The Kadin (25 page)

Selim, supping with his captains, drank from a goblet of black amber circled with gold flowers. To his amusement, the golden inscription identified it as the property of Shah Ismail. Selim had also appropriated the Persian ruler’s belt and armlet—plates of gold set on iron and held together with a woven red-and-blue fabric

The night was not so merry for Ismail. Quartered under heavy guard in a small tent, he wept bitterly, not for the battle lost but for Tacli Harum. His beautiful young wife, along with her fortune in jewels, had been given as a slave to the sultan’s handsome second son, Prince Mohammed.

In the sultan’s private quarters, however, the scene was even sadder. Two biers stood upon the thick carpets of the private salon. Upon one rested the body of Cyra’s seventeen-year-old son, Kasim. She had washed and dressed his body herself, allowing no one else to touch him. Gently she had brushed his dark-brown hair for the last time, and had wept, remembering the child he had been, the man he would never be

She had gazed deeply into his vacant, dark-blue eyes, but he was gone. The eyes had stared back at her, seeing nothing. The spark that had given Kasim life had flown. Sadly she had drawn the heavily lashed lids closed, and, ripping her garments, had slipped to the floor, weeping bitterly.

It was here Suleiman had found her. Lifting her up, he had brushed the tangled hair from her face, kissed the tears on her cheeks, and led her to her room

Crouched by the second bier in stony-faced silence, Zuleika mourned. Her second son, Abdullah, had perished this day at the age of sixteen. Zuleika’s thoughts were not, however, of her son. They were of revenge, and she now knew what form that vengeance would take. Persia had humiliated her, and she would humiliate Persia in a way it would not forget.

She rose and gazed down at the still, ivory features. He had died honorably, and perhaps it was better this way. The kadins had always hoped to end the cruel slaughter of the reigning sultan’s brothers, but who really knew what would happen when Suleiman became sultan? Power changes people, as Zuleika well knew.

Cyra, Firousi, and Sarina still clung to some of their Western ethics, but she, born in the East, knew the dangers of too many heirs, and the wisdom of their speedy demise. There would always be discontent between ruler and ruled, but the fewer roads to rebellion, the less chance of it

“He was brave, my brother, Abdullah.”

She turned to face Suleiman. “Cyra?”

“My mother sleeps, thanks to the juice of the poppy, and so should you, dear aunt Tomorrow we leave for Tabriz. You would not wish to be weary when my father passes judgment on the Persian heretics.” Their eyes locked for a moment

“We understand each other, o son of Selim. Praise Allah, you are more a Turk than a Westerner.”

“The Scots have never been noted for their mercy in blood feuds, Zuleika Kadin.”

“You are a Turk,” she replied firmly and, kissing him on the cheek, left him.

He stood, puzzled, for a minute and then, shrugging, walked out of the pavilion into the moonless night.

30

T
HE SHAH’S PALACE
at Tabriz was brightly lit, and its throne room was filled to capacity with the entire Persian court. The Persians were frightened and the sultan knew it He also knew the first thing he would do after allowing Zuleika her revenge would be to ruthlessly stamp out the heretical Shiite sect adhered to by Ismail and his followers.

The Turkish soldiers had found hiding in the town a French Jesuit priest who claimed to be the representative of the French king, Louis XII. Selim let him go unharmed, but wondered if perhaps the European Christians were not secretly encouraging the split between the Muslims.

Seated on the Peacock Throne, the sultan was a resplendent and frightening figure. His black silk robe was embroidered with gold tulips, and he wore a cloth-of-gold turban set with a pigeon’s-blood ruby. At his feet reclined his kadins; Cyra in peach-and-gold silks and gauze, Zuleika in amethyst and silver. Nearby stood Suleiman, Mohammed and Murad.

Before the sultan stood the young shah. “I do not ask mercy for myself, my lord, but for my mother and the other ladies of my court.”

“I do not war with women, boy,” said Selim.

The shah flushed. Then you agree to grant them safe conduct?”

“Nor do I make treaties with boys. Especially those whose foolish fathers could not even distinguish between slave girl and princess.”

“You speak in riddles, Sultan Selim.”

The sultan smiled “Perhaps I do, but you will help me solve this riddle, boy.” He clapped his hands, and the guards escorted a small, richly dressed woman into the room. The Persian court bowed as she passed through them to the foot of the throne.

“Mother!” cried the shah. The soldiers restrained him.

“Zuleika.” The sultan nodded to his kadin, who rose languidly from her place and, moving gracefully, stood beside the Persian queen. “Now, my boy,” said Selim, “before you stand two women. One was born a princess, the other a slave. Can you tell me which is which?”

“Is this a joke, my lord?”

“No, Shah Ismail. It is a riddle.”

“There is no riddle! My mother was born Princess Plum Jade of Cathay.”

“Like your father, Shah Ismail, you accept the obvious too quickly. Zuleika!”

“My lord Selim?”

“Face this women and unveil yourself.”

Zuleika raised a slim hand to her veil. It fell from her proud face and slipped silently to the floor. The eyes of the Persian queen widened in horror, and with a terrified shriek she fell to the floor crying, “Mercy, mistress! Mercy, I beg of you!”

