The Kadin - Bertrice Small [79]
“Will Selim let them comer
Besma smiled nastily. “He will have no choice,” she said. “If he does not accede to his father’s wishes, he goes against him; and if he does that, it is treason. We have him in a box!”
But Hadji Bey knew of Besma’s plot within minutes of her decision. It had been ridiculously simple to plant several spies among Ahmed’s maltreated slaves. The agha quickly dictated a message to his secretary, which was then enclosed within a small capsule, fastened to a pigeon’s leg, and the bird was immediately dispatched to the Moonlight Serai. His next move was to see that the sultan was made unavailable to Besma for the time being.
Several days later, Selim arrived in Constantinople, with Suleiman riding at his side. They presented themselves at the palace, and the agha quickly arranged for an audience with Sultan Bajazet, who had not seen his oldest grandson since the boy’s circumcision rites. He was delighted by the fresh-faced youngster who stood before him.
Suleiman was tall for his age, and very slender, with the young, hard muscles of a well-trained body. His eyes were gray-green, his skin tanned from the outdoors, and his short black hair curly. There was no doubt that Suleiman was an Ottoman, and the sultan was pleased with him.
The boy wore yellow trousers, bright red leather boots, a white shirt embroidered by his mother in green silk, and a green wool cloak. Stuck in the green silk sash that girdled his waist was a small, ornate gold dagger set with semiprecious stones. Bowing, he greeted his grandfather, “May you live ten thousand years, great sultan of the world.”
Bajazet was delighted with his grandson, and Selim, noting this, quickly spoke up. “I have come with an invitation, my lord father. Never since the day I left your palace have you come to visit my home. I have six fine sons, and only one knows you. My wives complain that my hospitality is that of a beggar, not a prince, that my father is not invited to eat salt with me under my own roof. Surely the empire can spare you for a few days so you may honor my home with your presence.”
“Oh, yes, grandfather,” piped Suleiman. “Do come! I will take you hunting with me!”
“So you hunt, lad? What have you caught?”
“These, sire.” He laid before the sultan six flawless white ermine skins. “Father took me hunting in the mountains last winter. I trapped them They are a gift for you, grandfather.”
The sultan carefully fingered the furs, but no trap marks could be seen. He smiled down from his throne at his grandson. “Would you like me to come to visit, Suleiman?”
“Yes! Yes!” nodded the youngster vigorously.
“Then so be it,” said Bajazet “I shall ride out with you this very day.” And he descended from the dais, took his grandson by the hand, and walked from the throne room.
The sultan was expected to remain at the Moonlight Serai for a week, but at the end of that time, Sarina, who had at long last to everyone’s delight conceived a child, gave birth to a lusty boy. With the proud grandfather’s permission, the infant was called Bajazet and the sultan tarried in his son’s household.
One afternoon as the sultan left the apartments of the new kadin and her son, Selim came to him. “Walk with me in the gardens, my father. I would speak to you, and there is less chance of our being overheard there.”
“What troubles you, my son?”
“It is Suleiman and his brothers. They are past six, and as heirs to your throne they should go to your protective custody. I felt that before you returned to Constantinople we should discuss this matter.”
Bajazet gazed across the gardens. Beneath a group of trees sat three of Selim’s kadins. About them his six grandsons and his twin granddaughters, Hale and Guzel, played. The bas-kadin, Cyra, rocked a cradle containing