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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

A Love for All Time (44 page)

BOOK: A Love for All Time
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Aidan scrambled to her feet. “Are ye all right, Meg?”
Margaret Browne looked at her friend through somewhat glazed eyes. “I am fine,” she said. “Perhaps, tired, but I am fine otherwise.”
Aidan had to ask. “Did the dey . . .” she began, but Meg cut her short.
“I am no longer a virgin,” Meg said softly. “He is not a young man, Aidan, but he is assuredly a potent one, and he was not unkind.”
Aidan took the girl into her arms, and hugged her gently. “If there is anything I can do for ye, or explain to ye, Meg, ye have but to ask. I would have done so last night, but they came so quickly for ye.”
“I am fine,” the blond girl repeated for a third time, “and I am resigned to spending the rest of my days here with my lord and master. I shall not see Kent ever again in this life. It is not the worst thing that could happen to me, Aidan. I might even have a child. The dey’s favorites are still producing children, and a child would mean the world to me. It would be something of my own, my family.”
Then Meg had curled up upon the mattress that Aidan had only recently vacated, and fallen asleep. When she awoke late in the day she seemed clearer-headed, and her blue eyes were no longer glazed, but her attitude had not changed. She had made up her mind to accept her captivity, and having done so was now content. “Ye must no longer call me Meg,” she said to Aidan later that afternoon. “Meg Browne no longer exists. The dey has said that my name is to be Sadira. It means the Dreamy One, and my lord says I am like a dream come true to him for I have brought back the feelings of his youth.”
It was one of the last things that the English girl said to Aidan for shortly afterward the head eunuch came for her to take her to her own apartment, for he said to Aidan pompously, “She has found great favor with her lord and master. May ye do the same with yours.” Aidan never saw Meg again.
The young eunuch who had been assigned to her was named Jinji and it was through him that her scant information came. He was a brown-skinned man with classical features, liquid dark eyes, and closely cropped black hair. He was far different looking than anyone Aidan had ever known but she thought him quite handsome. He had been gelded when he had been only three years old, he told her proudly, for the operation that took away his complete manhood was very dangerous, and over half the boys subjected to it died of it. Nevertheless it had rendered him twice as valuable as he would have been by merely having his seed sack removed. Then Jinji went on to show Aidan the beautifully carved tube through which he passed his water. It had been a gift from his former master who had been forced to sell him when he had come upon hard times.
Aidan was astounded, and she had to refrain from laughing for the whole situation was simply ludicrous. Barely less than a year ago she had been Lord Bliss’ sheltered daughter. She had thought that her stay at court before her marriage to Conn had opened her eyes to the world, but now she was finding that there were many things that she didn’t know, had not even dreamed of, had never even imagined existed. Oh, what wonderful tales she would have to tell when she returned home again, she thought, for she would not give up the hope of going back to England.
“We leave for Istanbul in the morning,” Jinji told her on the morning of her sixth day in Algiers, “and I am to go with you!” He was very excited for he had in effect received a promotion within the ranks of his hierarchy.
“What of the star chart that the famous astrologer, Osman, was doing to see if I was to be a fortuitous gift for the sultan?” she demanded of him.
“Oh,” Jinji said offhandedly, “it has been done, and Osman will be here this very afternoon to interpret it to you so you may understand your fate more clearly.”
“Am I to greet him as I am,” she said, “or have the promised clothes finally been made for me? Surely I am not to go to the sultan as I am?”
“Patience, copper-haired woman,” he counseled her. “Your new garments will arrive this very day, even before the great Osman has left his house.”
“How many times must I tell you that my name is Aidan, Jinji?” They conversed in French which was the only language that they knew in common.
“That name is what you are called in your old world, but when you reach Istanbul you will be named by the sultan or his agha kislar. It is a waste of my time to learn a name you will not use when you are to be given a new name shortly,” and nothing she could do would convince him otherwise.