Brushing aside the sultan’s guards, the shah rushed to his mother’s side and frantically tried to raise her. “It is your victory,” he said to Selim. “She is frightened. She has always been a nervous woman.”

“Well she might be,” replied the sultan. “Hark to me, Shah Ismail! I am going to tell you a true story.”

The boy ruler managed to get his mother settled among some cushions, where she continued to tremble and sob softly.

Selim began, his rich voice holding all the hall “Twenty-two years ago, a young princess left Cathay with a large caravan guarded by the emperor’s soldiers. She was to be married to the king of a neighboring country. At the border between the two countries, her intended husband’s soldiers replaced her brother’s, and all the servants, with the exception of one slave girl, returned to Cathay.

“Unfortunately for the princess, her royal husband-to-be had a beautiful but evil concubine who had secretly left her harem and ridden out with the soldiers to get a look at the royal bride. This woman wielded great influence over the king. She feared that a younger. more beautiful and intelligent girl—especially a queen—could destroy her power. She decided to see the bride before her lord did, and, if necessary, dispose of her.

“Greeting the princess warmly and with honeyed words, she found her worst fears confirmed. Not only was the maiden young and exquisitely fair, but she was highly intelligent Acting swiftly, that evening the concubine slipped a powerful sleeping draft into the princess’s cup, and in the night two soldiers, bribed by this wicked woman, took the princess, whom they believed to be a slave, overland to Baghdad, where she was sold in the poorest slave market.

“Fortunately, the princess was purchased by the agha kislar of my father’s household. He was passing by on his way out of the city, and immediately recognized a priceless pearl among the common stones. Meanwhile, the concubine substituted the bride’s slave girl as her lord’s bride.”

At this point the Persian queen began to wail and rip her garments.

“Miserable pawn of dog offal,” hissed Zuleika in their Chinese dialect “control yourself! You would be a queen, now act like one—if not for your son’s sake, then for my family’s name, which you have usurped!”

“Oh, mistress,” wept the woman in the same dialect
“she
made me do it! She said I would die a horrible death if I didn’t I was alone in a strange land, and frightened. I did not want to die.”

“And you thought we should never meet again, eh, Mai Tze?”

“I have suffered for my evil. The old shah hated me and my plainness. Our marriage was not consummated for almost five years. Only when he became convinced by his advisers that his people would accept only a legitimate heir did he come to me. Then he returned to
her
bed! She even wields more influence over Ismail than I do. Do not I beg of you, kill me!”

“Do you think I would avenge myself on so insignificant a creature as you?” snapped Zuleika. “It is Shannez I have come for. And, in Allah’s name, get off your knees and stand up!”

The queen struggled to her feet and stood cowering before the sultan, who now took up the thread of his story.

“When I was twenty-five, my father honored me by allowing me to choose six virgins from his own harem so that I might set up my own household. One of the maidens I picked was Princess Plum Jade—called Zuleika by our people—the very Zuleika who stands before you now, the mother of three of my sons. This woman you call ‘queen’—the wife of your late king and the mother of Shah Ismail—is nothing more than a baseborn slave named Mai Tze!”

The throne room exploded into an uproar, and the queen fell into a faint as the Persian courtiers moved angrily toward her. Selim’s soldiers forcibly restrained the threatening crowd as two slaves rushed to revive the fallen woman with rosewater.

“Silence!”
thundered the sultan. The room quieted. “You owe this poor creature a great debt She is not the villain here. Slave or no, she was your king’s legal wife and is the mother of Shah Ismail. Had she not gone along with the deception, Cathay would have destroyed you, and the old shah would have died childless.

“She will retain her place in this court with all its honors. I, Selim Khan, command it” He glared down from his throne at the roomful of muttering Persians. “Now I shall deal with the one truly responsible. Bring the lady Shannez to me.”

Proudly she entered the silent room, walked to the foot of the throne, prostrated herself, and then rose to face Selim boldly. She was tall for a woman, slender, and although well into her forties, looked like a girl in her mid-twenties. Her skin was a clear, light olive. Her hair, which was dressed high on her head, giving her a queenly look, was blue-black and showed no gray. Her eyes were glowing jets. She wore a simple plum-colored silk robe, no jewelry except heavy gold earrings, and was unveiled.

Selim gazed at the cold, sensuous face. His eyes moved slowly to the faintly visible pulse in her throat to the high, cone-shaped breasts, the glimpse of a slim leg.

Zuleika, noting her lord’s interested gaze, leaned forward and whispered, “Do not deny me vengeance, my lord. Remember our two sons dead by Persia’s hand.”

“It shall be as you wish, my tigress.” He smiled grimly. “Lady Shannez, I present to you my bas-kadin, the lady Cyra. You have, of course, met my third wife, the lady Zuleika.”

“The sultan is mistaken,” came the smooth, cool voice. “I have never met either of his wives.”

“It is you who are mistaken, Lady Shannez. I imagine it gave you great pleasure to dispose of Princess Plum Jade. No doubt you thought her dead these many years, or perhaps some desert savage’s slave. Zuleika, my love, raise your face to the lady Shannez so she may better look upon you.”

