The Kadin - Bertrice Small [63]
“Well, you are safe now,” said Cyra, “Both you and your Alan.”
A slave entered bringing a light supper for the ladies, who, after their afternoon of excitement fell to it eagerly. Even Firousi, her nervousness gone, ate with gusto. As they finished, Sarina moved close to Cyra.
“Would you like to see my plans for the summer gardens tonight, Cyra?”
Cyra stared at her for a moment then, realizing what the girl was trying to do, smiled and said, “Yes. Come to my quarters at nine. We’ll make a party, just the two of us. I have some of those honey sesame cakes you love so.”
Zuleika hissed in Sarina’s ear, “If you cause her one instant’s pain with your viper’s tongue, I will personally slit your throat.”
“What makes you think you and Firousi are her only friends?” whispered Sarina. “Do I not also have eyes to see her pain?”
At the ninth hour of the evening, a gilded Utter waited outside the women’s quarters. Lady Refet and Cyra conducted Firousi to it Holding back her tears, Cyra kissed her friend and whispered, “Know only joy, dearest Firousi.”
As the Utter moved off down the hall, Sarina put an arm around her red-haired companion and said, “Where are those cakes you promised me? My mouth waters for them.”
Cyra was touched by the thoughtfulness of the Spanish girl. There was no reason for the Sarina to be kind to her. Cyra was the favorite, the beloved of Prince Selim, the fortunate mother of his unborn child; and if Zuleika was correct Cyra would have a son and would become Selim’s bas-kadin. Cyra had everything and had been cosseted and petted since her capture. Sarina was merely one of Selim’s gediklis, the girl who was clever at growing things and therefore of some use. And yet Sarina had somehow felt the favorite’s anguish at seeing her best friend take her place in the prince’s bed and had offered Cyra her garden plans as a diversion.
Sarina had been to the favorite’s suite only once—on the morning following Cyra’s first night with the prince. She had not stayed long, and now it gave Cyra pleasure to show the Spaniard about the lavishly furnished rooms, with their thick rugs, beautiful inlaid furniture, and rainbow of pillows.
Afterward, Sarina spread her carefully drawn plans on a low table and explained to Cyra exactly what would grow where.
“Of course,” she said “now that you have this suite, I shall change my plans for your garden to suit your tastes.”
“What did you have planned?” asked Cyra.
“Roses. Gold of Ophir roses.”
“Marvelous I They are my favorite. Against the green of the bushes and trees in my glen, the white marble of the balustrade, and the blue mosaic of the fountain, they will be perfect”
Sarina smiled. “Do yon really like it, or are you just being the diplomat again?”
“No, I am not being a diplomat I think the gold roses will be lovely. You are clever with gardens. I don’t have the patience you do. You really love plants and flowers, don’t you?”
“When I was a child I used to follow my father about the duke’s gardens. I learned a great deal from him.”
“Do you ever miss him?”
“He is dead,” said Sarina. “He died the year before I came to Constantinople. My mother, brothers, sisters, and I returned to my mother’s village. It is on the sea near the town of Málaga. Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand are freeing Spain from the Moors, but they often raid our coast taking captives for sale as slaves. They lay waste to everything, and what livestock they can’t carry off, they slaughter. The people of our village became tired of having their friends and relatives carried off, so we built a stone tower on a high hill overlooking the town. We kept a watch at all times, and if the Moorish ships were spotted approaching, the sentinel would ring the tower bell to warn the people. One day the bell rang, and, taking what we could, we fled into the hills. We were halfway to our hiding place when I realized my cat was missing. I thought I would have time enough to go back and get him. I reached my house safely, grabbed Pedro, and then was captured leaving. I was taken to Algiers, sold