Chapter 57

Chapter 57

S HE struggled up through the blackness, fighting the smothered feeling that overwhelmed her, clawing at the hard hand clamped over her mouth. Full consciousness returned as the voice in her ear became wonderfully familiar.

"Shhh, love! Tis me. 'Tis Francis!" Her eyes flew open and then widened at the sight of the bearded man bending over her. The hand was taken away. Catching her breath, she laughingly sobbed, "Damn me, Bothwell, ye look like the sultan himself!" Then the tears spilled out of her and she flung herself at him, weeping soundlessly.

Holding her closely, he smoothed the head beneath his hand and said in a gentle, teasing voice, "Can I not go off to earn us a living, madame, without yer getting captured by pirates? Ye've led me a fine chase to be sure!" Her shoulders shook all the harder. "Sweetheart, ‘tis all right," he soothed. "I am here to take ye home. Dinna weep, lass. Ye've been so brave. Esther Kira has told me how brave ye've been."

She squirmed out of his grasp and turned a stricken face up to him. "Do ye love me, Bothwell?"

For a moment he looked stunned, and then he mused, "Now, let me think a bit. I've crossed three seas and come through two straits. I must now turn about and go back the same way, dragging two women wi me. It will be a bloody miracle if we get to Italy alive! Perhaps I did it for the adventure of it? Christ, madame, what do ye think?"

"I am used, Bothwell. I am terribly used. I hae been the vizier's favorite. Do ye still want me back?"

He began to laugh, then became serious again. "My ever honest Cat. Do ye think I dinna know what yer life has been? Angela di LiCosa made it very plain what kind of a man her brother was. If all I wanted was a body in my bed, Cat, I might—though not easily, I'll admit—have substituted another woman for ye." He wound her tawny hair about his hand and pulled her to him. His mouth gently brushed hers, and his warm sapphire-blue eyes smiled down at her. "But then, my dearest love, who would have sworn at me in Gaelic, or helped me to raise our bairns, or talked wi me of Scotland on the long winter nights in the years to come?"

She caught her lip in her teeth, and her eyelids closed in a futile attempt to hold back the hot tears that poured again down her cheeks.

"Aye, Cat, I love ye," he said. "Now let us stop this foolishness. In less than two hours the sun will be rising. ‘Tis best if we're quickly gone from here."

The guards?" she asked.

"Conall and I dispatched them."

"There were six. Did ye kill them all?"

"Aye."

"The bodies?" "Where they died."

"No! The vultures will get them, and the birds will be seen by the peasants. Someone is bound to get curious and investigate. The supplies for my week's stay came yesterday. No one will come here for at least a week unless something is amiss. Weigh the bodies with stones and sink them into the sea. Then there will be no carrion for the birds, and therefore no curiosity."

He shook his head admiringly. "Madame, ye constantly surprise me," he said, and handed her a bundle from the floor. "Yer traveling clothes. Get dressed while I get Conall and attend to the other business. Susan is waiting in the boat. Go down to the landing when yer ready, and dinna be fearful of the young man there. 'Tis Esther's great-grandson, Asher. He goes with us partway."

" ‘Tis nae the young men who frighten me, Bothwell."

Standing up, he grinned rakishly at her. "Yer a fetching sight, madame, with yer pretty tits pointing at me like that. Would that we had some time. This bed looks comfortable."

"Never here," she answered him vehemently. "I've spent too many unhappy hours here! I'd sooner be tumbled under a hedgerow!"

"Once we are safely away from here, madame, I will see if I can accommodate ye," he chuckled, and ducked a well-aimed pillow. Laughing, he ran from the kiosk.

Cat sprang from the bed. I am alive again, she thought triumphantly. Once more I have survived!

