The Kadin - Bertrice Small [27]
This life had its effect on the young child. He rarely smiled and was never given to outbursts of boisterous play or laughter as other children were. By the time he was three, he had matured so rapidly in mind that he spoke not like an infant barely out of leading strings but like a boy of seven or eight He was wary of strangers, though few ever visited the Tulip Court
Although neither his mother nor his nurses were aware of it he frequently slipped out of his quarters to visit his father’s stables or to play quietly alone in the sultan’s gardens. He was always careful not to be noticed, for although no one had told him, he instinctively understood that his life depended on his discretion.
One day when he was six, he sat amid the branches of a tree in the imperial gardens and discovered to his surprise that he had two half-brothers. He had never seen another boy in his whole life and was very tempted to climb down and join them, but a small voice in his head warned him not to, so he remained where he was. He later learned the other boys’ identities from his half-sisters, Leila and Aiyshe, his aunt Refet’s twin daughters. They were the only children who came to play within his mother’s house.
The older boy was ten-year-old Prince Ahmed, his father’s assumed heir. He was no taller than Selim, and fat, with olive skin, dark eyes, and black hair. His round, petulant face was marked with acne, and his manner was arrogant. He never hesitated to beat any member of his retinue who did not immediately respond to his commands, and Selim did not regret his decision to remain hidden.
The younger boy was taller, with wavy, dark-brown hair and large blue eyes. He was solemn of manner and gravely courteous to all who served him. This was eight-year-old Prince Korkut He was so royal a young boy that even Prince Ahmed was polite when they met—which was as infrequently as Prince Korkut could manage without seeming rude.
For over a year Selim sat in his tree and observed his brothers—each playing separately within his own retinue—for imperial princes had their own households. Why, Selim wondered, are they allowed the freedom of my grandfather’s garden, but I am not? If he spoke to his mother on this matter, she would learn of his ventures into the main part of the palace, and he would be guarded more closely than ever. Then one day as he sat in his tree, he heard a voice.
“Why do you always hide within the branches of this tree?”
Startled, Selim answered, ‘I do not want to be seen.”
“Why not?”
“Because my mother wishes it”
“Who is your mother?”
“Kiusem Kadin.”
“Ah! You are my brother Selim!”
Selim peered between the branches, and a smile lit his face. “And you are my brother Korkut, son of Safiye Kadin.”
The boy beneath the tree laughed. “You are correct, little brother, and since you cannot come down, I shall come up.”
So began the friendship between the two princes. Selim, confessing his adventures to his horrified mother, finally won her consent to allow Korkut within the Tulip Court.
To Kiusem’s delight, Prince Korkut was an excellent influence on Selim. The older boy, like his father, was a scholar, and encouraged his younger half-brother, an indifferent student, to pursue his studies more diligently. The finest minds in the Ottoman Empire were discreetly brought to the Eski Serai to teach the boys. Selim, once he applied himself, discovered he enjoyed his studies. He was not brilliant, like his father and Korkut, but he was quite intelligent.
When Selim was twelve, his grandfather, Sultan Mohammed the Conqueror, died, and his father put on the sword of Ayub and ascended the throne. When Selim was fourteen, Sultan Bajazet sent the boy and his