The Kadin - Bertrice Small [82]
“My gardens,” moaned Sarina. “The salt will destroy everything, and the roses just coming into bloom!”
Cyra suppressed a giggle. They had survived an earthquake and barely escaped from a tidal wave, and Sarina thought only of her gardens.
“The waters will quickly recede, and we can flush the gardens and fields with fresh water,” said Zuleika soothingly.
And the waters did recede, cascading over the cliff like a giant waterfall, leaving in their wake struggling fish and small crustaceans that scuttled across the gardens. The earth rocked again, a clap of thunder rent the air as the sky turned black as night, and the rain gushed down in torrents.
“Zala,” said Lady Refet, “light some lamps so we may at least see.”
The trembling girl obeyed, but even the flickering lights could not dispel the air of disaster that hung over them. The tremors continued, softer now, but threatening still. Suddenly a slave began to scream hysterically.
The young princes looked at her in disgust. The younger children were simply wide-eyed. Cyra quickly stepped up to the girl and slapped her sharply. “Stop it this instant, Ferilze. It is a bad earthquake, and that is all” The bas-kadin’s voice was firm and assured, but her heart trembled and her mind repeated the same things over and over.
Where was Selim? He had been in Constantinople for a week. Was he still there? Was he safe? How had the quake been in the capital? She knew she must quiet these questions in her mind and tend to the business of keeping their lord’s household calm and operational.
The sky began to lighten, and the rain stopped. Suddenly it was a perfect May afternoon, A fresh breeze blew down from the mountains, and the sun shone cheerily from the clear blue sky.
Cyra fell to her knees, and the others followed suit “There is no god but Allah, and Mohammed is His Prophet Praise to thee, o Allah, who has safely brought us through this danger,” she said, then rose to her feet “I think we can safely say the worst is over. Let us return to the palace.”
On trembling legs Prince Selim’s household descended the twisting stairs of the tower and slowly walked across the sodden lawns to the Moonlight Serai.
The main porch of the palace showed a large crack. Cyra bent to inspect it. “It isn’t deep,” she noted. “It can be repaired.”
In the main court Cyra took a lambskin-covered gold stick and hit the large gong several times. The earth trembled slightly as if in reply. Silently they waited, and then slowly the slaves began to creep out of their hiding places.
The bas-kadin made mental notes. Only two were missing. “Is anyone hurt?” she asked. “Where are Shem and Latife?”
The chief eunuch bustled forward with his usual annoying self-importance. Cyra deflated it quickly, her voice cutting.
“Where were you during the danger? We women had to see to the household while you hid your overstuffed carcass, Allah knows where—probably in the storage cellars. Two slaves are missing. What do you know of this?”
The chief eunuch began to bluster, “As head of my lord Selim’s household—”
“As head of my lord Selim’s household, it was your duty to see first to our safety,” snapped Cyra. “You did not Go to your quarters.”
The eunuch drew his short frame to its full height. “Miserable woman,” he squeaked, “who are you to speak to me thus?”
The other slaves gasped. Cyra answered slowly, deliberately, “I am our lord’s bas-kadin and the mother of an imperial heir. Now go to your quarters, Ali. You are tired and obviously in shock.”
Mortified, the small, fat man brushed past the other slaves. When he was gone, a farm slave came hesitantly forward. “Madam, when the quake struck, I saw Shem run to the pastures to free the master’s horses. I do not know what happened to him after that.”
“I do,” said another slave. “He reached the pastures and freed the horses, but a large crack opened in the earth. He fell in, and it closed again before