And she laughed aloud as she undid the bundle he had given her. She found women's underclothes, but the dark-blue pantaloons, white shirt, vest, sash, boots, and turban of a young man. Dressing quickly, she pinned her hair tightly and covered it with a bandanna before placing the little turban on her head. Pulling on the boots, she stood up and wrapped the sash about her waist Catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror, she unwrapped the sash, removed her shirt, and bound her full breasts with a linen cloth. Then she dressed again, adding the embroidered vest over her shirt. Another look in the mirror brought a smile to her face. No one looking at the young man would suspect him of being the vizier's beautiful second wife!

She looked about the room a final time, but there was nothing she wanted to take with her. From her conversations with Esther Kira, Cat knew that whatever she needed for the long journey would be provided by the Kira family. She would take none of the jewelry given her by the vizier. On her right hand she wore the heart-shaped ruby that had been given her by Patrick Leslie, and the turquoise ring Esther Kira had given her to hold potions. On her left hand was the great emerald wedding band Francis had given her. She needed nothing else. She didn't even turn back for a last look as she went through the kiosk door.

She walked swiftly through the lovely gardens. It gave her a savage pleasure to think that the man who had used her body as he might have used a dumb animal would no longer enjoy his beautiful island. That would be her small revenge on Cicalazade Pasha. He would always associate the island with her, and he would quickly hate his pleasure palace with its hundred memories.

Suddenly she stumbled over a body in the center of the neat gravel path. It was Osman. She felt no regret. Stepping over it, she continued on her way, carefully descending to the quay where the boat waited.

Exactly one week later the vizier's caique arrived to take his wife back to the palace. There was no one waiting on the quay, and after several minutes the oarmaster climbed the stone steps to the island's top. He found both the gardens and the kiosk empty. He called out for Osman, but his voice died in the clear morning air. It was frighteningly obvious that the island was deserted. Running back down the steps to the caique, the oarmaster shouted, "Back to the palace!"

The caique made a tight turn and glided back down the Bosporus the way it had come. The oarmaster did not even wait for his boat to dock, but leaped to the landing and ran at top speed to find Hammid.

Finding him with the lady Lateefa Sultan, the oarmaster flung himself to his knees and cried, "Disaster, Hammid! There is no one living or dead on the Island of a Thousand Flowers. It is deserted. I searched myself."

Lateefa Sultan watched as Hammid turned ashen. Momentarily her loyalties were torn between the eunuch who had been with her almost her entire life and the beautiful woman who was her cousin. She was genuinely sorry about Hammid's position, but she was relieved that Incili was gone. The immediate problem was Hammid. Cica Pasha was going to hold him responsible for Incili's loss, and his anger would be fierce.

"I will go to the island myself," said the eunuch. "You must be mistaken. There has to be someone there!"

"There is no one, I tell you," repeated the oarmaster. "I even called out. The island is deserted."

"Change the rowers," commanded the eunuch. "I am going."

Several hours later he returned and sought Lateefa Sultan. "The island is indeed empty. There are no signs of violence. No blood. No bodies. Nothing. It is as if they never existed. What am I to tell the master, my princess? He adores Incili. She was to bear his child. What can I say to him? He will kill me." This last was said with a sad finality, and Lateefa felt so sorry for the eunuch that she was almost tempted to tell him the truth—almost, but not quite.

"Tell him the truth, Hammid. You obeyed his orders. You sent Osman and four others to the island as my lord Cica instructed. You sent supplies for seven days, and at the end of that time you sent the caique. There has been no report of trouble. Why should you suspect that anything was amiss? Is it your fault the island was deserted?"

"I must go back to the island tomorrow," said Hammid grimly. "There has to be something that will tell me what happened! I will find it!"

"Do what you think is best," answered Lateefa Sultan.

The following day Hammid returned to the Island of a Thousand Flowers. Knowing he would spend a restless night otherwise, he had gulped a strong sedative so he might sleep and be clearheaded for his task.

Slowly he ascended to the garden, eyes on the ground, carefully studying the gravel paths. There had been no rain to wash away any evidence such as blood for seven days. The Starlight Kiosk was silent. He opened the doors and stood for a moment observing the room. The huge bed was rumpled and unmade, the faint imprint of her head still on the pillow. He walked closer and saw that her sleeping garment lay where she had thrown it. Nothing else in the room was out of place. Her clothes and jewels were neatly stored in her chest. Nothing was missing.