The kadin obeyed her lord’s command. Shannez blanched deathly white but, recovering quickly, looked Zuleika straight in the eye, laughed softly, and said, “So, you’re not dead. Your kismet must be very strong, and here you are to take your vengeance. Very well. I have lived a good life.”

“I shall not kill you. Oh, no, Shannez! I shall show you the same mercy you snowed me! However, I shall leave nothing to chance, as you so foolishly did.” Zuleika gazed at the woman coldly, then turned to a guard. “Bring the man!”

Every eye in the room turned toward the door through which the guard had exited. He returned quickly, bringing with him an incredibly ugly, powerfully built little man, deformed by a hump on his left shoulder. The creature wore nothing but a loincloth and a small, dirty turban which perched on his head like a fallen cake. He was missing one eye, and the other eye moved swiftly to and fro in his head, taking in everything around him

The heat of the crowded room had already brought forth the stench of nervous bodies, but the misshapen man brought a far stronger odor with him. Flinging himself on his face at the foot of the throne, he cried in a harsh voice, “Oh, lord, may you reign over us forever!”

“Rise,” commanded the sultan.

The man scrambled to his feet

“Your name?”

“Abu, my sultan.”

“You are my slave?”

“Yes, most gracious lord.”

“What is your work, Abu?”

“I sweep and shovel dung in my lord’s stables.”

Selim glanced quickly at Zuleika, an expression of gleeful admiration in his eyes. “You have done your work well, Abu. Your diligence has not gone unnoticed. The head groom tells me my stables are a place of beauty.” Here Selim stopped and muffled a laugh. “Such devotion shall not go unrewarded This day I grant you your freedom on the condition you remain in my service for one year. At the end of that year, you will be paid twelve gold pieces and may go where you please or continue to remain with my household”

Abu fell to his knees and, clutching the hem of the sultan’s robe, kissed it

“Wait Abu. There is more. A free man needs a woman to look after his needs. This woman was the favorite of the old shah. Many years ago, she caused great harm to the lady Zuleika.”

“The mother of little Prince Nureddin?”

“You know my son?”

“Yes, great lord He comes to the stables to ride his pony. He gives me sweetmeats and figs. He is my friend. Shall I kill this woman for you, lord?”

“No, Abu. I have graciously granted her her life, but because you have been loyal to me, I give her to you as a slave. She is yours forever. Teach her your loyalty, and use her as you will.”

In his whole lifetime Abu had possessed a woman only on a few occasions. His lowly rank, his occupation, and his own personal appearance left precious few who were willing to associate with the sweeper of dung. His good eye took in the beautiful woman who his lord had said was his. Selim was not known for practical jokes, so it must be true. “Oh, great sultan! The ages will speak of your generosity toward your humble servant Abu.”

He turned to Shannez. “Come, slave!”

“Approach me, vile animal, and I will kill you,” she hissed

The humpback raised an arm and smashed her to the floor. Grasping her limp arm with his talonlike fingers, he half dragged the woman from the room.

For a moment the hall quivered in stunned silence, then Selim spoke. “You have seen my mercy toward one who would betray an emperor’s true daughter. I granted her life. My vengeance is far more terrible to behold.

“There is but one true God, Allah, And Mohammed, may his name be blessed, is His true Prophet Is there any of you who would deny this? Who among you mourns Husayn and follows the teachings of the Shia?” No one spoke. “I will strike down without mercy those who mock the one God and His Prophet be it man, or woman, or child!

“I will spare you, Shah Ismail, because, having led your people from the true path of Allah, it is up to you to lead them back. Those who will not publicly recant this heresy shall die. I, Selim Khan, have spoken!”

The sultan then rose from the throne and walked from the room, followed by his two wives. Out of hearing of the others, he turned to Zuleika. “Are you satisfied, my blossom? Your vengeance was quite diabolical. I never knew you to be quite so ferocious. Have you been so unhappy with me?”

The Chinese woman caught the sultan’s hand and brought it to her forehead, her lips, and finally to her heart “For twenty-two years I have lived for you, and then for our children. Never have I known an unhappy moment with you, never have I had an unkind word from you—but never have I forgotten what that woman did to me. That her treachery brought me unspeakable happiness mattered not—only that she dared to lay hands upon a daughter of the emperor of China. My family is as great in their land as yours in ours. Would you not have done the same thing had you been in my place, my dearest lord?”

Selim put his arm about Zuleika, drew her close, and kissed her gently. “Yes, my tigress, I would have done the same. And now is your soul purged of its bile?”

“Not quite, my lord, but that small bit that remains I can exorcise quickly.”

“I will leave you to do so.” He turned and strode off down the tiled corridor.

Cyra had been standing quietly in the shadows. Zuleika moved to her side and asked, “Will you come with me? What I must see may be horrible, but I must know that Shannez is completely humbled before I can be satisfied.”

Cyra nodded. They moved through several corridors, down a flight of stairs, finally reaching a small door that opened into the stableyards of the shah’s palace. Here, Abu, the sweeper of dung, had been quartered. Immediately on entering the open court, they heard screams of outrage. Zuleika smiled.