The good humor lasted for days; we made excellent time and it rubbed off on the whole party, including the maids, who were remarkably free from quarrels and grumblings about having to be kept cooped up so long.
Whatever happens, I told myself, I shall never regret having done this for her.
Such good moods, no more than spells of good weather, cannot be expected to last forever. But this one seemed to—over two weeks—and it was only stopped by something very physical. My mistress suddenly became violently ill. We stopped for a few days but she showed no signs of recovery, even with the best attendance. Finally she insisted that we try to continue, in spite of the fact that we had to stop every hour or so for her to spill her insides over the Turkish landscape. This even when there was nothing in her stomach but sour fluid to spill.
At first I thought it must be bad water, but none of the rest of us got it, and spring, when the water sources are cool and swollen with melting snow, is hardly the season for dysentery. I did not know what to think, only began to fear what the master might learn or guess. Instead of the bright, blooming rose promised him from the gardens of Konya, what I brought him was faded and brittle instead, as if it had spent the entire journey crushed in the bottom of a saddlebag.
At last we arrived in Constantinople, four days late instead of early as our progress at first had led me to hope. As soon as I saw my lady comfortable in her old haremlik again, I prepared to go to the selamlik to carry to the master the news of our safe arrival, but also to warn him that his wife was in no condition to receive him.
“No, no, Abdullah. You must not tell him that,” Esmikhan said. “You must tell him I will see him as soon as it is convenient for him.”
“But my lady. You are so weak you can hardly walk.”
“Still, I must. I must appear as healthy and as desirable as possible.”
She made an attempt here to sit up and look in at least middling health. My face, I suppose, betrayed severe doubt, for she said, “Oh, Abdullah! Do you know so little about the woman you are meant to guard, that you cannot tell when she is pregnant?”
“My lady,” I said in disbelief and then came up with a reason not to believe. “You were never this sick before.”
“That is because this time it will live. I know it, Abdullah. Allah has answered my prayers.”
“And sent you your wish by an illegal love.”
“Yes,” she said, without a note of regret.
“Then you must meet with the master. By Allah, even tonight, and he may grow suspicious.”
“Yes,” Esmikhan said, but there was still no fear or doubt. It was all very dutifully matter-of-fact.
XL
As soon as we could do it without arousing suspicion, and when her sickness had eased off a bit, I went with my lady to break the good news to the others in the imperial harem. It was to be an afternoon spent pleasantly with cool drinks and gossip. The old Quince would perform all her magics by which she made babies strong and well-favored and by which she could tell the sex and the fortune. In return, Esmikhan would tell them every detail of the pilgrimage. Some favored few might even be taken by the elbow and honored, in a corner apart, with the full story of the answer to her prayers.
Esmikhan was at once sorry not to see Safiye among the women that greeted her with hugs and kisses on both cheeks. “And where is my Safiye’s sweet little baby? Why, he must be a big boy by now—over two years old. How I wish to see them both!”
“Ooh, haven’t you heard?” One of the girls could not blush and keep quiet like the rest. “Prince Murad has arrived in the city this morning, totally against his father’s wishes.”
Now there was no use for discretion and all the others joined in: “He has abandoned his sandjak.”
“Rode day and night.”
“Safiye refused all his entreaties to join him in Magnesia.”
“Even after the child had grown.”
“They say,” giggled a maid, “the prince is quite out of his mind with desire.”
“That girl,” Nur Banu muttered like the plunge of an icicle from the eaves. I sensed a new cool hatred there, more than just a mild jealousy that her son had not called for her to join him in the mabein that afternoon as well.
At this point one of the lesser officials of the palace eunuchs drew me aside and made a request. It seemed that the veal—that special food of eunuchs which is supposed to keep us as tender as young cattle and not fire us like the red, full-grown meat men eat—had been tainted last night. Now nearly all the staff was too sick to walk, including the officers down to this man. Even he was the color of limestone with a greenish cast. My lady would be safe here in the heart of the harem, he said, but would I be so good as to come and lend a hand in the halls near the mabein? It would not be so bad if they were deserted as they had been for months, but since the young prince Murad had so suddenly arrived, there was much activity that had to be monitored.
“If you could only stand in a few hours until reinforcements can be brought from the old palace...”
“Of course, Abdullah, you should go,” my lady said. “Our talk cannot be very interesting for you.”
I was quickly outfitted with the white hat and green fur-trimmed cloak particular to the palace harem, and given a post, in the heart of the mabein. At either end of the hall, I could see one of my