There were no signs of force. Eight people were missing, and he had absolutely no idea where they were or how they had gone. But he was going to do his best to find out. It was all well and good for Lateefa to say that he must tell the truth to the vizier, but what truth? My lord vizier, your second wife has mysteriously disappeared and we know not how. Cicalazade Pasha was not going to accept that.

Outside again in the garden, he gazed out over the Bosporus. The sunlight dappled the blue waters, and then, suddenly, he saw it. Six dark patches were contrasted against the aquamarine of the sea. Hurrying as quickly as his bulk would allow, he returned to the quay and spoke in low tones with the oarmaster. The caique was rowed out a bit into the stream and one of the rowers, stripped of his clothes, dove deep into the Bosporus. He surfaced moments later and was pulled aboard.

"What is down there?" demanded Hammid.

The rower shivered. "Bodies, lord. Six bodies, all with their throats cut."

Hammid nodded. "Return to the palace," he said, sinking wearily to the cushions. Now he knew, or thought he knew, what had happened to Incili. The eunuchs had been taken by surprise and murdered. Incili had been carried off. But, remembering the neatness of the kiosk, he revised his theory.

Incili had escaped. But who had helped her? She was in a strange land, cloistered from the world, yet she had managed to find aid and escape. As he searched his mind he kept returning to one constant: Esther Kira. The venerable grande dame of the House of Kira was the only person from outside the palace who had known Incili. Yet why would the old woman risk her family to aid a captive?

He commanded the oarmaster to row him to the Yeni Serai. There he spoke with his friend and mentor the Aga Kislar. The aga agreed that the situation was a delicate one, but he disliked the friendship between his mistress, the Sultan Valide Safiye, and Esther Kira. The old woman was a virtual institution with the valides, having been an intimate to four of them. She seemed indestructible, but if she was involved in this scandal then this was his chance to be rid of her.

The aga gained the sultan's ear, telling him only what he felt he should know. "Cicalazade Pasha's second wife appears to have been stolen from the vizier's island," the aga said. "We believe that we know some of the people involved, but we need your permission to proceed further. Will you sign this order?"

Recalling the conversation with his vizier of just two weeks ago, Mohammed III gave the aga his permission, and affixed his nigra seal to the order giving Hammid and the aga carte blanche to pursue their investigations. Soon a troop of janizaries was dispatched to the Kira house in the Jewish ghetto. The two black eunuchs followed them in litters.

Eli Kira greeted the two men and led them into a salon, where they were served coffee, honey, and almond-paste cakes, and sticky red and green candies. The banker knew there was something wrong when these two men came calling with a troop of the sultan's elite.

He waited a discreet time, indulging in small talk. Then, looking to the aga, he asked, "Well, my lord aga, why do you come to my home so heavily guarded? Is something amiss? Is there some unrest within the city that I have not heard about?"

"The wife of Cicalazade Pasha was stolen off his island retreat, Eli Kira. What do you know of it?"

The banker's face remained impassive. Not a muscle twitched, nor did any expression ruffle his features. There is no way they can know anything, Eli Kira silently reminded himself. His dark eyes now widened in surprise. "Lateefa Sultan stolen?" he exclaimed, hoping his look was incredulous enough.

A faint smile touched the aga's lips. Hammid's suspicions were correct. The Kiras knew something. "Not Lateefa Sultan," he said patiently, "but the vizier's new second wife, the lady Incili."

"Why should I know anything of this?" asked the banker haughtily. "I did not even know the lady."

"Perhaps you do not," conceded the aga, "but I will wager your grandmother does. The lady Incili was a stranger to this land. The only person from the outside she ever had contact with was Esther Kira, and the lady needed outside aid to escape."

