A Love for All Time (65 page)

“Safiye has always refused to understand that one son was not enough for the succession.”

“Perhaps what she really objects to is the fratricide that follows a succession,” Janfeda remarked.

“Fratricide is a necessity when a new sultan succeeds,” said Nur-U-Banu coldly, “but before the succession many sons are necessary. Look at the first Selim. All those sons by his four kadins, and by the time he died only the eldest, Suleiman, remained. Some had died in battles, some of illnesses, but only one was left. What if there had only been one, and something had happened to him?”

Janfeda preferred not to argue the point with her friend. She privately thought the murder of a previous sultan’s younger sons by his heir was an appalling thing. She was certain that another solution could be found if only they were willing to seek it out. “I am very grateful nonetheless,” she said, “that I only have a daughter. I would have regretted losing your friendship, Nur-U-Banu.”

The valideh pressed the other woman’s hand warmly. “I do not know what I should do without you, Janfeda,” she said. “Now help me to find a solution to this problem.”

“Take Safiye into your confidence,” said Janfeda. “Tell her that Murad lusts after Marjallah, and that he will probably claim her for his bed. Tell her although you
both
sought to avoid this that it now appears to be inevitable. Suggest to her that she continue her friendship with Marjallah despite it; that she and Marjallah be as you and I are. Be frank with her. Say what you have said to me. That Marjallah is not like the others; that she is intelligent; and that it cannot hurt to be her friend as it will allow her to know what Marjallah thinks and does. Safiye is no fool. Everyone needs a friend, even a bas kadin.”

“Especially a bas kadin,” said the valideh. “I think that you may be correct in this matter, Janfeda. It is certainly worth trying. If she intends to hate Marjallah she will hate her no worse for knowing now that Murad means to have her than knowing later. What other choice do I have?”

“I think none, my dear friend.”

“That,” said Nur-U-Banu, “is a masterpiece of understatement,” and she laughed ruefully.

The main door to the sultan valideh’s salon opened, and Murad entered the room. “You should be pleased, mother, that I have done your bidding without question. Esther Kira is safely returned to her own litter, and is at this very moment on her way home.” He bent and kissed first Nur-U-Banu, and then Janfeda. “Good evening, aunt. You have heard the terrible news of Javid Khan’s death?”

She nodded. “Is anything a secret for long in the harem, dear Murad?”

The sultan looked about the room. “Where is Marjallah?” he said.

“I have seen her put to bed,” answered his mother. “She is totally worn out, and of course she is shocked by her husband’s murder.”

“Where did you place her? In your bedchamber? I certainly hope she is comfortable.”

The sultan valideh sent Janfeda a quick look. “I have put Marjallah in the little apartment next to mine where your sister lived until her marriage. I think she will be perfectly content and safe there until we can decide her fate.”

“It is already decided,” said Murad.

“You cannot marry her off so quickly, my son, so I hope that is not what you are planning to do,” said Nur-U-Banu.

“I want her myself,” he said bluntly.

Janfeda laughed lightly. “What a greedy man you are, my dear nephew, but then you were a greedy boy. With a harem full of beautiful virgins you desire Marjallah who is surely in her middle twenties, is actually somewhat long in the tooth. Why not honor her as Prince Javid Khan’s widow, and save her to eventually use in marriage with someone whom you wish to honor?”

“Because,” he said, “I want her for myself. I owe neither you nor anyone else an explanation of my conduct. Remember that I am the sultan. However, I will tell you that she intrigues me, and fascinates me. I must have her! I will have her!”

Janfeda shrugged. “I cannot see it,” she said, “but do as you please, dear boy.”

“I always have,” he said with a quick smile.

“You must allow Marjallah time to mourn,” said the valideh.

“The longer she mourns Javid Khan,” he said, “the more she will resist the idea of becoming mine. She is to come to me this Friday. I have already told Ilban Bey.”

“Murad!”
Nur-U-Banu looked shocked, and Janfeda even looked discomfited by his decision. “It is unthinkable! You cannot do such a thing! As Javid Khan’s wife she technically belongs to his family. What if they want her sent to them?”

“Then we shall tell them that Javid Khan’s bride died of her grief,” the sultan answered promptly. “Understand me well, mother. I want this woman! No one shall prevent me from having her.
No one!
” Then turning from them he strode from the room.

“How can I tell Marjallah?” Nur-U-Banu looked genuinely distressed. “What do I say to her? This is impossible!”

“Instruct your people to say nothing, and keep her by your side. You must, of course, tell Safiye tonight,” Janfeda counseled. “You and Safiye must then try over the next few days to persuade Marjallah of the great
honor
being done her by Murad. She does not know our ways. Tell her it is a custom if you must.”

“Zeki!” the sultan valideh called to her personal eunuch.

“Yes, majesty?” The call was answered by a tall, spare white eunuch with silvery-gray hair.

“Go to the bas kadin, and tell her that though the hour is late that I would speak with her.” The eunuch bowed, and hurried from the salon. “Serfiraz!” Nur-U-Banu spoke to her head woman servant. “I want refreshments immediately before the bas kadin arrives. Hurry your women!”

“Instantly, majesty,” rejoined Serfiraz, and ran from the room to marshal her forces.

They did not have long to wait. Safiye returned with Zeki, her own personal eunuch, Tahsin, accompanying them. “You have sent for me, madame? How may I serve you?”

“Sit down, my dear Safiye,” said the valideh smoothly, and the Venetian raised a curious eyebrow as she made herself comfortable.

Janfeda smiled across the low table of inlaid mother-of-pearl and ebony. “You look well, Safiye. How is Memhet?”

“Flourishing!” Safiye beamed for she liked nothing better than to speak about her only son.

“We have a problem,” said the valideh.

