A Love for All Time (58 page)

“My Selim then became his father’s only heir. From his birth his mother had doted upon him, and spoilt him. He was short whereas his brothers were tall. He was plump while they were slender. He was shortsighted whereas they had good vision, and as a youth he was spotty, a fact he later disguised with a beard but even here he was lacking for his beard was a thin and stringy one. In appearance my Selim very much resembled his great-uncle Ahmet, but in personality he was quite like another great-uncle, the scholarly Korkut. He was simply not cut out to be a ruler, a fact which Khurrem refused to acknowledge while she went about ruthlessly removing any possible competition to her eldest son.

“The plain truth is that my husband was ruined by his power-seeking mother. He was weak-willed and vacillating. He had no sense of majesty, but what was worse he was more cut out to be a simple man than a great one. His mother wanted it that way for she intended to rule through her son as she already half-ruled through her husband. She died, however, long before Selim inherited his royal mantle, and her inheritance to this empire was a son, unfit to rule; a spoilt, superstitious child in the guise of a man. It was a blessing to this land that his reign was a most mercifully short one, and that my son, Murad, is like his grandfather Suleiman, and his great-grandfather, Selim I, an able ruler.

“And that, Marjallah, is the official story of my husband’s life and reign. History already knows him as Selim the Sot, a Muslim who went against his own holy law, and was a drunkard. For me, however, it was a different story. Like Safiye I was little more than a child when I was brought to the Yeni Serai. My parents were Circassian royalty, and I was sent, like you, as part of a tribute to Sultan Suleiman. I was trained as all girls who enter the harem are trained, and then I was assigned the task of bath attendant to Prince Selim. It was in his bath that he first noticed me. He was recovering from the effects of a night of too much forbidden wine, and it was I who kept changing the cool cloths upon his head.

“At his request I was made a guzdeh, which means I was
in his glance.
I was given my own little room, and a slave to wait upon me. It was not long before I was called to his bed, escorted there fearful and trembling despite all my instruction from the old women of the harem. When my Selim saw my fright he immediately set about to reassure me. He was the most gentle and considerate of lovers, and never was he in his cups when he called for me. I did grow to love him. Yes, even before I conceived my son who was my husband’s firstborn son although he had fathered several daughters before Murad was born. I was given the title of bas kadin upon Murad’s birth, and although my dear lord took others to his bed over his short life, I remained his favorite. He was not a bad man whatever history may say of him,” she finished.

“It seems to me that you brought Sultan Selim II great happiness, my lady valideh,” said Aidan.

Nur-U-Banu smiled, and patted Aidan’s hand. “As I hope you will bring happiness to Prince Javid Khan, but you most obviously already have since he has married you this day. This is a fortunate thing for you, my dear Marjallah, for it will give you stature amongst his other wives and women when you return with him to the Crimea someday.”

“There are no others, nor children either,” said Aidan, and then she told the sultan valideh and Safiye the story of Javid Khan’s great tragedy.

Nur-U-Banu nodded when she had finished. “It is indeed a terrible thing for the prince, but it is a wonderful piece of luck for you, Marjallah ! He obviously loves you having made you his wife. Now bear him sons, and your fortune is made no matter how large a harem he rebuilds.”

“Which you may be assured he will,” said Safiye with a trace of bitterness in her voice.

“What do you care?” snapped Nur-U-Banu to Safiye. “It is your son, Memhet, who is his father’s heir. You bore him no other children despite your exclusive hold upon my son all those years. One Ottoman prince was not enough! Besides it is not in the nature of a man to cleave to only one woman. When will you accept that?”

“I will never accept it!” cried Safiye. “Never!”

“Bah! You waste your life in bitterness, my daughter. Do not be a fool. Accept what Allah has given you, and be grateful for it. Do you know how many women would love to be in your position? Memhet, praise Allah, is a strong and healthy boy already looking at the slavegirls with a lustful eye. One day you will be in my slippers, Safiye. Love is a good thing, but power is a better one,” and Nur-U-Banu laughed.

