The Kadin (15 page)

“Of course. Cats were the favorite animal of the Prophet. Are we friends now?”

“Yes,” whispered the other girl. There were tears in her eyes. “I have been so lonely. You, Firousi, and Zuleika have been friends from the beginning, and Amara and Iris seemed to fall in so easily with one another. I know I have a sharp tongue, but I don’t mean to be unkind. The words just pop out. Will you forgive me for being so mean?”

Cyra was taken aback by the girl’s emotional outburst “Of course we are friends. I know you don’t mean what you say when you snap. Things will be better now.”

Sarina rose, clutching her kittens. ‘It is late, and you must get your sleep, expecially now. May I come again?”

“You are welcome at any time, and
thank you,”
said Cyra meaningfully.

Left to herself, the Scots girl called to Marian, who helped ready her for bed. Then, dismissing her slave, who she knew was eager to join her husband, Cyra lay alone in the vast bed, hot silent tears sliding down her cheeks.

18

A
LTHOUGH
C
YRA
no longer snared Selim’s bed she still spent much time with him. The mornings were taken up by the prince’s administrative duties. Once each week he held a court of judgment, allowing the people of his province to bring their grievances before him to be settled. Conscious of the fact that the child she carried was an imperial heir, and conscious also of the strong possibility that one day she might be the sultan valideh, Cyra frequently attended these courts in order to see Muslim law in action. Heavily dressed in her feridje and jasmak, she sat concealed by a carved screen behind Selim’s throne, attended by Marian and the faithful Arslan.

All phases of the law interested her, but she found its treatment of women fascinating. Compared with Christian Europe, it was far more enlightened and fair.

One day there came before Selim a woman of about forty. Kneeling before the prince, she stated her case.

“I am called Cervi, my lord. At the age of fifteen I was married by my father to a young merchant, Razi Abu. I bore him two sons and a daughter. I have been a faithful and obedient wife these twenty-five years. Four months ago Razi Abu divorced me so he might marry a dancing girl he saw in a tavern. I bow to my husband’s will, my lord, but he has cast me penniless into the streets. He will not return my bride price to me, and I must beg for my very bread. I plead for justice, my lord. The bride price is mine under the law.”

“This is true,” replied the prince, “but have you no one to whom you might turn? What of your sons and your daughter?”

“My daughter is married and Uves in Constantinople, Prince Selim, As for my sons, they, too, are wed, and live with their wives and children within their father’s house. He has forbidden them to aid me, though they would if they could.”

The prince nodded. “Is the merchant Razi Abu in the court?”

“Razi Abu,” called the court chamberlain, “come forward.” The crowd stood silent.

Selim turned to his captain of the guard. “Go to the house of the merchant Razi Abu and fetch him, his wives, and all his children here. On your way, escort the lady Cervi to the small anteroom off the court, where she may wait in privacy.”

While the court buzzed in anticipation, Selim turned slightly and spoke softly. “Cyra, see the woman is fed. She looks as if she has been starving.”

“Yes, my lord. And perhaps I might give her some clothing. Her garments are in rags.”

“Good girl,” he answered.

Cyra left her hiding place and hurried to the harem. Arslan was dispatched to bring Cervi, who came trembling before the prince’s wife.

“Do not be frightened,” Cyra told the woman kindly.

Cervi had no time to be afraid, for she was whisked into the harem bath, scrubbed, and massaged by Cyra’s own slaves. Then she was fed a delicious meal of hot rice pilaf, lamb kebabs, honey and almond cakes and, finally, dressed in clean, fresh clothes. Then, taking the woman’s hand, Cyra hurried her out of the women’s quarters and through the halls of the palace to the hidden chamber behind Selim’s throne.

“You will not be called until your husband has stated his case, but here we may listen and observe.”

The merchant had not yet arrived, and Selim was judging another case. It involved a jeweler who had several shops in Constantinople but lived on a large estate within Selim’s province. The man was protesting his taxes.

“But, Highness, I am a citizen of Naples.”

“Do you own land there?”

“No, my lord.”

“Do you have any business there?”

“No, my lord.”

“Do you pay taxes there?”

The jeweler hesitated, but Selim looked at him sternly.

“No, my lord.”

“When were you last there?”

“I was born there, my lord. My parents brought me to Constantinople when I was two.”

“And when were you last there?”

“Not since I was two.”

The crowded court rocked with laughter.

