there is no escape?” she asked.
“None,” answered Firousi, “and why would you want to escape? Where would you go? You couldn’t go home. No one would ever believe you had escaped still innocent from the sultan of Turkey. People would point at you in the streets, and no good father would permit his son to wed with you. You would grow old, never knowing love, pensioned off, perhaps, to help raise your brother’s children. Neither a servant nor a respectable member of the family. At least as members of Sultan Bajazet’s household we will know luxury, perhaps love, and even children of our own. Do you still want to return?”
Janet shook her head. “No,” she said, “you are right There is no turning back for any of us. I have heard that the women of the sultan’s harem intrigue against one another to keep his favor. We three have all been torn from our families, we have known misfortune. In union there is strength. If we must be slaves, let us be powerful ones. Let us agree that, no matter what happens, each of us will support the other two. In this way we may someday rule not only the harem but the sultan as well.”
Zuleika and Firousi smiled at Janet
“The child in you flees with the dawn, Cyra,” said Firousi.
“Yes,” she answered. “Gone are the Princess Plum Jade of Cathay, Marya Rostov of the Caucasus, and Lady Janet Leslie of Scotland. They were little girls. In their places stand three women, members of Sultan Bajazet’s household—Zuleika, Firousi, and Cyra. Will you agree to my pact?”
“Yes,” said Firousi, placing her hand on Janet’s.
“And I, too,” answered Zuleika, putting her hand on theirs.
Dawn began to break over the island of Crete. The three girls, comforted by each other’s presence, changed into night garments and lay down to sleep.
Janet taking one last look at Candia’s harbor, sighed at the sight of the ship that was now making its way out to the open sea. At its mast flew the golden falcon of San Lorenzo. Slowly she turned to her couch and lay down.
Across the room a small panel slipped noiselessly into place on the wall, and behind that wall Hadji Bey spoke quietly to himself. “I have chosen well. May Allah be blessed. Now the empire will be safe.”
8
T HE VOYAGE FROM C RETE to Constantinople was a pleasant one. Cyra, Firousi, and Zuleika were permitted to lounge under an awning that was set up for them on the broad deck. Hadji Bey had insisted they be heavily veiled and had forbidden them to wander about lest the sight of them arouse the galley slaves, many of whom were European captives.
The ship traveled swiftly through the pleasant waters and charming islands of the Aegean, and Hadji Bey pointed out several sites of historical interest that Cyra found much more engrossing than the agricultural islands shown her by Captain Venutti. There were Naxos, where Theseus had left Ariadne; Chios, reputed to be Homer’s birthplace; and Lesbos, home of the poetess Sappho, which had been the center of civilization in the seventh century before Christ
They slipped through the Dardanelles, which had in ancient times been called the Hellespont Forty miles long and one to four miles wide, the strait was lined with the watchtowers of the Ottoman army and was essential to the defense of Constantinople. The towers were used as advance wanting posts should anyone attempt to attack the capital by sea. Shortly, the Dardanelles gave way to the Sea of Marmara. Their journey was almost over.
The night before they reached their destination, Hadji Bey called them to his vast cabin in the stern of the ship. Entering, they noticed he had placed his fierce mute guards at the door. He motioned the girls to pillows set about a round table, and after allowing a slave to place refreshments on it and depart, he sat down beside his charges.
“Now, my lovely children, I have a matter of vast importance to discuss with you. As you already know, I am the agha kislar, the head of Sultan
“None,” answered Firousi, “and why would you want to escape? Where would you go? You couldn’t go home. No one would ever believe you had escaped still innocent from the sultan of Turkey. People would point at you in the streets, and no good father would permit his son to wed with you. You would grow old, never knowing love, pensioned off, perhaps, to help raise your brother’s children. Neither a servant nor a respectable member of the family. At least as members of Sultan Bajazet’s household we will know luxury, perhaps love, and even children of our own. Do you still want to return?”
Janet shook her head. “No,” she said, “you are right There is no turning back for any of us. I have heard that the women of the sultan’s harem intrigue against one another to keep his favor. We three have all been torn from our families, we have known misfortune. In union there is strength. If we must be slaves, let us be powerful ones. Let us agree that, no matter what happens, each of us will support the other two. In this way we may someday rule not only the harem but the sultan as well.”
Zuleika and Firousi smiled at Janet
“The child in you flees with the dawn, Cyra,” said Firousi.
“Yes,” she answered. “Gone are the Princess Plum Jade of Cathay, Marya Rostov of the Caucasus, and Lady Janet Leslie of Scotland. They were little girls. In their places stand three women, members of Sultan Bajazet’s household—Zuleika, Firousi, and Cyra. Will you agree to my pact?”
“Yes,” said Firousi, placing her hand on Janet’s.
“And I, too,” answered Zuleika, putting her hand on theirs.
Dawn began to break over the island of Crete. The three girls, comforted by each other’s presence, changed into night garments and lay down to sleep.
Janet taking one last look at Candia’s harbor, sighed at the sight of the ship that was now making its way out to the open sea. At its mast flew the golden falcon of San Lorenzo. Slowly she turned to her couch and lay down.
Across the room a small panel slipped noiselessly into place on the wall, and behind that wall Hadji Bey spoke quietly to himself. “I have chosen well. May Allah be blessed. Now the empire will be safe.”
8
T HE VOYAGE FROM C RETE to Constantinople was a pleasant one. Cyra, Firousi, and Zuleika were permitted to lounge under an awning that was set up for them on the broad deck. Hadji Bey had insisted they be heavily veiled and had forbidden them to wander about lest the sight of them arouse the galley slaves, many of whom were European captives.
The ship traveled swiftly through the pleasant waters and charming islands of the Aegean, and Hadji Bey pointed out several sites of historical interest that Cyra found much more engrossing than the agricultural islands shown her by Captain Venutti. There were Naxos, where Theseus had left Ariadne; Chios, reputed to be Homer’s birthplace; and Lesbos, home of the poetess Sappho, which had been the center of civilization in the seventh century before Christ
They slipped through the Dardanelles, which had in ancient times been called the Hellespont Forty miles long and one to four miles wide, the strait was lined with the watchtowers of the Ottoman army and was essential to the defense of Constantinople. The towers were used as advance wanting posts should anyone attempt to attack the capital by sea. Shortly, the Dardanelles gave way to the Sea of Marmara. Their journey was almost over.
The night before they reached their destination, Hadji Bey called them to his vast cabin in the stern of the ship. Entering, they noticed he had placed his fierce mute guards at the door. He motioned the girls to pillows set about a round table, and after allowing a slave to place refreshments on it and depart, he sat down beside his charges.
“Now, my lovely children, I have a matter of vast importance to discuss with you. As you already know, I am the agha kislar, the head of Sultan
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