"I thought you said she was stolen," said Eli Kira. "Is it not possible that she bribed the eunuchs to aid her? Why do you assume that because my grandmother casually knew this woman she has masterminded a plot? Where is your proof? You are insulting, my lord aga! I shall personally complain to the sultan about your actions!"

Slowly the aga drew from the sleeve of his robe a rolled parchment, which he handed to the banker. "If you will but take the time to glance at this, you will find that it is an order from the sultan giving me permission to take whatever action is necessary in this investigation. The sultan does not want his friend and valuable servant, Cicalazade Pasha, to be unhappy. And believe me, Eli Kira, the vizier will be very unhappy when he finds his favorite wife gone."

Eli Kira looked steadily and directly at the Aga Kislar, and then he turned his gaze on the vizier's grand eunuch. "I know nothing of this affair," he said firmly, "and if you have no tangible proof other than your outrageous suspicions, I must ask you to leave my house."

"No, Eli Kira. I intend questioning other members of your family. At this very moment, on my orders, my janizaries are entering your women's quarters."

"How dare you!" shouted the banker, his face going purple with outrage and anger. And he ran from the room towards the other end of the house, followed at a surprisingly swift pace by the two eunuchs.

They could already hear the shrieks of surprise and terror coming from the Kira harem, and the scene that greeted them was quite satisfying to the aga. He had wanted to instill just this type of fear in the Kira women. Now, as his reptilian gaze swept the room, he knew what tack to take.

Maryam Kira was white-faced and obviously very much frightened. She stood protectively clutching her two younger daughters, Rebecca and Sarah. Her eldest daughter, Debra, stood next to her mother, equally pale. Old Esther Kira was seated in a large chair looking frail but as fierce as a hawk. The room was full of brawny young janizaries, and several of the servant girls had obviously been molested.

Angry, red-faced, and fast becoming frightened, Eli Kira blustered at the aga. "This is the final offense, Ali Ziya! I shall send a messenger immediately to the sultan! You accuse us of some plot, but you offer no proof! You invade the privacy of my home with your soldiers, molest my servants, frighten my women! Show me some proof or get out!"

"Be silent! All of you!" All eyes turned to the old woman in the chair. "What is the problem, Ali Ziya? The Sultan Valide Safiye will not be pleased if I tell her of this unpleasantness."

The Aga Kislar looked to the old woman. Here was the real power behind the Kiras, this tiny, apparently delicate old woman with her all-knowing black-currant eyes. She stared unblinkingly at him, and he shivered. He smiled at her. "What have you done with Cicalazade Pasha's wife, Incili, Esther Kira?"

"What has happened to her, Ali Ziya?"

"I do not know, but I think you do."

"Nonsense! I know not of what you speak."

The aga smiled again, and decided to play his bluff. "Is this all of your family, Eli Kira?" he asked.

"No. There are my sons."

"Fetch them," came the command.

The banker nodded curtly to a servant girl, and several minutes later she returned with four of the boys.

"Is this all?"

"There is Asher, and our cousin John," said Debra innocently.

The aga pounced. "Where is your son, Asher, and who is this cousin?"

"They have gone off on business for the bank, and will not return for some time."

"Where? And who's this John Kira?"

"I sent them to Damascus, and our cousin comes from northern Europe."

"From Cousin Benjamin in Scotland," spoke Debra again.

Eli Kira shot his daughter a fierce look. "Be silent, Debra. You are not to speak unless spoken to. Your manners are too forward for a maiden."

"Ali Ziya!" All eyes turned to Hammid. "Ali Ziya!" The high voice was excited. "The woman Incili came from Scotland! I remember her telling me that when we first received her."

The aga's eyes narrowed. Here was his connection. He swung about and looked at Eli Kira and his sons. "Those two!" He pointed at the two youngest Kira boys. "What are their ages?"

"Thirteen and sixteen," came the reply. "A good age," came the reply, and then the next words fell like hammer blows. "I will honor your house, Eli Kira. I will accept these two fine young men into the corps of janizaries."