When the sultan’s mother and his favorite departed in the early evening with the sultan, and the other guests, Aidan repeated this conversation to Javid Khan as they lay together upon his couch. He had positioned her between his long legs, her back against his chest, so he might avail himself of her beautiful breasts. Even now as they spoke he fondled those glorious orbs of milky flesh.

“Yes, they war against each other within the harem walls, it is said. They are two very strong women, but as long as Sultan Murad lives, or his mother, it is she who will rule the women, and her son’s heart first above all others.”

“Why does Safiye dislike Nur-U-Banu?” Aidan wondered. “She seems like a good woman to me. I like her.”

“Do you like Safiye, too?”

“Of course. She is close to my age, and like a friend.”

“Good, my jewel. Take no sides between them else you get caught in the crossfire. Safiye Kadin resents the valideh because it is Nur-U-Banu who insisted that her son take other women. For many years he confined his attentions in monogamous fashion to Safiye, but she only produced one child, Prince Memhet. The Ottoman dynasty could not be safe with just one heir, and as time went by it became obvious that Safiye could not produce any more children despite her as yet youthful age.

“Nur-U-Banu and the vizier finally convinced the sultan to favor other women; but when he at last agreed to their pleadings he found that he could not function with anyone but Safiye. It was then discovered by the valideh that Safiye had purchased charms and potions from one of the bazaar women to bind the sultan to her alone.”

Aidan was fascinated. “How did the valideh find out?”

“The most famous bazaar woman in all of Istanbul is an old lady by the name of Esther Kira. She is so old that she was the favorite of Sultan Murad’s great-grandmother, Cyra Hafise. She began coming to the harem of the sultan when she was just a girl, and she quickly became greatly in demand for the quality of her merchandise was the very best, and her prices more than fair. It is said that she did the legendary Cyra Hafise some great favor, and for that her family has been exempted forever from paying taxes. This allowed them, for they are Jews, to build a great banking house, and it is said that anywhere you may go in the civilized world today there is a Kira banker. There is even one in the Crimea,” he laughed. “Actually the old lady keeps coming to the harem with her wares simply to amuse herself for she does not need the monies, but I digress.

“The bazaar woman who sold Safiye Kadin her charms and potions was a Jewess, and she could not resist bragging amongst the other women of her great service to the bas kadin, a service she said that might very well win her family the same tax exemption as old Esther Kira had won for hers in her youth. Of course this kind of talk was not long in coming to Esther’s ears, and she informed the valideh, but at the same time she insisted to Nur-U-Banu that it was the bazaar woman who had initiated the sale of the charm and potions to a distraught Safiye, who she said she was certain would not have acted in such a fashion had not the temptation been placed in her path. That way the wily old woman saved the bas kadin her deserved punishment, and retained the friendship of both these powerful ladies for herself and her family.” He chuckled. “As a friend of both Safiye and Nur-U-Banu, I expect you will eventually meet the fabled Esther, but my jewel, I do not want to spend our wedding night telling you tales as a father tells his child,” said Javid Khan gently pinching her nipples. “I want to make love to you, my sweet wife, Marjallah. You have brought me much happiness in such a short time, beloved. I never expected to be happy again.”

Aidan turned her body so that she might look up into his face. “You have made me happy also, my lord, and I, too, did not think to be content again.” Reaching up she caressed his face, and then drawing his head to hers she kissed his mouth in a quick kiss, seeing in his beautiful sky-blue eyes a simple wish that she knew was in her power to grant him; a desire that he didn’t even know he revealed. It did not matter, she thought, that she lied to him for the lie was one of the white variety, a harmless thing that would bring him happiness. He could never really know what was in her heart for no man ever really knows the secret heart of a woman. “I love you, my lord Javid,” she said softly, and was rewarded by the joy that lit his whole face.

His arms instantly locked about her in a tight embrace, and he almost sobbed, “I love you, too, my jewel! I have from the first, and I feared that you could not love me so great was the love that you bore for your first husband. I thank Allah that he has given me you, my beloved wife, Marjallah!”

“Conn is lost to me,” she said honestly, “as are Zoe and Ayesha lost to you. We go on, however, and if we could not love again, my lord, then we should dishonor the memories of those we loved before.” I might even, in time, come to believe my own words, she silently decided.

