The Kadin - Bertrice Small [83]
Another slave spoke up. “Latife is dead, I think, my lady. A hanging lamp came loose and fell on her head. She lies in the hallway between the harem and the prince’s quarters.”
Cyra quietly directed slaves to put the shaken household back in order. She sent other slaves to see whether the unfortunate Latife had indeed been killed. She had not Sarina gathered up her gardeners and rushed off to inspect her precious gardens.
The high walls surrounding the prince’s estate had been completely destroyed; there were several large fissures that had not closed on the grounds, and the fields were completely torn up. However, all the buildings had remained standing, except two sheds. There were some large cracks, but no serious damage. The slaves, save Shem, were all alive, as well as the farm animals and the prince’s horses. This happy news was delivered to Cyra and Lady Refet by the eunuch Anber. Cyra looked at this dark man, who reminded her so much of Hadji Bey and who was Hadji Bey’s protégé.
“Where were you during the quake, Anber?”
“I gathered as many of the household slaves as I could and led them to safety, my lady kadin.”
“Are you loyal to our master, Anber?”
“I would do all within my power to protect him, madam.”
“I think we shall soon have a need of a new chief eunuch.”
A smile split the ebony face.
“How sad it will be to lose our good Ali.”
“I hear and obey, my lady.”
“It must be a completely natural death, Anber.”
“Perhaps a bit of poppy,” suggested Lady Refet quietly. “Sometimes the hand is apt to slip.”
They smiled at one another in complete understanding, and Anber backed slowly from the room.
“Ali will be no loss,” observed Cyra.
“He is Besma’s best spy,” replied Lady Refet “I would give my ermine-lined pelisse to see the look on her face when she learns of his sad demise.”
“I have a feeling,” whispered Cyra, “that the time of my dear lord’s triumph draws near. We must surround ourselves only with those who are loyal. We have allowed Besma’s spies their freedom for too many years.”
Lady Refet reached out and took Cyra’s hand in hers. “How I bless that day seventeen years ago when you came to us. You are more Turkish than I am, and so good for Selim.”
“Loyalty and ambition are not just Turkish traits, sweet madam. They are Scots as well, and as to my being very Turkish, why should I not be? I have lived more than half my life here.”
“We have spoken only once, dear child, of the time you came to us, and it was so long ago. If it no longer pains you, will you answer a question?”
“If I can,” said Cyra.
“Were you never afraid? You, Firousi, and Zuleika were the calmest girls I ever saw enter the sultan’s seraglio. I would have expected it from Zuleika, since she is an Easterner by birth, but you and Firousi were Christian maidens.”
“The events in my life had moved so quickly that I was in shock,” replied Cyra. “The night I was auctioned on the block in Candia, I did feel fear. It was warm, and yet, stripped naked on that platform, I felt frozen. My shame lasted but a short while, though it seemed forever. Hadji Bey bought me, wrapped me in his cloak, and whisked me off to his house, where I was given clothing and the immediate company of my two friends. We vowed that night that we should be true to one another no matter what our fate brought If we were to be slaves, we would be powerful ones. After that there was no time for fear. A whole new world opened for us. A stupid woman would have wept and begged for death at her supposed shame. We chose life, and all it could bring us. Too soon do we meet with death.”
The older woman stared at the younger. “Through the ages there have been only a few women such as you, my child. How fortunate my nephew is to have you.”
As darkness fell, the slaves lit the lamps and brought the evening meal. Tremors still shook the earth gently at intervals. The two women ate silently, each content in the knowledge that the danger was past, and each lost in her own thoughts.
The moon rose pure and white in a dark velvet sky, preening itself in the now