The Kadin - Bertrice Small [66]
“Highness, the old woman spent her bride price years ago. Age has addled her wits, and she remembers not.”
Selim heard a snort from among the veiled women.
“But why,” he continued, “did you forbid her sons the right to aid her!”
“They could aid her if they chose. A viper’s bite is gentler than an ungrateful son,” replied the merchant smoothly.
Another snort.
“Who makes that noise?” demanded the prince.
Silence.
“If you do not speak, how may I judge this case fairly? I will protect the teller of truth.”
A heavily veiled woman stepped forward. “I am Dipti, the second wife of Razi Abu. He lies, my lord. Cervi’s bride price was not spent by her. He gave it, along with my bride price and the bride price of his two other wives, Hatije and Medji, to her for her bride price.” She pointed at a tall figure in an exquisite lavender silk feridje.
Selim noted that the other women wore the plain black alpaca feridje of the poor.
“Then,” continued Dipti, “he threatened to disinherit Cervi’s sons if they helped her. What could they do, my lord? They and their families live within our house. They work for their father and have nothing of their own.”
The prince frowned. “These are grave charges, Razi Abu. What have you to say?”
“They are all jealous of my precious Bosfor, my lord prince. This flower of springtime has brought me happiness in my old age. She is naught but gentle and loving.”
“Hah,” snapped Dipti. “Listen to me, my lord. For his gentle and loving Bosfor, he has robbed us all. Before she came into our house, each of us had, as the law allows, our own quarters, our own conveniences for cooking and sleeping, our own slaves. Now Hatije, Medji, and I are crammed into two small rooms because Cervi’s quarters were not large enough for Bosfor, and Razi Abu must rebuild the harem to suit her. Our slaves were taken from us so she might have more and now just one old crone waits upon us. Any jewelry of value that we had has disappeared, to reappear on her person. We have not dared to complain for fear of being cast out like poor Cervi.”
“Will any of the others substantiate your charges, Lady Dipti?”
Hatije and Medji stepped forward. “We do, my lord.”
A young man moved before the prince. “I am Jafar, my lord, the son of Cervi and eldest of all Razi Abu’s sons. The women speak the truth. They have been treated most shamefully—my mother worst of all Our father has never been an easy man, but until he met this Bosfor he at least treated his family with respect Had he taken the woman as a concubine, we would not have minded. Since she has come, we are all mistreated. Any imagined offense to her is reported to our father, and the offender is severely punished. We are in fear of our lives.” He stepped back among his brothers.
The prince’s eyes found Bosfor. He motioned to her to step forward. “I would hear what you have to say.”
The lavender figure glided to the foot of his dais and sank into a graceful bow. Slowly she raised her liquid brown eyes to him.
“Why, the bitch,” said Cyra softly. “She dares to flirt with him.”
The woman’s features were vague behind her sheer veil. Selim reached down and flicked it away. The face smiling up at him was the artfully decorated one of a whore. She was about seventeen. Selim was repelled, for he detested brazen women, but he did not show his feelings.
“Gracious prince.” The voice was husky and low. “These charges are but the ravings of jealous old women and greedy sons overeager for their inheritance.”
“Could you not have been content to be a pampered concubine? Surely you are not so ignorant that you did not know that in order for you to be married to Razi Abu, he must divorce one of his faithful wives. This would seem to me a hardhearted thing to do.”
“I am a respectable woman, my lord.”
“Hah,” snorted Dipti.
Bosfor turned on her. “Old hag! You’ll regret your meddling. I am to bear my lord a son.”
“Aiyee! You add