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    Captive of the Harem

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      asked. They spent many hours together, I believe. He was closer

      to Suleiman than anyone—except the Caliph.’

      ‘It is sad to lose such a friend,’ Eleanor replied and, despite

      herself, felt that she would have liked to offer comfort to the man

      who had lost his best friend, though she knew he would not have

      wanted such words from her. ‘But a man like Suleiman must

      have many others?’

      ‘He has many friends amongst the Janissaries,’ Karin replied.

      ‘But so far he has not replaced Kasim. I do not think he can

      bear to do so…though he has summoned an astrologer on two

      occasions.’

      ‘Ah, yes,’ Eleanor replied. ‘I saw the instruments such men

      use for reading the stars in his hal. They looked interesting.’

      Karin nodded, and her expression was thoughtful. ‘It is very

      Karin nodded, and her expression was thoughtful. ‘It is very

      rare for a woman to be appointed to the position of adviser,’ she

      said. ‘But it has been known. You might please our master in

      many ways if you do your work wel, Eleanor. You should not

      despair that he has sent for Fatima and not you this evening.’

      Eleanor stared at her. She was conscious of a very odd

      feeling; it was like a pain in her chest and she did not understand

      it, though she knew what had aroused it. Yet she could not be

      jealous because Suleiman had sent for his favourite! After al, she

      did not want him to send for her in that way… Even so, there

      was a feeling of disappointment that he should have summoned

      Fatima to his bed.

      ‘It is good that he has sent for her,’ Eleanor said when she

      could form the words. ‘She was afraid that I might take her

      place and it made her spiteful—now she wil be happy again.’

      ‘And you—you are not disappointed that you did not please

      him?’

      ‘No…’ Eleanor knew that she was not teling the whole truth.

      ‘I told him that I would never consent to be his concubine

      wilingly.’

      ‘You told the lord Suleiman that?’ Karin stared in

      astonishment. She could scarcely believe that Eleanor had been

      so bold or so foolish. ‘And he sent no word that you were to be

      punished? Instead, he grants your wish to have pen and paper…

      I do not understand this, Eleanor.’

      ‘Perhaps it as you say,’ Eleanor replied. ‘I am useful in other

      ways.’

      She did not tel Karin that Suleiman had promised to favour

      She did not tel Karin that Suleiman had promised to favour

      her above al others if she pleased him—or that she had defied

      him when he kissed her.

      ‘In that case I must leave you to begin your work,’ Karin

      said, clearly stil mystified. ‘You may send for fresh lamps if you

      need them, but do not work too long into the night—or you wil

      overtire yourself and lose your looks.’ Her gaze narrowed

      thoughtfuly. ‘You are very lovely, Eleanor. I cannot believe that

      you do not stir Suleiman Bakhar. I do not know what is in his

      mind concerning you—but I think he may yet surprise us al…’

      Suleiman watched as Fatima performed one of her dances for

      him. She was extremely graceful, and there was no other woman

      of his harem who was more skiled in the arts of pleasing a man

      —both with her dancing and in bed.

      He had enjoyed her performance many times, and been

      roused to make love to her after the dance, but tonight it left him

      unmoved. He could stil appreciate her skil, yet there was no

      burning in his loins, or any desire to lie with her.

      ‘Come,’ he invited as the music ended and she sank to a

      position of supplication before him, arms stretched out as if in

      entreaty. ‘Sit on that cushion next to me and talk to me.’

      Fatima obeyed, though she was puzzled by this odd request.

      Always before he had raised her up and taken her into his

      private room and made love to her. She had looked forward to it

      eagerly through al the ritual of the bath and preparation. It was

      her reason for living, for she was a passionate woman and

      her reason for living, for she was a passionate woman and

      relished the act of physical love. He had never asked her to talk

      to him before, and she did not know what to say.

      ‘What would my lord have of me?’ she asked. ‘Would you

      have me sing to you?’

      ‘No. I wish for conversation,’ Suleiman replied and frowned.

      ‘Tel me what you do with your days, Fatima.’

      ‘I wait for you to send for me, my lord. I bathe and perfume

      myself—and sometimes I dance so that I retain my skil for your

      pleasure.’

      ‘But what do you like to do yourself?’

      ‘I live to please you, my lord.’

      Suleiman stared at her. Was her life so empty? And what of

      the other women in his harem—those he had not sent for in

      months? Some that he had never asked for in al the time they

      had been here—what did they do with their time?

      ‘Have you no friends? Do you not laugh and talk—walk with

      them in the gardens or bathe together in the pools? Do they not

      gossip with you or tel stories?’

      ‘I could not say what the others do,’ Fatima replied with a

      look of disdain. ‘I seldom bother with them—they are jealous of

      me because you send only for me.’

