Enchantress (7 page)

A dreadful thought tugged at Brittany’s mind. “Mama, will you or Simijin be in any danger from the sultan because you helped me escape?”

“Of course not. The sultan would not dare harm me or Simijin, for fear the people would rise up in revolt since they love Simijin well. Our concern is getting you safely out of that evil man’s clutches. You will have to be very careful and do exactly as you are told, Brittany. Remember, you must pretend to be a woman of the harem.”

Brittany stood before the mirror, staring at the image of a stranger. Her skin was dark, her hair black, and she did indeed look like a woman of the harem. Her slight body shook with fear, and she turned worried eyes to her mother.

“What will I do without you and Simijin?” She looked at the dear faces of the women in the harem and saw that they were all crying. “I shall miss you all.”

Brittany’s mother embraced her, trying hard not to cry. Several of the women came forward and hugged Brittany, their silent glances telling her they feared for her. One of them placed a heavy veil across Brittany’s face so that only her green eyes were visible.

Jillianna looked about the harem at the faces of the women who had befriended her daughter. She could see from their expressions that they, too, were worried about Brittany. There were none here who would betray Brittany to the sultan. Jillianna felt ashamed because she had always shunned these women.

Jillianna took her daughter’s hands, wondering if they would ever see each other again. Brittany’s tears ran down her face and she wanted to cling to her mother. It was frightening being cast into a world she knew nothing about.

Jillianna smiled sadly. “I have written a letter to your grandmother in America, hoping that she still lives. You must communicate with me as soon as you are able.” Again
she hugged her daughter to her, then quickly released her, fearing she would lose courage and not be able to let Brittany go.

Simijin quickly entered the room, and he looked startled when he saw the transformation that had come over Brittany. He took her hand and spoke to her lovingly. “Take courage, daughter of my heart; you will be in good hands. One day we shall all be reunited.”

Brittany embraced the man whom she thought of as her father. “How can I leave you and Mama? I will miss you both so dreadfully.”

He gazed into her eyes. “It is but temporary. Always remember that you are the daughter of the English Rose, and be proud.”

Simijin was leading her out of the room. Brittany turned back for a last glance at her mother, and found she was being comforted by the women of the harem. Simijin led her to a donkey cart that had been driven up to the harem door. Ikaia handed Achmed a leather satchel in which she had packed Brittany’s clothing and toilette items.

“Brittany, you will not be alone,” Simijin assured her. “Put your faith in Achmed, for he will be with you and has sworn to protect you with his life.”

Before Brittany could ask questions, she was hoisted onto a cart and Achmed whipped the donkeys into motion.

Too frightened to think clearly, Brittany wanted to jump down and run back to all that was familiar. She was about to enter a world that was foreign to her.

The gates of the palace loomed ahead. In her whole life she had never been on the other side of those gates, and she could only imagine what she would find there.

When the cart lumbered up to the main gates, Achmed halted and turned to Brittany, pointing to the satin-padded crate he had placed there earlier.

“You must get in and lie down among the cushions and let me close the lid. It is Lord Simijin’s wish that we take no chances on you being discovered.”

Brittany shook her head when she gazed at the small crate. “I cannot fit in that. How will I breathe? It frightens me, Achmed.”

“See…” he said encouragingly, “I have cut these holes in the wood. You will be able to see where we are going, and you can breathe quite well.”

Trusting Achmed, she gathered her courage and climbed into the crate.

For a moment, she was certain that she would suffocate. But she found she could breathe and the thought of being discovered by the sultan’s men gave her the courage she needed.

She closed her eyes, wondering if this horrible ordeal would ever be over. Why had the hateful sultan come into her life? How would she ever find her way home?

The streets of Constantinople hummed with life, so the donkey-drawn cart driven by Achmed attracted very little notice as it moved slowly along, stirring up the red-colored dust in its wake.