He laid her upon the silken mattress that they shared, and loved her tenderly with both his hands, and his mouth, and his tongue. His delicate, yet sensuous touches sent ripples of sweet fire throughout her whole body; and when at last he believed her ready, he entered her whispering, “Let us make a son this night, my jewel. Let us make a son!”

With a soft cry she received him, and her nails raked wildly down his broad back, but at his words she trembled, which he took for passion, and her mind rebelled as she silently prayed,
Oh not yet, dear God! Not yet, for then shall my beloved Conn truly be lost to me! Not yet!

And Javid Khan filled her womb with his potent seed, but Aidan’s prayer was answered for she conceived not.

The autumn was warm and fair, and each day when the prince journeyed to the city to take part in the sultan’s day as was his duty, Aidan ventured into the gardens to instruct her gardeners. Slowly, and with total patience the ground was cleared of its great overgrowth until the outline of the original beds was quite clear. They found one large fountain and several smaller ones beneath the tangle, and with her husband’s permission Aidan sent to Istanbul for workmen to repair the waterworks, and replace the tiles that had been damaged by the neglect of so many years.

Knowing her background, and understanding her more as each day passed, Javid Khan gave his wife the unusual freedom to come and go as she pleased; and Aidan, understanding the cultural differences that separated them, realized the deep trust he had in her, and did not abuse that trust. Never did she leave the little palace without informing him beforehand of her destination, or whom she would be seeing. Her trips were usually to either the Yeni Serai to visit with the valideh and Safiye, or to the Great Bazaar to shop for rare plants for her new gardens.

One afternoon in early November Aidan arrived to visit Safiye, and ushered into the bas kadin’s apartments she saw that her friend already had a visitor. Seated with Safiye was a small, plump woman with black, black hair and bright black eyes. She was beautifully dressed in crimson brocade tunic dress, and wore magnificent heavy gold earrings and bracelets. Upon her plump fingers was only one ring, but it was a diamond of such incredible size that Aidan could not help but stare for a moment before her manners caught up with her.

“Marjallah! Come and meet Esther Kira,” said Safiye.

“Good afternoon, my lady,” said Aidan politely, and then in response to Safiye’s hand signal, she sat down with them.

“So,” said Esther Kira in a voice that belied her years, for she was now eighty-eight, “this is the lady of whom the valideh has spoken so highly. Your lovely hair reminds me of my friend, Cyra Hafise, she of blessed memory. She was a great beauty, my lady Cyra.”

“Which I most certainly am not,” laughed Aidan. “My father used to say that I was just barely pretty, and then only if I worked at it.”

The old woman cackled back her own laughter. “It is a good thing to know one’s own shortcomings as well as one’s strengths,” she answered. “You are, I can tell, an intelligent woman who understands such things, but then if you were not the prince should not have married you. You have given us all something to talk about this rather dull autumn, my lady Marjallah. Istanbul is a city that thrives on gossip. Is that not so, my lady bas kadin?”

“Most assuredly so,” said Safiye, and then she said to Aidan, “Have you been on one of your already famous shopping expeditions, dear Marjallah ? Ahh now, there is sweet grist for the mills of chatter. Prince Javid Khan actually allows this wife of his the freedom to come and go as she pleases, Esther Kira. Is that not scandalous?”

“I would say that the prince is an intuitive man,” remarked the old woman, and Aidan liked her in that moment.

“I cannot find anywhere in all of Istanbul,” Aidan complained, “tulip bulbs, and I do so want a spring garden for my lord Javid. My Portuguese have spent these last weeks clearing the ground of all the overgrowth and weeds, and the fountains have been repaired and are operable, the flowerbeds have been raked and prepared, but nowhere can we find bulbs to plant. The merchants in the Great Bazaar claim that you must obtain them in the late spring after the gardens have bloomed. I am so very disappointed.”

“Perhaps Esther can obtain the bulbs you need,” suggested Safiye, and she looked at the old woman.

Esther Kira smiled. “It is just possible,” she said nodding. “It is just possible that I can.”

“Oh, if you only could,” Aidan wished.