      Suleiman saw the look of spiteful delight in her eyes and was

      disgusted. She was an empty vain woman—and he had created

      her. She was this way because he had taken his pleasures

      carelessly without thought for what he did, not loving her but

      using her to slake the physical urgings of his body.

      using her to slake the physical urgings of his body.

      He knew that he did not desire her, that he would probably

      never want her again. His first thought was that she should return

      to the harem at once, but he checked it before the words were

      spoken. If he sent her back so soon, the other women would

      know that she had not lain in his bed—and they would despise

      her for losing his favour. She did not deserve that, for she was as

      lovely and graceful as she had always been—the change was in

      him

      ‘So…you wait al day for me…’ He stood up and Fatima’s

      heart raced. Surely now he would take her to his bed and she

      would make him forget this strange mood that troubled him. ‘I

      do not want you to pleasure me this night, Fatima—but I shal

      not send you back to the harem. You may stay here in this room

      until the morning and return at your usual hour.’

      ‘But, my lord…’ Stil on her knees, Fatima caught at the hem

      of his tunic as he would have passed her. ‘What have I done to

      displease you?’

      ‘You have not displeased me,’ he replied coldly. ‘Your dance

      was excelent—but I do not desire you in my bed. You wil sleep

      here and leave in the morning as soon as it is light.’

      ‘Forgive me…’ Fatima threw herself to the floor at his feet,

      abasing herself before him. ‘Whatever I have done I wil make

      amends, my lord.’

      ‘You displease me by this display of temper
    ,’ Suleiman said,

      guilt making his voice sharper than need be. ‘If you persist, I

      shal send for the eunuch to take you back now.’

      He walked on past her, leaving Fatima stretched out on the

      He walked on past her, leaving Fatima stretched out on the

      tiled floor, her body shaking with the tears she could not hold

      back despite his threat to send her back at once. She longed to

      folow him, to plead with him again, but she dared not for he

      would surely send her back to the harem in disgrace. And then

      the other women would laugh at her. She had flaunted herself

      over them and some of them would not lose their chance to

      make her suffer now that she had lost their master’s favour.

      Suleiman felt both guilt and pity for her as he looked down on

      her misery. He had not truly understood how empty were the

      lives of the women in his harem until…until one of them had

      asked him how she was to pass her life. He had sent her work to

      do since it seemed that this was what she required, but it would

      be useless to offer such a boon to Fatima, for she would neither

      appreciate nor be able to do such intricate work. He doubted

      that she could write, let alone read Latin…it was a rare thing in a

      woman. Even his own mother had not been able to read Latin,

      but Eleanor could.

      He wondered what Eleanor was doing at that moment. He

      wished that he might send for her—but to do so would be to

      offer a grievous insult to the woman he had left sobbing on the

      floor of his outer chamber. He would not choose to be that cruel,

      even though it was only now that he had begun to realise his

      actions could be cruel…that he hurt those he did not send for by

      omission. It was a heavy burden, and one that must be given

      careful consideration.

      Tomorrow must suffice for his own pleasure. He would sit

      and read some of his manuscripts, though of late he had noticed

      and read some of his manuscripts, though of late he had noticed

      that it was something of a strain to decipher his own lettering.

      The scripts he had sent to Eleanor for transcribing were some he

      had written long ago and concerned matters of astrology that he

      wished to consult again, so that perhaps he might be able to

      interpret his own charts and not have to trust the words of the

      astrologer.

      He took the scripts to a stool by a table where a lamp was

      burning and began to read the fair hand inscribed for him by his

      old teacher, sighing as he did so. He missed Kasim so much…

      and there was no one else he could talk to in the same way, for

      his father was not interested in ancient teachings and mysteries.

      The Caliph was a man much concerned with the daily

      administration of justice in the Sultan’s capitol, and had no time

      for the kind of work that gave Suleiman so much pleasure.

      The mysteries of the stars, of medicine and ancient

      knowledge, some handed down from empires now lost to

      mankind, held a special fascination for Suleiman Bakhar. He had

      many books, which came from the printing works of Germany,

      France and Venice, which were easy enough for him to read—

      but it was the ancient manuscripts that he found difficult to

      decipher these days. He was forced to hold them at a distance

      and that was uncomfortable, and sometimes made his eyes ache

      if he worked too long into the night.

      For the moment he must content himself with the books that

      showed pictures of medical practice and were self-explanatory,

      depicting lumps and sores on various parts of the body. He had

      been visiting at the bedside of one of the Janissaries earlier; the

      unfortunate man had developed a lump on his side. And, after

      consulting with the physicians, Suleiman was trying to ascertain

      whether it would be best to cut the lump from the man’s body or

      treat it with powders to try and burn it off.

      The sobbing from the outer chamber had ceased at last.

      Suleiman forgot the woman as he read his medical books, his

      mind now fuly concentrated on a cure for his friend.