Achmed guided the donkeys past covered markets where spices, ivory, and silk were displayed to catch the buyer’s eye. There were shops where rare pearls, gold, and precious stones were sold. When they moved past the Grand Market, the air was filled with the delicious smell of hot bread baking.

As the shaggy animals plodded along at their leisure, Achmed glanced back over his shoulder at the wooden crate, knowing how uncomfortable Brittany must be in the limited space. Even though he had cut holes for her to breathe, she would be feeling the intense heat. He noticed that the sun was going down and felt the need for haste, but the mass of humanity that surged about the streets slowed his progress to a crawl.

When a troop of Janissaries rode past, heading in the direction of the Grand Vizier’s palace, Achmed cast his eyes downward and hunched his shoulders, hoping he would not be recognized.

Soon, the hue and cry would go out that Brittany had escaped, and the sultan’s guards would be scouring the city for her. Achmed was determined to get Brittany safely on board the
Victorious
before that occurred.

Thorn Stoddard placed his signature on the document that had been handed him by Sydak, the harbormaster. “I am
sailing with a full load this time,” he told the man. “So, we are riding low in the water.”

Sydak, who had been harbormaster for over forty years, shook hands with the captain, as was his habit when he encountered an American. They seemed to expect it! “It is good that you are soon sailing, for there is trouble in the city tonight, Captain Stoddard.”

“I had not heard. Of what nature is this trouble?” Thorn asked, not really interested, but sensing the old man wanted to talk about it.

“The sultan’s Janissaries are out tonight on a nasty mission, I am told. It may even be that they will close the harbor. Perhaps you should leave as soon as possible.”

“I have heard no good of the Janissaries. They are a ruthless lot, are they not?”

The harbormaster looked around furtively, and when he saw that no one would overhear, he answered. “At one time they were the elite guard, but that has not been for many years.”

“What are they about tonight?” Thorn inquired.

“It is said that they seek a woman of rare beauty whom the sultan desires. She is a woman from the house of the Grand Vizier, and there will be trouble and woes before this is brought to a conclusion.”

Thorn’s interest was aroused. “Like everyone else who comes to your shores, I have heard that the Grand Vizier has a wife of great beauty. I believe she is referred to as the English Rose.”

“Yes, this is what they say, but of course none has ever seen the English Rose.”

“Could it be her whom the sultan seeks?” Thorn wanted to know.

Sydak shook his head. “No, never her! The streets would run with blood if anyone, even the sultan, tried to take the English Rose from Lord Simijin.” Sydak leaned in closer and whispered, as if he were afraid of being overheard. “I do not know who this woman is,” he shrugged his shoulders, “but to
think a mere woman would cause such a commotion. She must indeed be beautiful. Pity her if the sultan does find her, for it is said that he is touched by madness. Many of us wish for the days before his uncle, Abdul Hamid, died and Selim came to power.”

Thorn recalled his audience with the Grand Vizier. He was grateful that he had rejected Lord Simijin’s offer to take his woman to safety; she must be the one the sultan was searching for tonight. All he needed was to become embroiled in the politics of Turkey!

Sydak saw the impatience in the captain’s eyes and bowed low to him, taking his leave. What did an American care about the fate of one woman, he thought regretfully, or the problems of Turkey and the ruthless Sultan Selim?

Thorn watched the old man depart before he went below deck to his cabin. He had to make ready to sail before dawn. If there was going to be trouble between the sultan and his Grand Vizier, he wanted to be out of the harbor when it happened.

Cappy Hamish, the first mate of the
Victorious
, watched the big black man lumber up the gangplank carrying a bulky crate with obvious ease.

Gently the eunuch sat the crate down, and smiled at the first mate. “You will remember that I was here this afternoon. My name is Achmed, and I come from the Grand Vizier with a gift for your Captain Stoddard.”

“The captain has left orders that he is not to be disturbed. I will have to stow the crate in the cargo hold for now. The gift will be given to Captain Stoddard after we have sailed.”

Achmed smiled. He had purposely waited until the hour was late in hopes that the captain would be too occupied with charting his maps to be disturbed.