“So,” said Selim, “you have not seen the place of your birth since you were two. You neither own land, nor do business, nor pay taxes there. Yet you claim to be a citizen of Naples. Do you speak the tongue?”

“Badly, my lord,” the jeweler said, shuffling his feet nervously.

“By Allah!” roared Selim. “You are a fraud! Now listen to me, Carlo Giovanni. The Koran states that those who follow not the religion of truth must pay both a head tax and a land tax. Until his death three years ago, your father paid both these taxes for his family. You are a non-Muslim living in a Muslim country. You are allowed all the privileges of its citizens, including the right to worship Allah freely in your own manner without harassment. But as a non-Muslim, you
must
pay your taxes! I could have you stripped of your shops and other properties, but I shall be merciful. You must pay your back taxes in full, plus a fine of three thousand gold dinars, which you will personally distribute, under my eye, to the poor of this province. And do not whine that you cannot afford it, for I know you can. If it comes to my ear again, however, that you have tried to cheat the government, I shall regret my leniency and deal harshly not only with you but with your entire family.”

White-faced with relief, the jeweler kissed the hem of the prince’s robe and hurried from the court. He had barely fled when the door opened to admit the captain of the guard, who escorted Razi Abu and his household.

“The hussy!” hissed Cervi. “She wears my dowry jewels.”

Selim watched Razi Abu arrogantly approach his throne. He was a small, portly man with eyes like black currants. He was dressed in the finest brocade, and his white silk turban held a sapphire the size of a peach pit, His well-trimmed beard smelled heavily of scented oil, and his pudgy fingers were heavy with rings. He was, to the casual observer, the picture of respectability; but Selim, looking more closely, saw the small, broken blue veins along his nose which indicated a secret drinker. The merchant’s bow was inadequate.

“Do you know why you are called here?” questioned the prince.

“No, my lord.”

“The lady Cervi, whom you divorced, claims you have refused to return her bride price and that you cast her out penniless, even forbidding her sons to aid her. All this is forbidden by the holy Koran.”

“Highness, the old woman spent her bride price years ago. Age has addled her wits, and she remembers not.”

Selim heard a snort from among the veiled women.

“But why,” he continued, “did you forbid her sons the right to aid her!”

“They could aid her if they chose. A viper’s bite is gentler than an ungrateful son,” replied the merchant smoothly.

Another snort.

“Who makes that noise?” demanded the prince.

Silence.

“If you do not speak, how may I judge this case fairly? I will protect the teller of truth.”

A heavily veiled woman stepped forward. “I am Dipti, the second wife of Razi Abu. He lies, my lord. Cervi’s bride price was not spent by her. He gave it, along with my bride price and the bride price of his two other wives, Hatije and Medji, to
her
for her bride price.” She pointed at a tall figure in an exquisite lavender silk feridje.

Selim noted that the other women wore the plain black alpaca feridje of the poor.

“Then,” continued Dipti, “he threatened to disinherit Cervi’s sons if they helped her. What could they do, my lord? They and their families live within our house. They work for their father and have nothing of their own.”

The prince frowned. “These are grave charges, Razi Abu. What have you to say?”

“They are all jealous of my precious Bosfor, my lord prince. This flower of springtime has brought me happiness in my old age. She is naught but gentle and loving.”

“Hah,” snapped Dipti. “Listen to me, my lord. For his gentle and loving Bosfor, he has robbed us all. Before she came into our house, each of us had, as the law allows, our own quarters, our own conveniences for cooking and sleeping, our own slaves. Now Hatije, Medji, and I are crammed into two small rooms because Cervi’s quarters were not large enough for Bosfor, and Razi Abu must rebuild the harem to suit her. Our slaves were taken from us so she might have more and now just one old crone waits upon us. Any jewelry of value that we had has disappeared, to reappear on her person. We have not dared to complain for fear of being cast out like poor Cervi.”

“Will any of the others substantiate your charges, Lady Dipti?”

Hatije and Medji stepped forward. “We do, my lord.”

A young man moved before the prince. “I am Jafar, my lord, the son of Cervi and eldest of all Razi Abu’s sons. The women speak the truth. They have been treated most shamefully—my mother worst of all Our father has never been an easy man, but until he met this Bosfor he at least treated his family with respect Had he taken the woman as a concubine, we would not have minded. Since she has come, we are all mistreated. Any imagined offense to her is reported to our father, and the offender is severely punished. We are in fear of our lives.” He stepped back among his brothers.