      Eleanor had spent many happy hours poring over the scripts

      sent to her and had begun her transcription into both English and

      Latin, copying a page of each at a time. She had slept afterwards

      and woke feeling so much happier than she had in an age. At

      least now she had some purpose to her life—and she could

      almost imagine herself back at home with her father.

      The memory of Sir Wiliam’s death lay heavy on her heart.

      She knew that she would never cease to grieve for him, and for

      her brother—who was as lost to her as her father. Yet perhaps if

      she asked Suleiman, he might be able to give her news of

      Richard… It would require some payment, of course.

      Eleanor knew that she had already been granted a

      considerable favour. Why had Suleiman done so much for her?

      She had thought him angry when he sent her back to the

      harem…and yet he had granted her request for some

      occupation. She was very grateful to him, and she was being

      very careful in her copying so that he would be pleased with

      what she had done.

      ‘Come into the garden,’ Anastasia said from the threshold of

      her sitting room. ‘It is a lovely day, Eleanor. Karin bid me tel

      you, you have worked enough for now. You must take a walk in

      the air.’

      ‘I am glad to do so,’ Eleanor said and rose with a smile. ‘I do

      not wish to study al the time. It is good to have friends and I like to talk with you and the others.’

      ‘Fatima is in a bad temper this morning,’ Anastasia said. ‘It is

      unusual for her to be so cross after spending the night with our

      master.’

      ‘It does not matter about her,’ Eleanor said linking arms with

      the other woman. ‘Tel me about the dancing lessons, Anastasia.

      I think I should like to learn. I can play a harp and the virginals—

      but I do not know how to play the instrument you were using the

      other night.’

      ‘It is a dombra, and comes from the province of

      Kazakhstan.’ Anastasia smiled at her. ‘It is very like a lute in

      some ways, but the music it makes is different. I could show you

      how to play it if you wish?’

      ‘Yes, I think that would be pleasant,’ Eleanor replied. ‘I am

      so glad that we are to be friends. I felt so alone the night I came

      to the harem—and no one spoke to me.’

      ‘That was because Fatima forbade it,’ Anastasia replied.

      ‘The three of us decided the next day that we would disobey her

      —especialy now that Abu is no longer in charge of the harem.

      He used to punish us for her if we did something that displeased

      He used to punish us for her if we did something that displeased

      her… He was cruel and it was his pleasure to whip us for some

      imagined slight of her.’

      ‘Why did you not tel Karin?’

      ‘Because she is not of the harem,’ Anastasia replied. ‘If we

      had told her, something might have happened while she was not

      here…women have disappeared without trace from the palace. I

      think Ab
    u sold them to slave merchants.’

      ‘But did no one notice they had gone?’

      ‘Who would care?’ Anastasia frowned. ‘The Caliph hardly

      ever sends for a woman these days, and it would only be Karin

      or one of his other wives who have given him children—none of

      the concubines are ever requested. Unless the Caliph sent for

      someone who had disappeared he would never know—and then

      he would probably be told she had sickened and died of some

      mysterious ailment. No one could prove otherwise, for those

      who knew would not be asked.’

      ‘That is terrible,’ Eleanor said. ‘Do you think Suleiman knows

      of this?’

      ‘No—for who would dare to tel him? Abu was in charge of

      the harem and the only woman Suleiman sends for is Fatima—

      and I believe she knew what was going on. She helped Abu and

      he saw that she was obeyed in the harem… It was a strange

      partnership, but of mutual benefit.’

      ‘Yes, I see,’ Eleanor said. ‘It is a happy thing for us that Abu

      has been sent to the stores.’

      ‘Yes…’ Anastasia nodded. ‘And yet I think…’ She shook

      her head. ‘No, I cannot be sure and it is safer not to notice. I

      her head. ‘No, I cannot be sure and it is safer not to notice. I

      shal say no more and nor should you.’

      Eleanor looked at her curiously but did not press her to

      continue. Karin had told her it was dangerous to speak too

      openly in the harem, and although some of the women had

      shown themselves wiling to be friendly with Eleanor, others

      remained aloof.

      As they entered the main hal, Eleanor saw Fatima seated on

      one of the divans. Several of the women were hovering about

      her, offering dishes of sweetmeats and fruits. It was clear that she was displeased about something and her eyes snapped with

      temper as she looked at Eleanor. However, before she could

      speak Karin came up to Eleanor.

      ‘Suleiman has sent for you,’ she said. ‘You are to bring your

      journal. He wishes to see what you have done so far.’

      ‘Yes, of course. I shal fetch the journal at once.’

      Eleanor left Anastasia with a smile of regret and a promise

      that they would talk later. She colected the journal from her

      apartments, then hurried after Karin.

      Just before they reached the first of Suleiman’s hals, Karin

      stopped and turned to her with a worried expression.

      ‘I have heard strange whispers,’ she said. ‘One of the women

     


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