When Osman arrived that afternoon Aidan greeted him garbed in a caftan of peacock-blue silk, which was one of her favorite colors. The sleeves of the garment were embroidered with four-inch bands of gold thread, tiny seed pearls, and crystal beads. There was a matching band about the hem of the caftan and about the rounded neckline before it opened to plunge between her lovely breasts. Upon her feet she wore heel-less sandals of gold kid. Jinji was a skilled hairdresser among other things, and he had brushed Aidan’s heavy hair back from her face, and woven it with gold ribbons and pearls into a long, sleek braid which hung down her neck.
“How lovely you look, my child,” he greeted her, and plumped himself comfortably amongst the cushions. Looking at Jinji who was busying himself in the hopes of hearing what Osman had to say, the astrologer said, “Get thee gone, eunuch, and do not bother to listen at the door. What I have to say is for this lady alone, and I will know if you have disobeyed me.”
Jinji reluctantly bowed to Osman, and hurriedly left the room. With someone else he might have ignored the warning, and placed his ear to the door, but the astrologer was known to have a second sight, and the eunuch would take no chances at turning away the good luck that had so recently begun to shine upon him.
Aidan looked anxiously at Osman. “Jinji says we are to leave tomorrow, Master Osman. Am I indeed to go to Istanbul? Will I not return to England?”
“You are indeed to go to Istanbul, my child, but do not fear for I see in your chart no prolonged contact with Sultan Murad.”
“What a pity I must go there at all,” Aidan remarked lightly, “if I am not to stay there.”
“I did not say that, my child. I said that you would not become involved deeply with the sultan, but there is someone else I see entering your life, a man, not your husband, but someone who will nonetheless have a strong hold upon you. For a time you will have no choice but to yield to this man, but beware him for he is the scorpion, and the scorpion can force the lioness to his will. I am not certain that you can overcome him. There is confusion in your chart, and something else I do not understand. There is rebirth.”
“What does it mean, Master Osman? Do you see Conn in my chart?”
“Yes, the Gemini is indeed there, but in the end, my child, it is you who must overcome your barriers. Your fate is in your hands, and yours alone. Others can only be of aid to you, but in the end
you
must gain the final victory.”
“Victory over what?” she asked him.
“I do not know, my child, but perhaps it is yourself.”
“Master Osman, you frighten me, and I looked to you for reassurance.”
“My child,” he said, and leaning across the small round table that separated them he patted her head, “the greatest truth I can tell you is that there is only one person in this world upon whom you may rely with complete confidence, and that person is yourself. You hold your fate in the palm of your hand. The stars can only tell so much, but each choice we face offers us two paths which we may follow. The path we walk determines our course. You have been very sheltered in your lifetime to not know that.”
“Yes,” she answered him, “I have been most sheltered.” For a few minutes they sat in companionable silence, and then Aidan asked, “Have you sent word to my sister-in-law, Master Osman?”
“I have,” he told her.
“Then Conn will come for me. Wherever I am he will find me, and we will be reunited.”
“You must hold that thought, my child,” Osman told her. “Remember what I have said. You are the helmsman of your fate, and you alone.”
She had relived that conversation over a hundred times in the days that had followed, but now as she focused her silvery eyes upon the domes and spires of the city of Istanbul she was afraid. From the sea she found the city a strange and beautiful place, yet it was foreign to her, and she wondered what fate it held for her.
“My lady.” Jinji was at her elbow.
“Yes?”
“My lady, you must come with me to your quarters so I may prepare you to go ashore.”
Without another word Aidan turned and followed the young eunuch back to her cabin. The ship upon which they had traveled was a large commercial galley that the dey had hired to transport his tribute to his master. Its chief power was the wind that filled its sails, but it also carried a crew of oarsmen to row should it be necessary, though it had not been this trip. These oarsmen were not slaves, but rather sailors who earned their living on the rowing bench, and the owner of the galley preferred them to slaves for they worked of their own free will, and therefore there was no chance of his losing a cargo through rebellion.