Cappy called two of the crew. “Here…look lively, men. Stow this crate in the hold.”

When the men tilted the crate on its side, Achmed
protested. “The gift within is of a great value, so I would caution you to have the greatest care and carry it upright.”

Cappy instructed the men to do as the eunuch requested. He also gave his consent when Achmed begged to be allowed to accompany the crew below deck to make certain the crate was properly stowed.

It was but a short time later when Achmed returned and bowed before Cappy. “Sir, it is my wish to take passage on your ship. I have always desired to see your America.”

Cappy looked surprised. “Are you aware that this ship is bound for Charleston, South Carolina?”

“It does not matter the destination. Here I am a slave; there I will be a free man.”

Cappy looked astounded. “Do you know anything about America—in particular, the South?”

“No, but I am willing to learn.”

Cappy shook his head. “You may be trading one master for another. I have never heard of a time when a man of black skin asked to be transported to the South. Sounds like Daniel asking to be put in the lions’ den to me.”

Achmed did not understand the first mate’s meaning. Taking a purse from his belt, he held out a gold nugget. “Will this pay my passage to America?”

Cappy nodded. “Yes, and you will have money left over. But you should know that there are no cabins available, so you will have to be contented with sleeping on deck.”

“If it is all the same to you, I will remain below with Lord Simijin’s gift. I will be quite comfortable there.”

Cappy found the request strange, but he had other matters on his mind and he readily agreed. He could not understand why the eunuch wanted to watch over the Grand Vizier’s gift, when he was running away from him. He shrugged his shoulders. Turkey was filled with strange people with even stranger customs.

Jillianna stood behind the latticework, watching Simijin greet the sultan. Fear caught at her heart as the sultan glanced
in her direction, and she had the feeling his evil black eyes were staring right at her. She stepped back a pace until she could compose herself. Even though she was still uncertain about her daughter’s future, she was thankful that Brittany was well out of that evil man’s hands.

The sultan’s voice was silky. “So, Lord Simijin, I come to seek my little bird and find only an empty nest.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Where is she?”

Simijin merely shrugged in an offhand manner. “Are you referring to my stepdaughter?”

“You know very well I am. Where is she?”

“Do you not recall that I told you she would be going to England?”

A look of triumph gleamed in Selim’s eyes. “You would like me to think she is on her way to England, but I know better. I know she sailed on the American ship,
Victorious.
Several of my swiftest ships will put to sea within the hour, and I am sure they will easily overtake the merchant ship. And when they do, all aboard will be put to death, except, of course, the daughter of the English Rose.”

A cry escaped Jillianna’s lips, and she trembled with loathing and fear. With hands clasped, she dropped to her knees and prayed that her daughter would not fall into the evil sultan’s hands.

Simijin’s voice was calm. “I would not advise Your Majesty to touch my stepdaughter.”

Selim smiled. “Do you threaten me, Lord Simijin?”

“No, not I. But you are the leader of a great country. As you know, Turkey is important to many of the world powers because of her location. England will protect us because she craves this route to India, while France and Italy want to protect their rights to the Mediterranean. It might be well advised for you to remember that my stepdaughter is half English by birth.”

“That is one of the thing that intrigues me about her.”

“But, Your Majesty, with the rest of the world watching, and comparing you with your uncle, you need to be a strong
leader, and one the European countries will respect. It must not look like any woman is too important to you. It must appear that you are buried in matters of state.”

For a moment the sultan’s eyes gleamed with the feeling of power, then he smiled. “You are very clever, Lord Simijin. But take care that you are not too clever. There are many worthy men who covet the title of Grand Vizier. Before he died, my uncle told me to put my trust in you and heed your advice. I will listen to you in all matters of state, but I will also have this girl. Have a care that I do not strip you of your office,” he threatened with a gleam in his eyes. “You could be replaced with a more…loyal subject, shall we say.”

Simijin bowed from the waist. “That is Your Majesty’s right.”

