suleiman, but she is growing old—fifteen this March—and if we do not marry her off now, we shall have to retire her to the Pavilion of Older Women.”
Mihri-Chan looked from her mother to her brother. Both wore grave faces, and suddenly she wondered if they could be serious. “Ohhh! I’ll be good, I promise!” she wailed.
Suleiman hugged her warmly. “I know, little sister,” he said reassuringly. “You will have your own way, but tell me, for I die of curiosity, why did you set your heart on Ferhad Pasha? You don’t know him.”
“I saw him once,” answered the princess, “but,” she quickly added, “he did not see me. He was walking in our father’s garden. They stopped to talk, and I was hidden nearby in the rosebushes. He is very handsome—and brave, too. I thought it was wonderful how he sent you the rebel Ghazali’s head from Syria when you first became sultan.”
“Yes,” said her brother dryly, “a most courteous gift.”
So, the plans were set in motion for the wedding of the sultan’s fourth sister.
This was the first chance Suleiman had had since becoming sultan to show his hospitality, and the wedding was magnificent Throughout the entire empire, lawbreakers were pardoned. In all the major cities, government-sponsored feasts were held, and each girl of fifteen who chose to marry on the same day as Mihri-Chan was given a dowry of ten gold pieces, a bolt of fine cloth, and a small pearl necklace. To the wedding feast came officials, both high and low, of the Ottoman government—and, for the first time in Turkish history, distinguished Western European foreigners who resided in the city. Suleiman realized the advantages of having his wealth reported to Charles V, Francis I, and Henry VII by their nationals.
The wedding day was beautiful. The bride was radiant in her soft garments of willow-green silk, with a fortune in diamonds and pearls on her pelisse. The bridegroom, a tall, handsome man with an elegant clipped moustache, seemed happy and pleased—and well he might Not only had he had the luck to marry his sultan’s favorite sister, but Suleiman’s gift to him had been the position of third vizier, and he had been assigned the pashalik of Syria. After the five-day celebration, the bridal couple would sail east under the protection of Khair ad-Din’s fleet.
The ship that would carry them from Constantinople had been especially outfitted for the trip. Decorated with gold and silver leaf, its decks were enameled in bright colors. Great purple sails billowed from its silver masts, the tops of which flew green pennants. In the holds beneath the deck only a small area had been set aside for the hapless crew. The rest of the space bulged with wedding presents and Minn-Chan’s household goods. Only a minimum of slaves would travel with the third vizier and his bride. A separate ship would carry the bulk of their household servants.
Toward the stem of the ship, a spacious cabin had been constructed for the bridal pair. Of finest cedar, it was trimmed with gold and hung with silken curtains of crimson and sea-green. Jeweled lamps bobbed on solid silver chains hanging from the beams.
The sultan and the imperial family bade Mihri-Chan and Ferhad Pasha a private farewell in the Yeni Serai. The young princess was obviously blissfully happy, but Sarina Kadin was hard put to keep a cheerful face. Happy as she was for her daughter, she was saddened to have her only child going so far from Constantinople.
Then the yellow barge was ready, and, after a flurry of swift good-byes, they were gone—bobbing across the sparkling, deep-blue waters of the Bosporus to the waiting ship.
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NOW CAME A