The entire ship had been booked by the dey to transport his gifts to his master. Below, and carefully secured, were a full dozen perfect Arabian mares and a magnificent golden Arabian stallion. There were also two pairs of lion-hunting dogs from south of the great desert, and two pairs of long-haired salukis, the graceful and swift hunting dogs of the Arabs. There was a marvelous clock from France made of pure gold, and inlaid with precious stones that the dey had commissioned for the sultan whose hobbies were painting and clockmaking. There was a saddle tooled of the best moroccon leather with a matching bridle for the stallion. The bridle had a solid gold bit, and was decorated with semiprecious stones. The saddle was worked with gold leaf, and the stirrups, like the bit, were of pure gold. There were a full hundred healthy, strong young male slaves, all Portuguese ; two perfectly matched pigeon’s-blood rubies the size of small lemons; three identical female dwarfs; a pair of black panthers; a bag of perfectly matched pink pearls each one the size of a cherry; and Aidan. A full dozen gifts in all.
Aidan had grown quite used to the comfortable and beautiful garments that were worn by the upper-class Turkish woman. These consisted of baggy trousers which were tight at the ankle, a sheer blouse over which was worn a slash-skirted dress with long sleeves and a low-cut neckline beneath which the delicate fabric of the blouse showed, and tied about her hips a lovely embroidered shawl. Jinji had told Aidan that when she found favor with the sultan she would probably be given gifts of jeweled belts that she would wear instead. Now as they prepared to leave the ship Jinji helped his mistress into a garment that he called a feridje. It was made of pale lavender silk lined with pale mauve silk, and it covered her from her head to her feet. Carefully Jinji fastened a veil across the bridge of her nose successfully muffling Aidan to all who might dare to gaze upon a chosen woman. Only her eyes were visible to the bold.
She could hear upon the deck the sounds of the sailors making the galley fast to the dock; the thump of the gangway as it was lowered from the ship’s deck to the land. Jinji tugged at her sleeve.
“Come, my lady. You are to be the first ashore before the animals and the dwarfs. There will be a litter from the palace awaiting you on the shore.”
Taking a final look about the cabin which had been her shelter these last few weeks, Aidan followed Jinji from the room, and back out onto the deck. There she found the captain awaiting them. He bowed low to her.
“My lady,” he said in accented French, “I hope your voyage has been a comfortable one, and that you will remember us kindly.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “It has been most pleasant.” Pleasant, she thought, considering that I am entering slavery.
“May Allah guard you, and guide you along your path,” the captain said, and then he moved away to direct the unloading of the horses.
“Look! Look! Did I not tell you?” Jinji exclaimed excitedly. “There is an imperial litter upon the dock!” He helped Aidan down the gangway, and hurried her over to it. There were four bearers seated on the ground awaiting their passenger, and a rather bored-looking eunuch who arose to his feet at their approach.
“I am Omar,” said the eunuch. He spoke in Turkish, and that much Aidan understood for Jinji had been tutoring her these last weeks. “Is this the slavewoman from the Dey of Algiers?”
“This is she,” said Jinji, “and I am her eunuch, Jinji.”
“You are not to be returned?”
“No, I am to remain with my lady.”
“What is her name?”
“She has not been named yet. The dey thought that the sultan would enjoy naming her.”
“The sultan has more important things to do than to name a slavegirl. I expect that Ilban Bey will do that.”
“Who is Ilban Bey?”
“You do not know who the illustrious Ilban Bey is? You really are from the ends of the earth,” said Omar scornfully. “Ilban Bey is the agha kislar of Sultan Murad’s household. It is he who will decide if this woman sent by the dey is even worthy of being entered into our master’s harem, but we must not stand here talking. Help your mistress into the litter.”
As Jinji did so he said to Aidan, “How much of that did you understand, my lady?”
“Enough,” she replied in French, “to know that Omar is an insufferable little slug.”
Jinji smiled broadly. “My lady is wise,” he replied, and he fluffed the pillows behind her back. “Remember what I have told you, copper-haired woman. There is a hierarchy within the harem, and you are on the lowest level of that hierarchy. Be deferential, and modest, and I will be able to advance you once I have learned the lay of this land.” He drew the gauze draperies shut on the litter.
A moment later she felt the vehicle raised, and the four black slaves with their heavy gold collars which were studded with pearls and semiprecious stones, began the journey back to the royal palace which was called the Yeni Serai. She had noticed that other than their collars, and their baggy red silk trousers they wore no other clothing or shoes. She could hear the thick slap, slap, of their feet upon the ground, and she thought that the soles of those feet must be like leather itself.
BOOK: A Love for All Time
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