"No!" shrieked Maryam Kira. The banker's voice was firm, but his heart was beating very fast. "You cannot do that, Ali Ziya. I pay the head tax. My sons are exempt."

"This is an honor I do you, Eli Kira. Your sons enter an elite military unit dedicated to the sultan himself. You cannot refuse my generosity without offending my master. And … I will do your loyal family even further honor." His eyes swung over to where young Debra stood. "I am taking your eldest daughter for my master's harem. Never have I seen such beautiful eyes. Their violet color is quite unique. I am sure that, with the proper training, she will enchant him."

"No!" Eli Kira was shouting now. "The girl is betrothed! She is to be wed in two days!"

"You are wrong, my friend," the aga smiled. "In three nights I will present her to the sultan, and she will enter his bed as his new plaything. Perhaps she will captivate him. If not, she will live out her life in the Palace of Forgotten Women."

Maryam Kira flung herself at the aga's feet. "What is it you seek?" she begged. "I will help you if I can. But do not take my children, I pray you!"

"Maryam!" Eli pulled his groveling wife up.

"Eli! Eli!" She turned a frightened, tear-ravaged face to him. "What have you done? What is so important that you would sacrifice David and Lev? What is so important that you would condemn Debra to a life of loneliness and shame? If you know anything, tell him! In Yahweh's name tell him, I beg you!"

Eli Kira looked desperately towards his grandmother. Years of training now conflicted violently with his paternal feelings. He simply did not know what to do.

Esther Kira sighed. "Clear the room of all but Ali Ziya, Hammid, and my grandson, who ought to be told what this terror is all about. Do not touch any of my great-grandchildren, or you will learn nothing!"

"Take your men and wait in the courtyard. Touch no one and nothing," the aga commanded.

Slowly the room cleared until only the old woman, Eli Kira, and the two eunuchs remained. "Sit! Sit!" commanded Esther Kira. "This is a complicated story." And she settled herself comfortably. They looked expectantly at her. "Do any of you know when I was born?" she asked, and then cackled. "I was born on April first in the Christian year 1490. I am one hundred and nine years old! Now, of what I am about to tell you, my poor bemused grandson knows nothing. Since, however, my"—she stressed the word—"actions have brought difficulties to him, I think he should hear this."

Eli Kira kept his face impassive. There was absolutely nothing that he did not know of his family's business, but he understood what his grandmother was doing. By removing the blame from him, she was trying to save the family. It was a prime example of the first lesson she had ever taught him—survival at any cost. He felt a sudden burst of tenderness and affection for the lady who had built his family's fortune. He wished he might take her in his arms and hug her. Instead he sat quietly, a slightly expectant look on his face.

Good, thought Esther Kira, he understood my tactic. Then she continued. "Your suspicions are correct, Ali Ziya. I did help the woman you call Incili to return to her own people. So would you have, had you known who she was."

"She was a European noblewoman," came Hammid's voice.

"She was a descendant of Cyra Hafise," came back the reply.

"How can that be, old woman?" demanded Ali Ziya. "Cyra Hafise left only her son, Sultan Suleiman, and a daughter who was wed to Ibrahim Pasha. Of the imperial grandchildren, the princes Mustafa and Bajazet were murdered. Prince Janhagir died, Prince Selim became Sultan Selim II, and Princess Mihrmah was wed to Rustem Pasha. The children of Ibrahim Pasha and Princess Nilufer never left this land. Your vast age has finally addled your wits, Esther Kira."

"You are a third my age, Ali Ziya, and my wits are still sharper than yours," came the quick reply. "I was for many years a close friend and confidant of Cyra Hafise. I knew all about her, and her family. She had a brother, the Earl of Glenkirk. Incili is descended from him, and so was her first husband—also an Earl of Glenkirk. Her oldest son is the current earl. Because of the kind intervention of Cyra Hafise, the Kira family has managed the great fortune of the Leslies of Glenkirk for many years.