Selim moved across the room and turned at the door with a menacing snarl on his thick lips. “I will have the daughter of the English Rose, Lord Simijin, for I have my heart set on her.”

After the sultan had gone, Simijin rushed to Jillianna, because he knew she had been listening to his confrontation with the sultan. He was worried about her. She was going to need his strength in the weeks ahead until they learned Brittany’s fate.

Brittany felt the heat pressing in on her, and she was having difficulty breathing. She was in total darkness, and she was frightened. She had always been pampered and protected, and had never known the word fear until today. Now she was on board a ship that was headed to a country she had only read about in books.

“Little mistress,” the dear, familiar voice of Achmed cut through her fears, “I am going to help you out of the crate now, but you must be very quiet.”

When the lid was ripped open, she drew in a deep breath and blinked her eyes until they became accustomed to the dim light. Achmed helped Brittany to her feet, but she had
to lean on him for support since her legs felt as they would not hold her upright.

Brittany glanced about her. There were crates, barrels, and boxes, as well as coils of rope and extra canvas for sails. It was damp here, and she shivered.

“I am hungry, Achmed. I hope you have brought me something to eat.”

“I will return shortly with food. I first wanted to get you out of the crate.” He led her over to the steps and guided her into the shadows. “Stay hidden until I return,” he warned. “Do not come out unless you know I have returned.”

The ship swayed and rocked, and she leaned back against a barrel, trying to keep her balance. “Are we underway, Achmed?”

“Yes, mistress.” He moved up the steps and called over his shoulder. “I will return quickly.”

Brittany sank to her knees, too weary to stand. This had been the worst day of her life, and she shuddered to think what lay ahead of her. Each swaying of the ship took her farther away from her mother and Simijin.

True to his word, it was but a short time later when Achmed reappeared. “I have brought you food, little mistress, and it looks edible. I am sure it is not pheasant, but it appears to be some kind of fowl.” He smiled. “It will surely fill an empty stomach.”

He dusted off a barrel for her to sit on, and watched as she picked up a slice of the meat and tasted it. Wrinkling her nose with loathing, Brittany said, “Achmed, perhaps I am not so hungry after all. This does not have a pleasant taste.”

“You will find that ship food does not compare with the diet you are accustomed to eating. Whatever it is, you must eat, mistress, for we do not know what is ahead of us.”

Nodding her head in understanding, she managed to take several mouthfuls before she handed it back to Achmed. “I suppose I am too miserable to eat. I am worried about my mother.”

Suddenly Achmed tensed. “Shh,” he whispered, waving her back into the shadows. She ducked behind a wooden crate just as heavy footsteps dropped down from the rope ladder. She hugged the darkness as Achmed blew out the candle, and they were enveloped in total darkness.

A crewman appeared, carrying a lantern which flickered eerily across the walls and danced drunkenly to lighten darkened corners. From their hiding place, Achmed and Brittany watched the man stow a small crate and then move back up the steps. When his footsteps faded away, Brittany breathed in a sigh of relief.

“How long must I remain in this place and hide from the captain and crew?” she asked wearily.

“A few more days. Once we are far enough out to sea so it will be impractical for the captain to return, only then shall we reveal your presence.”

Thorn stood at the wheel, expertly maneuvering the
Victorious
through the treacherous waters of the Golden Horn.

For some reason he had grown weary of the sea, and more and more he was becoming dissatisfied with his life. Lately his thoughts were often of his father, and Thorn wondered if he ever regretted the harsh words that had passed between them the night Thorn had left the family plantation, Stoddard Hill.

His mother had died when Thorn was just a young boy, so he and his father had become very close—at least until trouble had torn them apart—trouble in the guise of a woman. His mind traveled backward to the night it had all begun…

The ball had been held at the Burke mansion, and everyone in the county was in attendance. Thorn had just returned from a grand tour of Europe. He was basking in the attention of every available female, dancing with them all, old and young, while his father looked proudly upon his only son’s popularity.