The prince’s eyes found Bosfor. He motioned to her to step forward. “I would hear what you have to say.”

The lavender figure glided to the foot of his dais and sank into a graceful bow. Slowly she raised her liquid brown eyes to him.

“Why, the bitch,” said Cyra softly. “She dares to flirt with him.”

The woman’s features were vague behind her sheer veil. Selim reached down and flicked it away. The face smiling up at him was the artfully decorated one of a whore. She was about seventeen. Selim was repelled, for he detested brazen women, but he did not show his feelings.

“Gracious prince.” The voice was husky and low. “These charges are but the ravings of jealous old women and greedy sons overeager for their inheritance.”

“Could you not have been content to be a pampered concubine? Surely you are not so ignorant that you did not know that in order for you to be married to Razi Abu, he must divorce one of his faithful wives. This would seem to me a hardhearted thing to do.”

“I am a respectable woman, my lord.”

“Hah,” snorted Dipti.

Bosfor turned on her. “Old hag! You’ll regret your meddling. I am to bear my lord a son.”

“Aiyee! You add adultery to your other crimes!”

“Hold!” shouted the prince over the uproar. The room quieted. “Lady Dipti, these are serious charges you make. The law states that there must be four witnesses to such a charge. If you cannot provide proof, I must sentence you to eighty lashes. Do you wish to withdraw your charge?”

Bosfor smirked smugly at the older woman. “She has no proof, and she has besmirched my good name. She must be punished, the gossiping old crone.”

“There is proof.”

“No!”

“Yes! Bosfor moved into our house four months ago when Razi Abu divorced Cervi, though he could not marry her until a month ago. In all that time she has had no show of blood.”

The prince smiled gently. “Sometimes, Lady Dipti, eager lovers consummate a marriage before the formalities. Could this not be the case with Bosfor and Razi Abu?”

Behind the dais Cervi squeezed Cyra’s hand. “Oh, Allah! Poor Razi Abu. When Dipti is angry, nothing can stop her tongue. She will tell all.”

Cyra glanced at the merchant, whose complexion had turned a sickly shade of green. Feeling a stab of pity, she whispered to Selim, “Clear the court, my lord, else the merchant will be shamed publicly. His crime is not that great”

Selim nodded and gave the order. Only Razi Abu and his family remained. Lady Cervi was brought back to the court

Dipti drew a deep breath. “Razi Abu can no longer wield his weapon, my lord prince, and has not been able to these past five years. A severe fever killed his potency. He is as useless as a eunuch. But that is not all. When Bosfor had been in our house but a few weeks, five of the women sought her out to reason with her. As we reached her chamber door, we heard a man’s voice and, peeking in, saw this shameless creature lying naked upon her couch with a man. We have watched her closely ever since, and twice more the same man has visited her in secret”

Selim turned to Razi Abu. “Is what she says true?”

Sadly the merchant nodded.

“You cast out a faithful wife to marry with this woman who cuckolds you beneath your own roof and is to bear another man’s child? Why?”

The merchant was close to tears. “I did not know it until after I had made her my wife. When I learned of her condition and said I would cast her out she threatened to make public my infirmity.”

“This does not excuse your cruelty to the lady Cervi, so I sentence you thusly. First you will return to her her bride price. Secondly, you will pay her ten times that amount in damages, and she will be allowed to return to your house to collect all her personal possessions and jewelry. Thirdly, you will sign over two-thirds of your business to your sons. And, lastly, I sentence you to one year in prison for so flagrantly breaking the law of the Koran. Had you been younger, I should have sent you to the galleys. You are a selfish and thoughtless man, Razi Abu. Perhaps a year in prison will give you the time yon need to meditate on these sins, and you will return home in a year’s time a kinder and more compassionate man.”

Razi Abu turned angrily to Bosfor.

“No!” she screamed “You cannot! My child will be born a bastard”

Slowly the merchant intoned, “I dismiss thee. I dismiss thee. I dismiss thee.”

“You are legally divorced, Bosfor,” said Selim. “Now hear your punishment according to the Koran. You have been proved an adulteress. You will be taken from this place to the public square in the village. There, stripped naked, you will be given one hundred lashes. However, I am a merciful man, and the fruit of your sin is innocent of any wrongdoing, so I will delay your sentence until the child is born. Until then you will be lodged in the village prison.”

“My lord, have pity! Such a beating will kill me! What will become of my child?”

“It will be placed with a childless couple.” He signaled the guards. “Take them away. The court is over for this week.”