The Kadin - Bertrice Small [57]
Laughingly he wrestled her quiet then kissed her pouting lips. Struggling loose, she hurled several additional epithets at him. His eyebrows rose. Tour command of Turkish truly astounds me, beloved, but the night grows short.”
Melting into his arms, she cried softly, “Love me, love me, my lord Selim. We have so little time.”
16
LADY REFET looked sternly up at her nephew. “I do not approve, Selim. I do not approve at all.”
The prince smiled down at her from his saddle. “Nevertheless, aunt, it is my wish. We shall return within four days’ time. Be sure you guard both my treasures well.” Wheeling the horse, he called to the turbaned boy mounted next to him, “Come, lad,” and galloped off toward Constantinople, his escort of Tartars following in his wake.
Once on the main road, he turned to his companion. “Well, Firousi, how do you like your adventure?”
“Very much, my lord,” replied his turbaned companion, “but I don’t understand.”
“Cyra is with child.”
Firousi gasped.
“But no one knows except my aunt, and they must not know until I have taken steps to protect her.”
“Besma!”
“Yes,” replied the prince. “We are to meet Hadji Bey at the house of David ben Kira in Constantinople. David deals discreetly in slaves for persons of importance. I shall purchase a bodyguard and a food taster.”
“But why do you need me, my lord? You take a terrible chance. If word of this escapade should reach the wrong ears, there would be a terrible scandal.”
“I want to buy Cyra a very special gift, Firousi. I need you to help me pick it out, since you, as a woman, know her tastes perhaps better than L Dressed as a boy, you will attract little attention.”
“I don’t know whether I shall ever get this brown stain off my skin, my lord.”
“If your slaves have no luck, my little jewel, we shall try together in a few nights’ time, eh?”
Firousi was shocked. “But Cyra—” she began.
“Cyra understands that the sooner I take another ikbal, the less painful it will be for her. I do not wish to cause her pain.” He eyed the girl beside him. She was well disguised. The brown stain covered her skin, her hair was hidden beneath the turban, and her generous breasts were bound flat beneath a tight layer of cloth. “You are most beautiful, my dear. I begin to anticipate the conclusion of our business.” Firousi, eyeing him tremulously from beneath her lashes, did not reply.
Riding all day, they camped outside the city that night, and after the dawn prayers, they rode on into the Jewish quarter. Dismounting before the house of David ben Kira, Selim warned the girl, “Speak little, and call me master.” She nodded.
They were greeted by David ben Kira himself. He bowed. “You do my poor house great honor, Prince Selim. Please come this way. The agha kislar awaits you in my private quarters.”
Hadji Bey rose as they entered the room. “Selim, my son! You are looking well. Now, why this urgency to buy new slaves? Have I not provided your palace with enough servants?”
“Cyra did not tell you?”
“Her note simply stated you wished to purchase a bodyguard and a food taster and you needed my help.”
“Caution again,” said Selim. “I can learn much from her,” he mused. “Cyra is with child, my old friend. When word reaches Besma—and Cyra assures me it will—my father’s evil kadin may be tempted to act rashly. It will not please her, with Ahmed childless, to have me become a father.”
“Your good fortune delights me, and your precautions show wisdom.” Turning to David ben Kira, he said, “Can you provide us with such slaves?”
“Indeed, yes, my lord agha. We have an excellent selection.” He clapped his hands, murmured a few words to the attending servant, and a few minutes later the door of the room opened to admit a dozen young men.
Selim looked them over carefully and found his eye drawn to an enormous dark-brown Negro with close-cropped hair and a rebellious look; but before he could speak, David ben Kira turned to his slavemaster.
“Idiot!”—be pointed at the very slave Selim had noted—“get that wild man out of here! These