“We do?”
Safiye looked a trifle confused.

“We certainly do, dear Safiye. You will remember that we cajoled Murad into giving Marjallah to Javid Khan for we feared that such an intelligent woman could catch the sultan’s fancy, and cause dissension in the harem. Well now Marjallah is back, and what you and I feared all along has happened. Murad has only just left me after telling me bluntly, and with a terrible lack of delicacy, that he intends to have Princess Marjallah brought to him this Friday!”

Safiye looked stunned. Then she said, “Can you do nothing, my mother valideh?”

“I have begged Murad not to do this thing! Janfeda has pleaded with him! Marjallah belongs to the Khan’s family, but when I brought this very point up with Murad he said he should tell the Khan if he asked that the prince’s bride died of grief! He is determined to have his way in this matter, Safiye. I cannot move him.”

“Then why do you call me, my mother valideh? If you cannot change his mind, I certainly cannot.”

“There is one thing that you can do, Safiye,” said the sultan valideh.

“What?” Safiye looked dubious.

“Once I stood in your slippers, my daughter, as you will one day stand in mine by virtue of your son’s inheritance. It is lonely being the bas kadin. It is lonely being the sultan valideh. Still I have Janfeda to comfort me. Were it not for my friend I hate to think what my life would be like. Do not desert your friend, Marjallah, because of something that is not her doing. She is not like the others in the harem. You need each other. Esther Kira has told me stories of how the kadins of the first Selim were all as close as sisters; fighting first for the family good, and then only for themselves and their children. One day I will not be here, and my responsibility will be yours. It will be good to have Marjallah by your side then.”

“What if she has a son?” demanded Safiye. “How will she like me when Memhet inherits, and destroys her child? How can my lord Murad’s favorites be friends? We cannot.”

“She might have a daughter,” said Janfeda. “I did. You might consider another way of protecting Memhet’s succession than by murdering his brothers. Why could the other princes not be incarcerated in their own apartments with their attendants and sterile damsels to live out their lives in peace? What if Memhet could have no sons? The dynasty would die if his brothers were all dead, but at least the dynasty would be protected if the other princes lived in their comfortable captivity.”

“No!
Nothing must threaten Memhet’s succession!” said Safiye. “Living heirs only tempt the malcontents. Still, you are right in one way. Marjallah might have a daughter. Most of my lord Murad’s children are female. I don’t want to lose my friend. She is the only real friend that I have, and I have been happy since she came.”

Nur-U-Banu smiled. “You have grown wiser, Safiye, and I am pleased. Now, dear daughter, we must discuss how to tell Marjallah of the sultan’s will. He insists that she come to him first this Friday which has, of course, shocked me greatly as I know it has you. I am certain that Marjallah will be of as delicate a nature as we are, and she is quite apt to resist the sultan. We must convince her otherwise. I know that she loved Javid Khan, but we both know that she will also learn to love Murad as well, will she not?”

“How can she not love him?” said Safiye softly. “He is the most wonderful of men! I loved him from the first moment that I laid eyes on him. He was my dream come true! Of course she cared for Javid Khan, but if she will but give herself the chance she will love Murad even more! She must! He cannot be hurt!”

“I will instruct Ilban Bey to silence any loose tongues,” said the valideh, “and we will say nothing to Marjallah for a day or two, but in four days she must go to the sultan, and it is up to us to make her realize the honor, and the opportunity offered her.

“If she knows that we love her, and are happy for her,” said Safiye, “I know that it will be easier for her.”

The two older women smiled at the sultan’s bas kadin, their eyes catching in a knowing glance which fortunately escaped Safiye. The valideh signaled to her servants, and they were instantly at the little table passing refreshments to the three women who now having solved their problem chatted quite companionably with each other. Finally Safiye arose and took her leave of the valideh, and Nur-U-Banu embraced her son’s favorite with more warmth than she had in years. Janfeda smiled to herself. Nur-U-Banu was always the most amenable when getting her own way, she thought. Yet something distressed her, but she could not put her finger on it. She was anxious to depart for her own apartments so she might concentrate on what it was that was niggling at her. She always listened to the voice within.

A
idan had awakened the following morning, her memory of the previous day totally intact. She had a raging headache, and her mouth was dry. Unable to help it she wept herself into a frenzy, and Jinji, truly frightened, sent Iris for the valideh.

Nur-U-Banu, realizing that her actions could easily determine Aidan’s cooperation, hurried to the little apartment next to her own. Enfolding the weeping woman into a motherly embrace she made soothing noises, and allowed Aidan to cry until she could cry no more. Finally when Aidan’s sobs had subsided she said, “I know, dear child, what it is to lose a loved one. My second son, Ahmed, died when he was a little boy of two. Murad was his father’s heir, but Ahmed was my baby. He even looked like me with his fair hair and dark eyes.” She sighed. “I wept for days, but in the end it did me no good for I felt no better, and it did not bring him back to me.”

Aidan looked up at the valideh. Her eyes were swollen almost half shut, and her nose was red. She was not a woman who looked appealing in grief, thought Nur-U-Banu. What a pity Murad could not see her this way, and save them all this difficulty. “I understand what it is you are saying to me, madame,” said Aidan, “but it is so unfair! Javid Khan was a good man and he suffered deeply the loss of his family. For him to fall victim once again to some unknown raider is not right!”

“The raider is not unknown, dear child. Word came early this morning that my son’s Janissaries had caught up late last night with those responsible for the death of Javid Khan and the destruction of his home and his chattels. They have been punished. Even as we speak, all are dead.”

“Who?” demanded Aidan. “Who did this terrible thing?”

“It was your husband’s twin brother, a savage called Temur. Did you not tell me he was the one responsible for the original attack on Javid Khan’s home in the Crimea?”