"I doubt that Incili ever heard of Cyra Hafise, but I almost fainted the first time I saw her. She is the mirror image of my long-dead friend, as Lateefa Sultan is of her ancestress, Firousi Kadin. To see them standing together took me back eighty-five years, and I thought for a moment that I had died and my two friends were coming to greet me."

She paused for a moment to gauge the effect this tale was having on her audience. In her grandson's eyes she caught a hint of admiration. The two eunuchs sat spellbound, and she chuckled within herself. Eunuchs were such children. She continued.

"After I had spoken awhile with the lady Incili and drawn her out a bit, I knew for certain who she was. With the aid of Lateefa Sultan, I attempted to get her to accept this as her life. But you yourself know, Hammid, how restless she was. Then her second husband and his servant arrived to rescue her. I introduced them into the house as John Kira, a cousin, and his servant. I secretly instructed him in the way of Jewish life so that during the time he was here no one would suspect his real identity and mission.

"I had no choice but to help him. He is a favorite cousin of the Scots king, who is the old English queen's heir. The Scots king is very fond of his cousin, and is bound to complain to the English queen, who will write to her friend the Sultan Valide Safiye, who will speak to her son, the sultan.

"The whole thing would have become a public scandal. The sultan's best friend and vizier, holding against her will in carnal bondage the cousin of Scotland's king? You know how these Christians are about sexual morals. How do you think the sultan would have felt caught in such a tangle?

"The woman, Incili, should never have been sent to Cicalazade Pasha. It was a vicious trick on the part of the vizier's sister, who is a jealous and cruel woman of bad repute." She turned accusingly to the grand eunuch. "You knew that, Hammid. Incili told you who she was, and begged you to have her ransomed. She could have made you a rich man. Instead, you used her to sate the never-satisfied appetite of your master in the hopes of furthering your own ambitions. Do you realize the embarrassment you could have caused the sultan and his government?"

Neatly she had shifted the blame from her own frail shoulders onto his fat ones. Eli Kira was open-mouthed in admiration. Ali Ziya was thoughtful.

"Incili is long gone," said Esther Kira. "Once again I have loyally served the House of Osman. When Cicalazade Pasha returns from his campaign, tell him that the lady Incili miscarried and died. She was not, by the way, really with child. It was a ruse she used to remain on the island so that her husband might rescue her. The eunuchs are dead and cannot talk. Your rowers can be sold off and replaced, and the oarmaster disposed of some way. No one else knows that Incili is gone. They will believe whatever you tell them."

"The sultan knows," said Ali Ziya.

"Tell him that the woman died, and that the eunuchs lied and hid themselves for fear of being blamed. Then tell him that everyone involved has been punished. It is not important to him, and he will forget."

Ali Ziya nodded. "You are right, Esther Kira. You know the imperial Ottoman well."

"I should," replied the old lady. "I have been dealing with them successfully for almost a hundred years."

The eunuchs stood up, as did Eli Kira. "I apologize, Eli Kira, for this invasion of your home. It did appear as if a crime had been committed in which your family was involved. I hope you will not find it necessary to complain to the sultan."

"No," said the banker quickly. "I understand it was just a terrible misunderstanding. You simply did your duty."

The Aga Kislar looked at Esther Kira. "You are a remarkable old woman," he said dryly. Turning, he left the room, followed by Hammid and Eli Kira.

Alone in the main courtyard of the house, the aga turned to Hammid. "Do as she suggested. If there is ever any question, I will back you up."

"Do you believe her, Ali?"

"Yes—and no," came the reply. The aga climbed into his litter, giving the signal for his departure. Returning to the Yeni Serai, Ali Ziya decided one thing. Esther Kira's influence with the imperial family must be discredited, and without a doubt she must die. Even in her old age she was far too astute, and very dangerous. Then too, she was a living link with a time when the Ottoman sultans were strong men who ruled alone, without the advice of women or eunuchs. Ali Ziya did not want to see that time return.